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Inside Yael.
My lips found her neck, and my hands gripped her hips for dear life. She rocked on me, going slow at first, then building and building. I had to be the worst lay she ever had, letting her do it all, but I was too overwhelmed to even attempt to move. And what she was doing felt too fucking good for words.
“Do you like it, Alex? Does it feel good?” Her voice was higher, dulcet and breathy. Her inner muscles squeezed, making me shake and my eyes roll back. “You don’t have to talk. I feel you. You feel so perfect.”
There were so many things I’d do to her if I were in my right mind. Lay her out, taste her breasts and between her thighs. Learn her flavor and what made her lose control. Kiss her from sunrise to sunset. Flip her over and fuck her so hard neither of us could see straight.
I wasn’t there, though. This wasn’t the time. All I could do was hang on and take what was being offered. I could nudge the bodice of Yael’s dress aside and bury my face between her small breasts and wrap my lips around her pale, pink nipples.
She cried out and tightened around me, whimpering, “Yes, yes, yes,” as I sucked and laved. It was too much. Too good. If I had a choice, this moment would last a lifetime. But my body had other ideas.
Abs tightening, heart fluttering like mad, I teetered so close to the edge, all I could see was the air above and below me.
“I can’t...fuck, I’m about to come.” I gritted my molars together, hanging on by my fingertips.
She pushed down as far as she could go, grinding her pelvis on mine, then she slipped her hand between us, circling her clit. “Alex…oh, Alex…” She shuddered and fell against me. My cock pulsed as she squeezed, and I let go, grunting and coming while I held her as close as I could. For that brief snapshot of time, everything was all right. No death, no pain, no sorrow—it all disappeared. There was just us, bathing in pleasure and the warmth of each other.
Yael laid on my chest, holding me, letting me hold her, for a while. Not long enough. Nothing would have been long enough.
When she finally spoke, it was the last thing I wanted to hear.
“Shit, Mo’s going to kill me.” She eased off me, and it was one of the worst feelings I’d ever had knowing I’d most likely never get to be inside her again. “I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Stop being sorry, dammit. You have nothing to be sorry for. That was the best five minutes of my life, even though it kills me it was only five minutes.” I chuckled, wiping sweat off my forehead. “Worth the wait.”
She stopped straightening her dress, her head jerking up. “Wait, what? That couldn’t have been…”
My fingers skated over her collarbone. “The first time? Yeah. I’ve messed around, but hadn’t done the deed yet.”
She puffed her cheeks, then blew out a loud breath. “We should go back inside.”
“Right.” Yael climbed out of my chair so I could put myself back to rights, then I stood too. “The real world is waiting.”
Before my heart could break in two and then a thousand, she slammed into me, giving me a shockingly fierce hug. We stood there with the crickets and the stars, hugging without speaking. She let me lean on her in every way.
A while later, we walked back toward the house. At the patio door, Yael stopped me with her hand on my forearm.
“Hey, I forgot I wanted to give you something. It’s silly and you don’t have to keep it, but…” She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a tiny oval frame. “I made it for you.”
I held the frame in the palm of my hand. It couldn’t have been more than three or four inches tall. Inside was an intricate needlepoint portrait of my grandpa. She’d gotten his wild, red-mixed-with-white hair exactly right. His wry smile was stunningly lifelike. Each minute detail, each thread, added together to make a loving depiction of Charlie Murray.
Yael was an artist, and needle and thread tended to be her most commonly used medium, but she rarely shared her art. Like, so rarely, I’d only seen a couple pieces she’d given to Mo. This...this was a treasure in more ways than one.
“Yael…” I broke down, sobbing for more than just the loss of my granddad. I couldn’t put into words what this meant, how this kindness from her destroyed me more than if she’d been a total bitch after we had sex. Because I was certain she’d walk away tonight and we’d go back to being near-strangers.
“Crap, I made you sadagain. I’m so dreadful.” Her arms wrapped around my middle in a more delicate embrace. “I’ll take it back. You don’t have to look at it anymore.”
“No, I want it. You’re not getting it, Cool Girl. It’s mine.” I gently pushed her away, forcing myself to laugh while she tried to snatch the portrait. “Mine.”
“Fine, I give up. But don’t tell Mo I made you cry...or about the other thing.” She tucked her hands in the pockets of her dress and crossed her legs at the ankle, looking both unsure and ladylike.
“It’s in the vault.”
Her eyes traveled over me. There was a hesitation in her, but it cleared away as fast as it came. “I really am sorry, Alex...about Charlie. He was the best of the best.”
Swallowing down glass shards of sorrow, I nodded. “He was.”
She went inside first, and when I followed a few minutes later, she had already disappeared, leaving me alone in the dark—the same way she’d found me.
