Page 43 of Last Slice of Pie

As we walk into his room, he spins so he’s now facing me. Dropping my hand, he reaches up and tucks a few pieces of hair behind my ears then tilts my chin up with one finger.

“So beautiful,” he mumbles as that finger drags down my neck, down the middle of my chest.

I reach out to touch him, but he takes a step back and then walks around me.

From behind, his arms wrap around as he pulls me close, and his lips brush against my neck. Instantly, I lean into him, and my head falls to the side.

“Do you know how many nights I spent lying behind you and staring at this spot right here?” His teeth graze my skin, and I shiver as his lips brush back and forth across my neck. “Do you know how many nights I wanted more than anything to wrap my arms around you and slide my hand under your shirt?”

His hands dip under the edge of my top and my stomach quivers, warm fingertips gently brushing across my skin just before his palms make full contact. Every bit of my focus zeros in on the heat, and my back arches as his hands slide up and under the bralette to cup the weight of both breasts. He squeezes, and my hips sway back and forth to rub against him.

In one move, he’s removed the shirt and bra over my head and dropped them on the floor. He yanks his shirt up and does the same. His warm chest folds over my back, and his hands return to my chest.

“You are so perfect,” he says against my cheek, and I turn my head so his hungry lips can capture mine. Over and over our tongues dance together. He tastes so good, feels so good. I reach one hand up and behind me to get lost in his hair, sending the other down around the back of his thigh to hold him closer.

“Do you know how many mornings I spent time in the shower thinking about what it would be like to start each day here?” His hands slide down my stomach, deftly unbuttoning my jeans and lowering the zipper. One hand slips underneath my underwear and covers the center of me.

“Bryan.” I say his name, not sure if I’m worshipping or begging, but it doesn’t matter because his mouth, tongue, hands, fingers, hips—they all start moving, all at the same time, and I’m overwhelmed with sensory overload.

Eventually, with his lips leaving mine for only a split second, he spins me in his arms so we’re facing each other. He pushes down my pants at the same time I start yanking on his shorts, and it all falls away, leaving us standing together naked for the first time.

I feel like I must have died and gone to heaven, because I can’t imagine anyone being more perfect than him. This moment feels so surreal, and all I can do is hold on to him for fear of floating away.

“I’ve dreamed about this moment my whole life,” his lips whisper just below my ear. Nothing, and I mean nothing could mean more to me than those words, and if I were capable, I would return the sentiment, but I can’t. I’m speechless.

He moves me toward the bed, the backs of my knees hit the edge, and I slowly sit. Bryan’s hand tangles in my hair as he stands in front of me, staring down at me, not moving. Being this close to parts of him I’ve only dreamed of, in my head I’m screaming, How did I get here? How did I get so lucky? Wrapping my hands around the backs of his thighs, I lean forward to taste him, but instead he shifts his hips backward and chuckles.

Lifting my gaze to find his, I see he’s smiling down at me, his breaths labored.

“Not this time.” He shakes his head, and I understand what he means. We’ve waited so long, and there’s only one way we both want this to end, so I scoot back and up the bed. He follows, his hands sliding up my legs, my stomach, through the valley of my breasts until both of his arms are braced next to my head and he hovers a few inches above me, his lips brushing against mine just once before he settles in and kisses me with abandon.

Feeling the weight of him as he presses me into the mattress, I take in the delicious clean scent of his skin. His breathing is ragged as his chest moves up and down against mine, and he tries to maintain some semblance of composure. I know without a doubt that no other moment in life will compare to this one, this first intimate moment with him, my unrequited love, the boy who stole my heart almost two decades ago.

“I need you,” he mumbles, his voice low and rough.

“I’m yours,” I answer, staring into the depths of his ocean blue eyes.

With that he pushes inside, and part of me blacks out from the sheer exhilaration of being with him like this. Everything about this is euphoric, dreamlike, and I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.

Slowly, tenderly, he begins to move back and forth, and my heart swells with emotions much greater than I thought possible. Wrapping my legs around his, I want to participate, I do, but as his hands slip under my hips and his mouth moves over mine to take me in every way possible, I find I’m perfectly content being a passenger as he drives us both to a level of bliss I’ve never known.

And he does.

Skin tingling. Heart exploding. Insides quivering from extreme rapture.

I don’t know how I’ll ever be the same again.

As his head falls next to mine, his hair damp against my temple and his breath attempting to pace itself, I embrace him with my arms and legs to hold him for as long as possible, wishing I never had to let go.

He eventually chuckles then props himself up on his elbows to look at me. Without saying anything, he offers an openness I’ve never seen in him. It’s clear affectionate eyes, an ease in his expression that borders on adoration and satiation, and puffy, swollen lips. His hair has fallen over his forehead, and I swear he looks like a golden Greek god.

My golden Greek god, and not anyone else’s, not even James’s.

When I first saw James’s room, a pang hit my chest so hard I thought my heart was failing. I’ve always known James was never going to move back to my house, but seeing his things here . . . it still hurt. I know they’ve always had this bond, but knowing he decided this without even telling me reminded me of how left out of their relationship I am and always have been.

But, at the same time, this weight of worry for him that I’ve been carrying around has lifted. He is settled, and outside of the military, he does have a home.

“What do we tell James?” I ask, turning to look at Bryan as he slides off and settles his weight next to me.