He moved over her. Inside her. Driving himself deep. Bringing emotions to the surface every time they came fully together, every time their bodies slapped gently against each other.
Happiness. Hope. Relief.
Love. So much love.
She clutched him—arms, legs, fingers digging deep into his shoulders, dragging up and down his back. Marking him, making him hers and nobody else’s. Holding on to him for all she was worth and letting him take her as far as she could go.
“More,” she whispered in his ear before nipping the lobe until he growled.
It was sweeter than before since she’d worried they would never have this again. Not only the pleasure pooling in her core, turning her into a gasping, moaning wreck. The connection too. The sense of stripping away everything outside of what was important. The two of them, the only thing that mattered.
His eyes locked on to hers. Lust was there. Heat. Desire.
And love. She would never question that again.
No matter how she wanted to close her eyes, to let him take her away, she couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to waste a moment of knowing he was there with her. Really there. That more than their bodies had joined in this most basic and fundamental act.
“I love you,” she whispered between strong, deep thrusts that drove both of them closer to the edge and beyond. “I love you.”
“Missy …” He kissed her once, twice, before smiling. “I love you. Always.”
Always.
If always meant this for the rest of her life—Trent with her, inside her, loving her—that was more than enough.
Yeah, that will work.
Maggie will surely think so. Granted, she made me considerably spice up their first encounter, but otherwise, she was happy as a clam with the rest of the book.
Though, of course, in typical Maggie fashion, she had to ask for details.
“So? What was he like? Are you still seeing him?”
“He was nice. And, no, I’m not seeing him. He served his purpose.”
She didn’t like that too much. “I don’t want you to think of these relationships that way.”
“They aren’t relationships. Not all of them.”
“Fine. Hook-ups. Does that sound better? I don’t want you to think about it that way.” She sniffed softly before adding, “I don’t think of it that way. If anything, I envy you.”
Well, it took long enough for her to be serious about it. Sure, she’d been joking all this time about how nice it would be, living in my shoes. Being young and unattached and able to date around and have sexy adventures.
She didn’t ever come out and talk about it seriously. Not until our conversation after I submitted the first draft.
I’m working on edits now, but overall I’m happy with the finished product.
I guess, in the end, that’s the most an author can say. That they’re proud of their work. Happy with it. That they did the best they could.
I only wish I felt better about this one. It’s sort of bittersweet really since thinking back on the week at the resort makes me smile. The memories themselves are nice, so long as I separate them from what happened afterward.
Is that what I’m supposed to learn from this?
Inevitably I have ended up learning something from each of the men I’ve dated—something about myself. About my self-worth. What I’m willing to put up with and what I can’t.
I’ve learned how to speak up for myself in a relationship.
How to set boundaries.
How to let go and not attach so much importance to every little thing that happens.
Though I’ve clearly got a long way to go, since I’m still smarting over Kellen. He taught me a valuable lesson though.
Don’t let window dressings fool you.
“I let him fool me,” I concluded to Hayley not long after we heard he was released from the hospital. “The whole external package. The charm, the designer clothing, the expensive watch and perfect haircut. He sold himself well. I bought the whole image.”
“Don’t be upset. And don’t let it trick you into overthinking everything more than you already do. I would hate to see this set you back when I’ve been working so hard at forcing you to loosen up a little.”
“Oh! Is that what you’ve been working on all this time?”
“Please. I deserve a full-time salary. Benefits. A 401(k), for that matter.”
“I’ll look into it.”
Still, no amount of joking around can lessen the fact that I bought into the image that Kellen was selling. I hope for his sake that, one day, it’ll be more than just an image. That he’ll grow to be the man he presents to the world.
It comes as a complete surprise when he calls me a few days after I sent him the first draft. I wanted him to see it, to know I didn’t paint him as some degenerate. I would never do that. It’s not how I see him.
But I wanted him to know for sure since, in the end, we didn’t get to know each other all that well. He might like me, but there’s no real reason for him to trust me.
Amazing, how clear things are on this side of things. In Manhattan, in my apartment, away from the beach and the patio and the pool. Now that the giddy flush of lust has waned.
“So?” I’m pacing the living room, chewing my thumbnail, wishing I could fast-forward through this conversation and be done with it. “What did you think of your counterpart?”
“He is nothing like me.”
“Oh, stop.”
“He isn’t. He’s a much nicer person than I am.”
“He pushed Missy into the pool when they first met.”
“She sort of deserved it.”
“Okay. Now, I know you’re kidding.”
He snorts softly. “A little. No, seriously, it’s a fantastic book. I’ve never read a romance before, but your book was better than I imagined.”
I don’t have it in me to pretend this isn’t funny. “What did you think? It’s all heaving bosoms?”
“And fiery loins. Yeah.” When I laugh out loud, he insists, “That’s how it always was in my mom’s novels back in the day!”
“Oh, but you’ve never read a romance novel before reading mine?”
He grumbles, “Only the good parts. I mean, I was twelve and curious and horny all the time. A twelve-year-old boy will do just about anything to satisfy those urges.”
“I bet.”
Darn it, this is so nice. I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody I got along with so well, so quickly. We understand each other. We have a similar sense of humor—for the most part. He’s a little darker than I am.
“So, you approve of Trent?”
“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t say otherwise.” He sighs softly. “Not after what I put you through.”
“You didn’t put me through all that much. Don’t beat yourself up. It wasn’t that severe.” I almost used the word serious, but that could have been taken the wrong way.
Every once in a while, I manage to think twice before my tongue runs away with me.
“And how are you?” I ask since I’m just about bursting with curiosity.