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His face crumples and for a minute, it looks like he’s going to cry, but I kiss him instead, not wanting him to speak or God forbid, break down. I drag him inside, shutting the door with my foot as we kiss.
“Bedroom,” I murmur between kisses.
Once again, we shed our clothes as we kiss. He pulls the covers back and lays me down, entering me immediately as we pick up where we left off earlier in the Mile High Rooms.
***
Iwake up smiling,my mind immediately going to the night I’ve had. Blinking my eyes open, I look around and frown. The spot beside me—the chest I slept on—is gone. Sunlight filters through my bedroom window and I’m confused.
Where is Eric?
Did I dream last night?
No, I did not. The soreness between my legs and the stickiness on my thighs reminds me that I did not, in fact, dream that up.
The kisses. The touches. The way our bodies connected, over and over. His mouth on my pussy, giving me countless orgasms until I couldn’t take it anymore. His lips sucking my nipples. The sting of my ass cheek as he spanked me while riding me from behind.
I don’t think there’s a position we didn’t try.
I can’t help the smile that finds my lips when I think about how loving he was, how tender each touch and kiss. Even when we were being wild and rough, it still felt loving. Every caress of my skin told me he missed me as much as I missed him, and that he never wanted to leave my side. The things he whispered are seared into my brain.
“I love you, too...”
“I missed you so much...”
“I can’t stand to be apart from you, Christa...”
“We shouldn’t be apart...”
So, where is he now?
I flip the covers back and wander out of the bedroom, praying he’s in the kitchen, maybe making me breakfast or at least coffee.
But he’s not. The house is deathly quiet. He’s not here.
He’s gone.
