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When he is fully seated inside me, I mewl into the sheets and tighten my fists. He relaxes his hands for a split second before clamping down harder. Tomorrow, my body will artfully display the evidence of our reunion. And I plan to revel in every single line and stroke and strawberry on my skin. Cherish them and create new ones before they fade. Memorize the feel of them and how they came to be.
Gavin doesn’t move for a minute and I peer over my shoulder at him. His eyes closed and brow furrowed. Before I open my mouth to ask if everything is okay, a tear rolls down his cheek. I push up so I’m on my hands and knees, ready to spin around and soothe whatever sadness has taken hold. Just as I straighten, he presses a palm flat between my shoulder blades and presses me down to the bed.
“Gavin, are you okay?” I ask, genuinely worried.
His hand rests between my scapulae a beat before gliding back to my hip. “Never better, baby,” he chokes out.
“Then why are you crying?”
My eyes still trained on his as he stares down at me. “Because I haven’t been this happy in a really long time.”
“Happy tears?” I ask because I have to be certain.
“Yes, baby. Happy tears.” And then he rocks his hips back and drives forward.
He fills me so fully, I forget how to breathe. How to speak. My eyes roll back and I groan. “Oh fuck…”
In. Out. Stroke after stroke, he brings us both closer to nirvana. His hips slap my ass, balls whack my clit, head of his cock rubs the nerve endings inside my walls. Building. Climbing. Taller. Higher. His tempo increases and I know he is trying to get me there before he lets go. As if confirmation of my thoughts, his hand snakes around my waist and his finger circles my clit. His hips piston faster as our moans consume every lick of empty space in the room.
“Gavin…” I wring the sheets in my fists. “So close. Don’t stop.”
He adds more pressure to my clit and circles faster as his hips thrust like a well-oiled machine. I clamp my eyes shut as my breath comes in short, staggered whimpers. On the next stroke, the head of his cock strokes perfectly over the nerve cluster in my walls and I detonate. A grunting scream rips from my throat as he continues to slam into me. My vision blanks as I convulse and milk his cock.
My orgasm feels like a never-ending stream of consciousness as Gavin releases inside me. Only when his hips slow and he collapses over top of me, does my body calm down.
“Holy shit,” he breathes into my hair.
Gavin rests his head beside mine, arms clutching my breasts and belly, and heaves. No intimacy compares to what Gavin and I share. It isn’t just the sex—although sex with Gavin is literal euphoria.
Intimacy with Gavin is so much more. Friendship and love. Sunsets and strolls in the park. Shared whispers and tender kisses. Side glances and subtle smiles. Speaking without words. Acceptance. An incomparable bond. A life force all its own. The promise of forever.
My hips drop to the mattress and I relax more than I have in thirteen years. Gavin lays beside me and I roll to face him. He drags me closer to him, weaves our legs together, and plays with the ends of my hair. Tenderness bleeds from his pores into mine. So pure and true. He leans in and kisses my lips, the tip of my nose, then my forehead.
When our breathing regulates, he traces my cheekbones with his finger, then my lips—his eyes fixed on the movement. One, two, three heartbeats later, his gray eyes lock on mine. Gets lost in them. We lay like this for minutes or hours, entranced with each other. No words are spoken—not that they need to be. We simply breathe each other in. Realign our souls. Remember the feeling of us.
For the next several hours, we memorize every inch of the other’s body. Learn all the new lines and curves and dips and scars. And get lost in paradise time and time again.
* * *
I peek over Gavin’s shoulder at the clock and check the time. Five twenty-one. For the last seven-plus hours, we have worshiped one another. And although I would love nothing more than to pass out wrapped in his arms right now, a different idea pops in my head.
I bolt up and fumble through the darkness. “Cora, what are you doing?” His mumble is sweet and inquisitive as he props himself up on his elbows.
“Get dressed. I want to go somewhere.”
Gavin glances at the clock, then flops on his back. “Come back to the bed and cuddle with me. We can go later.” As adorable as he is in this very moment, I resist the temptation of falling back into the sheets with him.
After stepping into a fresh pair of lacy boy short panties, I slip on a pair of black jeans. “Can’t wait. It’s time sensitive.”
Gavin sits up and stares at me as I yank a shirt from a hanger. In the dark, I have no idea what shirt it is, nor do I care. I tug it over my head then walk over to the bed and grab his hand. He gives in and stands up, pulling me to his chest and kissing me. “Okay, baby. Where are we going?” he asks as he locates his clothes and dresses.
“It’s a surprise. But you’ll love it. Promise.”
While Gavin finishes dressing, I head out to the kitchen, feed and love on Luna, and make us both a large to-go mug of coffee. When he emerges from the bedroom, I hand him a steaming mug and place a kiss on his cheek. We’re quiet as we walk out the back door and get into my car. After a little maneuvering around Gavin’s car, we get on the road as I speed toward our destination.
Less than thirty minutes later, we land on Central Avenue in downtown St. Petersburg and head toward the water. The streets are still dark, but slowly waking up in the early morning hours. Soon, I park the car, feed a meter on Beach Drive and grab a blanket from the back of the car—one I kept back there to protect my camera equipment when I cart it onto the beach during shoots.
Gavin slips his hand around mine and I guide us near the waterfront. Near the new pier is a small man-made beach. We open up the blanket and spread it out on the sand. Gavin sits with knees up and legs spread, and I sit down between them. He wraps his arms around me and pins me close to his body.
