Page 135 of Blue Jean Summer

She slid her feet an inch wider.

“Not enough,” I grunted as I hooked my arms behind her thighs, then threw them over my shoulders.

“Hayes!” she squeaked as she clung to the railing for dear life.

I shifted forward, pressing her back securely against the railing. “I’ve got you,” I said as I held on to the balcony rungs, letting her sit on my biceps and shoulders. I pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her soaked pussy. “Attagirl.”

“Hayes…” This time, my name wasn’t shrieked in fear. It was whispered in choked reverence, the same sound people make when they reach a summit and turn around to see the view they climbed and ached for.

In that moment, I made it my life’s purpose to hear Catherine say my name like that as often as I could.

I slid my tongue through her sex, teasing and sucking on her clit until she was panting. Slowly, one hand fell from the railing and tangled in my hair. Her body shifted and settled as she trusted me to hold her.

The night breeze was velvet soft as it danced along our limbs and through the trees. Her whispered pleas were twice as gentle. Golden hair spilled over the railing as she arched and rocked in pleasure.

My muscles ached, but there was no way I was letting her go. Lights from the bedroom turned her perfect breasts into beacons. Fireflies danced in the darkness in waves of shimmering sparks, glorifying her radiance.

A desperate cry slipped from Catherine’s mouth as her thighs tightened around my ears. “Make me come,” she begged. “Please.”

I shook my head and nipped at her clit.

“Hayes.” My name was a broken cry. “Please.”

“Not yet,” I mumbled into the crease of her thigh. “Don’t rush me when I’m kneeling at my altar.”

Her other hand released from the railing, and she clung to me as I lapped at her entrance. “That’s my girl. Trust me to hold you. Trust me to make you feel good.”

She whimpered, desperate for more but unable to form the words. Every little sound was music to my ears.

Catherine gasped as I pulled her away from the railing and stood. She wrapped her arms and legs around me while I carried her inside. Each step matched the synchronized beat of our hearts.

I didn’t bother closing the doors. Catherine’s hands roamed over my skin as I laid her out on the bed and climbed over her, meeting in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Hayes,” she whispered in a panic. “I need you to fuck me. Please. Right now.”

But instead of immediately sinking deep into her the way I wanted to, I cupped her cheek. “We have time.”

Catherine whimpered as she squeezed her legs together, trying to ease the hunger.

I cupped her sex, pressing my thumb to her clit to keep her on edge just a little longer. “We have time, Cath. I promise.”

“Not enough,” she croaked.

I kissed her, sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips until she let me in. “How much time do you want?” I asked as I kissed her temple, then the corner of her eye, then the corner of her mouth, and the dip of her collarbone.

“All of it,” she gasped when the swollen head of my cock pressed against her slick entrance and slowly slid inside.

“I swear to you, every minute I get after this one is yours. Every goddamn one. Just promise that you’ll give me all of yours.”

She nodded feverishly, desperate for me to move. “I promise.”

I didn’t believe in soulmates, but I believed in her.

I believed that whatever convoluted circumstances brought us together were completely irrelevant. I believed that Catherine was meant for me.

I believed that the detour she took to spend a summer as my wife wasn’t a detour at all. Rather, it was a fork in the road.

I believed that the ring I had put on her finger would stay there until our last breaths.