The flowing branches swing with the breeze and the bay comes into view. “It’s so beautiful here,” I say before I close my eyes and settle into the warmth from behind me.
“You’re beautiful,” Beau says as he places a kiss to my shoulder. “You know how much I love you, right?”
Turning in his arms, I look him in the eye and raise a questioning eyebrow. “Of course. I love you, too.”
“You mean so much to me. We only have this summer before I leave. I just wanted you to know how much I care for you. Prom night was—I don’t have words for what you shared with me but know I cherish that gift. Your love has given me everything I have—everything I need.”
Cupping my hands over his cheeks, I take in the words he shared, and my chest explodes. “We’ll only be three and a half hours apart for one year, then we’ll be together again. I didn’t make you anything, you’ve always been this man.” At this he looks away. “Hey, I loved you before and I love you now.”
“I love you, Buttercup,” he whispers bringing his lips to mine. I sigh into his touch. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. My brother’s best friend, the boy the town turned their backs on, the all-state running-back has captured my heart.
Slowly, our kisses grow deeper, and I open to his tongue. We explore each other until kissing isn’t enough. I need more— something I never felt until our first time at prom. Even though this is only our second time together, I feel like I’ll never have enough of him.
His lips leave mine and start pressing light pecks against jaw to my neck. Tilting my head back, I open to him willingly. He dusts kisses along my neck, hitting the sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and a moan slips past my lips.
He feels so good. His lips tasting and loving as his hands brush under my shirt and lift caressing my ribs until he pulls back only long enough to discard the clothing to the soft blanket.
“I love you,” he whispers taking hold of my hips and lifting until I’m straddling his lap. The evidence of his arousal clear. A tingle spreads throughout my body when I think about the reaction, he has to me. It’s the same way my body grows warm and needy when with him. I’ve never felt this way about another person, and I don’t think I ever will for anyone else.
My jean skirt rides up my thighs as I grind my hips against his erection. He holds my hips to keep me still as he stares deep into my eyes. There’s a kindness there—a love only he shows to me. But there’s also a darkness. Beau hasn’t had the easiest life and it’s left its scars, but we’ve grown together. Healed the memories that to anyone else would be terrifying nightmares.
It’s the darkness that I’m drawn to the most. A piece of him that only I can bring light to. Slowly standing, I strip out of the last articles of clothing that keep me from feeling all of him. Beau jumps into action standing in front of me and taking his clothing off until he’s reaching for me skin to skin.
Bring his lips to mine, he takes me in a deep kiss. One that leaves me breathless and ready to beg for more. His hands come up to cup my jaw as he crashes into me in a much more frenzied mashing of lips and tongue before his fingers trace down my spine then below my bottom. Suddenly, I’m being lifted off the ground and instinctively, I wrap my legs around his hips. His stiff rod caught between us, but not nearly close enough to where my body is begging to be filled.
Slowly, he lowers to his knees, then bending forward until my back softly hits the chill of the blanket. His lips never leaving mine as he moves into position between my thighs. One hand brace himself against the ground near my shoulder, while the other traces circles around my clit.
“Ah,” I cry out softly at the intense feeling of his rounded head against my needy bundle of nerves.
“Buttercup, it’s only the second time. It might hurt.” His concern for me over his desire makes me love him even more.
“It’s okay,” I say, cupping his face with one hand while wrapping the other around his back.
“Take a deep breath,” he says positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Now, let it out.”
Just as I begin to release my breath, I feel the dull pain of my tight hole stretching to fit all of Beau in at once. My breath catches in my throat, but it doesn’t hurt so much as being full.
I promised myself when I was young I would wait until marriage, but with Beau that’s a foregone conclusion. This man has my heart now and forever. As he begins to move and whisper sweet words of long in my ear, I know I’ll never find another soul that matches mine like Beau does.
Pulling up to the bay view colonial three-bedroom house, I feel like I need three years to decompress from the day. At twenty-eight, I didn’t think a class full of six- and seven-year olds could run me as ragged as my student did today. I need a large glass of wine and so many bubbles in a warm bath I won’t be able to see the water beneath.
Looking over at the blacked-out truck parked beside mine a smile graces my exhausted face. This is a nice surprise—I didn’t expect him home yet. Normally, I’m home in time to get dinner ready. Tightening my hand on the steering wheel light catches the big three stone ring situated on my left-hand finger, and my chest tightens.
Maybe I’ll have a bath buddy tonight. Happy with the change of events, I collect the two tote bags of papers to grade over the weekend. Kicking the door closed, I make my way up the front steps to the door. This house is beautiful, but I didn’t think of all the trips up and down the steep seven steps with my hands full when I said yes to moving in.
“Honey, I’m home,” I holler, but get no response. Setting down my bags on the kitchen table, I make my way up the stairs to our bedroom. “Hello, anyone home?”
Trudging up the stairs, I can really feel my age—I’m exhausted. Planning a wedding over spring break was a great idea in theory, but all the extra work I’ve taken on this year as department head has made it so much more stressful than I thought.
With one last step, I’m on the second-floor landing and headed for our bedroom. “Honey?” I ask pushing on the door.
A head of blond hair hovers over a suitcase while my fiancé throws clothing inside. He finally notices me and removes the earbuds from his ears. “Hey, babe,” Mason says, green eyes glowing and a wide smile on his clean-shaven face. I’m used to seeing a little scruff on his cheeks, so the clean face and the suitcase only mean one thing.
“You’re leaving again?” It’s said like a question, but I already know the answer. This is the third time in the past three weeks. Our wedding is at the beginning of next month, and he is saddling me with all the DIY table decorations we said we’d do together, yet again.
“Darlin’, you know I’d only leave if it was absolutely necessary,” he says, with his thick southern drawl I’ve grown up hearing here in Alabama, as he walks toward me.
I feel deflated. After the day I’ve had all I wanted to do was take a bath and snuggle in bed wrapped around his warm body. But it looks like it will be least a few nights until that can happen by the looks of how much he’s packed.
“Mason, why does it always have to be you? Your dad knows we’re planning a wedding here, right?” I ask, even though I know his father, Grant, has been more than accommodating with the wedding planning. Footing the entire bill being the most generous of his offers.