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I hear the words, but since he says them between kisses I ignore them and focus on the movement underwater. The more I rock my hips the better it feels, the tighter Wes pulls me to him. The only way this ends is if Wes pries me away, and based on the moans rumbling in his throat, that isn’t going to happen.
When the tremors start my leg muscles give out, and a breathy gasp escapes my mouth. Wes takes over, his strong arms pressing our bodies together as he rocks against me, wringing every last bit of pleasure from my core. I can tell when he finds his own because his entire body goes still, save for the rhythmic pulsing I feel against my center.
As the adrenaline fades our kisses morph from urgent to sweet, desperate to tender. Wes runs his fingers over my back, and I trace mine along the back of his neck and shoulders, committing him to memory.
“Sawyer.” His voice cracks as he leans his forehead against mine.
“I know,” I breathe shakily. “Just this once.”
We stay like that, locked together, bobbing with the waves, until our skin starts to prune. Then we make our way slowly back to the hotel, and the last dinner of our vacation.
* * *
It’s unseasonably warm for mid-April, but feels just right after coming back from Mexico. Dad and Wes are taking advantage of the comfortable temperature, running drills in the backyard while I watch. Normally, I’d avoid this type of thing, but I figured I’d take advantage of what little time I have left to see Wes up close. Plus, that business associate who didn’t know a thing about football is now his fiance, one I think I’ll actually like, and hanging out with her while the guys play ball gives me a chance to get to know her better.
“Lemonade for you.” Samantha hands me a glass and takes the seat next to me.
“Thanks.”
“Your dad says prom is coming up. Are you excited?”
“Not really.” I swirl the straw in my glass.
“No? I thought school dances are supposed to be a big deal?”
“Didn’t you ever go to one?” I squint at her, curious.
“We didn’t have those kinds of things in Africa.”
“Oh. I forgot you grew up there.” That’s one thing that makes Samantha kind of cool. She grew up without the material things Dad’s former girlfriends wanted him to spoil them with, so she’s more down-to-earth than the others. And she’s not with him for his money.
It remains to be seen how she’ll handle his devotion to football, because I’m not sure he’ll be able to make her the priority long-term the way he has for the past few months, but of all the girls he’s been with this is the one I hope sticks.
“Yeah, some girls get really excited about dances, I think for the dresses mostly. Or their dates. I’m not going with a date. There’s a group of people going together and Wes said I should join them.” I can’t help glancing in his direction as I say his name, but I try to hide it by taking a sip of lemonade.
“But you get to dress up. My friend Delaney made that sound like the best part, and since I get to dress up once in a while for fundraisers I kind of see her point. It’s fun.”
“I guess. But I just did that for the wedding. Wes and I are going to wear the same clothes actually. It doesn't make sense to get new stuff when we already have clothes that will work.”
“I saw that dress. You looked beautiful in it.”
“Thanks,” I say bashfully. I’m used to Dad’s girlfriends trying to butter me up, but Samantha’s tone doesn’t hide an ulterior motive. I think she genuinely means the compliment.
“Got any plans for the summer?” Samantha asks.
“Not really. Running. And I’ll probably try to look for a job.”
“But nothing definite?”
“No. Why?” Her sudden interest has me wary.
“Well, I have a proposition for you.” She fiddles with the napkin under her glass.
“Okaaay?”
“I’ve been asked to help organize a foundation that helps educate women in other countries.”
“Cool.” I’m not sure why that’s a big deal since her whole business is building charities, and I definitely don’t understand what it has to do with me, but her fingers are awfully twitchy.
