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Trey was now very close.
Kissing distance close.
“Maybelle.”
Her eyes snapped up from his lips back to his eyes and a half smile pulled at his features. Being this close Maybelle finally noticed the bruising of exhaustion under his eyes, the weariness of his smile. She had put this poor man through the ringer in the last week and she could see every bit of the pain and trepidation in his movements as he spoke.
“Can— can I hold you?” His question was so soft, a breath that almost blew Maybelle away into oblivion. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t function normally, but she managed to bob her head once. Trey didn’t hesitate, he closed the remaining distance and grappled her against him. His hand cradled the back of her head while his other arm completely encircled her waist.
“God, I missed you.” Trey’s admission was hot, deep, and airy in her ear. Hell, she missed him too. She missed every single bit of him.
“I’m sorry.” Maybelle tried but squeaked and Trey held her tighter.
“I want to say it’s ok, but it wasn’t. You fucking scared me, woman. I have been a mess without you.” The timbre of his voice shook with his rising emotions and Maybelle gripped the collar of his shirt in her hands. The guilt eating at her gut was crippling. Trey breathed deeply.
“But I understand, I understand why you left. Why you needed time.”Trey pulled back, examining her face then kissed the top of her head moving both hands to her hips, pressing their lower bodies together.
“Don’t ever leave me, without saying goodbye, again Maybelle. Don’t walk out on me, leaving no way for me to know if you’re alright. You can have all the alone time you need but spare my sanity and leave me a way to contact you, please.” He pressed his words into her hair then cupped her face with both of his hands.
“I’m afraid my heart is just too vulnerable when it comes to you, Maybelle Mason.” He whispered and Maybelle smiled at the use of her own words on the beach all those long months ago. When they had both been so young, so scared, and so naive to what their future had to offer them.
Maybelle should really say something but words evaded her so she responded the way Trey would have on the beach that night before they were interrupted.
She kissed him.
The kiss was soft, but it was deep and so full of feeling. It wasn’t a fleeting, subconscious show of affection but afinally, a coming home, a relief, an understanding, a deep breath, a morning in bed after the longest sleep.
Trey’s thumbs stroked her jaw, her neck. His lips and tongue caressed and praised. His body was magnetic and a force she had no other choice but to hold with all her strength to.
Maybelle tilted her head back, pleading for more, for him. She missed him, his hands, his heat, his gentle touch, his intoxicating kisses, his strong sculpted frame, and the desperation in which he held to her like she was the only way to breathe. Trey’s hand laced around the back of her neck, tangling with the curls at the nape. He parted from her then watched and waited.
“Talk to me, May. Tell me what you want.” Trey’s voice was husky, strained. Like it was painful for him to stop but he did.
Maybelle licked her lips, tasting the slight swollen feel ofthem. Her grip on his shirt flexed then her hands flattened on his chest as she realized this pause pained her as well.
“Trey.” She breathed, testing her voice. It was as unsteady as she anticipated but Trey’s eyes only softened as he continued with patience. Maybelle lifted her hand to his cheek, swiping her thumb near the corner of his mouth like she could coax that heartbreaking smile from him. The hand at her waist palmed her hip and she could feel the rapid beating of Trey’s heart under her touch.
“I love you.” She managed and Trey sighed into her, his forehead falling against hers. Like her declaration broke a dam of anxiety in him, allowing relief and stability to flood him. Maybelle looked up into those deep depths of green, whispering, “I need you, Trey.”
And he was kissing her.
His kiss shifted from reverence to hunger, pure need as his hands found her thighs and lifted her. Maybelle wrapped her legs around him, her fingers tangling with the silky tufts of his chocolate and caramel curls. Trey was walking but Maybelle couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think about where he was taking them. She could only feel, think, inhale, exhale and taste him. Her whole world, her reality was Trey Turner.
Trey lowered her onto her feet, the back of her knees meeting with the bed in her small bedroom. He peeled himself from her, his hands back to holding her face as he studied the scene. His gaze devoured the sight of her, the bed behind her and she trembled with the need to have him on top of her.
“I just need a second.” He said through a tight breath and Maybelle’s light brows rose, surveying him.
“Is something wrong?” She asked and Trey chuckled deeply.
“No, everything is so perfect.” He assured; his eyes gleaming with wonder. Then his mouth dropped to the base ofher throat trailing kisses across the exposed skin.
“The teenage boy in me is over the moon right now. It’s been a dream of his to kiss you silly in this bedroom, in this bed.” Trey smiled into the skin of her shoulder, as his hand lifted to slip the small strap of her tank top away and down her arm.
Maybelle giggled, half gasping when Trey sucked at the skin under her collar bone.
“Well, I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been a dream of mine to be kissed silly by you whenever and wherever you wanted.” She said confidently but her mouth quickly snapped shut.
Wow. Her life.
