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His tongue dances with mine while our soft moans find their familiar rhythm. His hard body urges against mine, and it’s been over a year, and arousal explodes through my every nerve.
I need air. I need to yank my top off. I do because there’s a fire in my sex we need to quell while I stand before him in my bikini top, my ribs huffing for breath.
“Fuck,” he sighs, looking at me. “I missed you.”
I drop my jean shorts to the floor. “Take ten seconds or rip me apart again; I don’t care because I missed you too.”
“Oh, I’ll do both,” he replies, reaching to tickle his fingertips under the edge of my bikini bottoms. Lust weighs his eyes down, but he thinks it through.
“Cade, I’ve been sober and celibate ever since. And I’m clear.”
Fuck, that turns me on and soothes my heart that he’s waited that long again.
“What about you?” he dares to ask.
“There was someone else.”
Pain flashes across his eyes. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to wait on me or even to forgive me.”
“We did wait on you.” I grin. “Me and Mr. Blue.”
He smile lights up the room.
“I thought you broke him.”
“Only in two pieces. I glued it back.”
He chuckles. “You fixed my dick?”
“Yep.” I strip off my bikini.
His eyes watch mine as his board shorts drop to the floor too.
“Look.” His real one springs to large life. “You’ve fixed my dick in many ways.”
Stepping into his shadow, I barely touch it. “What about you?” Pushing it down to the vice of my thighs, I tease his tip with the wet that’s starting to coat my crevice. “What kept you satisfied?”
“I’ve destroyed six pillows and have carpal tunnel from moaning your name.”
His hips thrust gently into my gap while my nipples graze inches below his. He stopped waxing his chest. It’s so sexy, the hair dusting his sculpted pecs. And his arm, he has new tattoos.
But nothing captures my gaze more, falling down his shredded body, than our matching tattoos. We stare at them, his fingertips lingering over mine, our past, our connection—two dorsal fins paired for life. His light touch over our story, it makes me tremble.
“I stopped my birth control,” I confess that too. “It made me more depressed, and I didn’t need it.”
“We don’t need it,” he says, “at least, I’m ready. But I have condoms.”
“Redix, I’m ready too, but what if…”
The sight of him, of life slipping from his breath, I can’t shake it. It’ll haunt me forever.
“Life is nothing but ‘ifs.’” His hands lift my jaw. “And if I get to spend the rest of my life with you, Cade, it’ll be the happiest one.”
Our kiss affirms everything, his tongue sweeping gently through my mouth, all my hesitation gone. “No condoms. I’ve waited too long for this. For our dream together.”
His arms sweep me up before he tosses me, giggling onto the plush new bed.
“Lie there,” he demands, smiling, “on our bed where you belong.”
