Page 271 of One Wild Wish

We lived in the pause, the shower making a mess of her bathroom, Gwen making a mess of my heart. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Then I let her move. I palmed her breasts, watched greedily as her head tipped back and lips dropped open. I slid my hands down her body, supported her hips, met her each time she lowered. Still slow, still drawing out our pleasure.

The longest seconds in history.

I flipped her on her back, inching us farther out of the shower. On my knees, I canted her hips and thrust into her again, deeper than before. I watched each slow drag of my cock pulling out and pushing in. Fire shot up my thighs. “Wish you could see how beautiful you are.” Her tight, glistening pussy swallowing my length.

“We’ll video it next time.”

Possessiveness surged through me at the notion. My girl, on camera for me. Something to enjoy when we’re apart. “Damn right, we will.”

I pumped into her harder, faster, deeper. I fell forward, ground my pelvis where she needed me. She caught her breath each time we connected, dug her fingers into my back. I sucked on her neck, wanted to leave a mark. A tattoo. A permanent reminder of who loved her, no matter what that box brought.

She may have said we’d work through anything, that she’d put us first, but that box was a wild card. It could alter everything.

We had now, at least. This incomprehensible perfection on a wet floor, her nearby birth control a reminder of our pledge. Just us. We’d always come first.

My orgasm threatened to rip down my spine, building, building.

Her knees dug into my sides. “I’m so…”

“Me, too.”

“You feel…”

“So fucking good.”

Her first contraction squeezed me so hard, I spasmed. She cried out—the sexiest song I’d ever heard. My grunts followed, her name mixing with the sounds as I pumped harder and spilled into her, blinding bursts that never seemed to end. We both shuddered.

“We’re on the floor again,” she said into my neck and held me closer.

“A very wet floor.” Which meant we couldn’t linger. “Cuddling will have to wait.” I kissed her deeply, then lifted up.

She touched where we were joined as I pulled out, an erotic move that had me wanting to plunge back into her. “I’m not done with you yet,” I said. “I’ll shut off the shower. Meet me in the bedroom.”

Round two had her ass in the air, my chest pressed to her back, a soft mattress finally below us. I couldn’t drag out my pleasure long enough, loved learning every rhythm and angle that made her moan. It was a rougher affair. Skin slapping. More fucks shouted as my orgasm winded me. She claimed I’d turned her into jelly.

I kissed the back of her neck afterward, stayed in her as long as possible. “Not sure how I’ll live without this.” I shouldn’t mention my impending departure, but there was no point denying the inevitable.

She pushed her hips back into me. “Our reunion will be so sweet.”

The comment was lighthearted, but there was no disguising the break in her voice.

Needing to see her face, I pulled out and cleaned us up with a towel. Gwen’s bedroom was simple and neat. Blue-gray walls, a gym bag on the floor, laundry basket, fitness and outdoor magazines on her dresser. There was one photo, a candid of her with Rachel and Ainsley. Her friends, not her family. I wanted my picture here, too, to be her family. She was already that for me, but Gwen had always searched for more. Pined for it.

More reason the box in the kitchen could hurt her, and us.

I wanted to lounge under the sheets together, forget the world for the rest of the day, but I needed to know what I was dealing with. It was her birthday, too. We had plans with her friends. Last thing I wanted was to upend Gwen’s life more than I already had, especially when I was taking off tomorrow. She’d need her friends more than ever.

I crawled onto the bed, grabbed her hand, and lifted her to sitting. I kissed her nose. “I think it’s time.”

“To have sex again?”

Sneaky little vixen. “If I was twenty, maybe, but this old man needs a break. And we have a box to open.”

“Old-schmold,” she mumbled. Her silliness drained as she picked her nails. “Will you bring it in here? Actually”—she gripped my wrist as though I’d slip away—“what did my mother mean in her note, when she wrote: Remember what I told you on Gwen’s birthday ?”

With all we’d been through, I’d forgotten about that detail. “I called her, to get your address, and she said the wildest thing.”

“What did she say?” Gwen looked like she was holding her breath.