Page 80 of Troubles

I roll us gently so I’m braced above her, breaking the kiss only enough to whisper against her lips, “I love you, Lisbeth. Don’t want to imagine being without you.”

I want her, but more than that, I want her to know it’s with my heart—not just my cock.

She shifts beneath me, pulling me closer.

“I came here to say goodbye. To be done with us, to move on.” Lisbeth slides her hand down my torso, fitting it between our bodies. She wraps her long slender fingers around my cock and strokes me gently. “I never imagined that we would be here. Together but still saying goodbye.”

I kiss a trail down her neck, across her collarbone, tasting her, breathing her in. Memorizing every detail until we are together again. There’s nothing between us, not a fucking thing. No history, no past, no misunderstandings.

“Not goodbye. This isn’t goodbye, Lisbeth. This is forever.”

She gasps as I slide into her, twining her legs around me. With my heart beating against her hand, I hold the other one above her head, my thumb rubbing circles on her wrist. Each of us feeling the pulse of this love that neither of us expected to find.

I rock slowly, not wanting an inch of space between us. Wanting to draw this out as long as possible. Wanting to stay here forever in this perfect bubble and never let her go. I suppress every primal urge to mark her as mine for all the world to see.

Instead, I love her, worship her body, and thank God she’s given me another chance.

Lis’ gasps mix with mine as we move against each other—with each other. Climbing. Building. I want to touch her everywhere all at the same time, desperate to show her how much I love her, how she owns every piece of my heart.

Slowly, we reach the top of the wave, our orgasms thrumming reverently through us. The world falling away leaving only the two of us, nothing else.

We’ve delayed it—we’ve actively avoided it.

And now we’re late to the airport.

“Ohmygod ohmygod… I’m not gonna miss my flight, am I?” Lis is frantic, bouncing and shifting in her seat. “Aidan, I cannot miss this flight. My classes start tomorrow.”

Her eyes are wide and pleading, all the serenity from the hours of losing ourselves in one another, gone.

I whip the car into a spot blessedly open in the front row of the car park. Lisbeth jumps out and meets me at the boot of the car.

I grab her bag and her hand and we run like mad for the terminal.

“You won’t miss it. Boarding isn’t ’til half ten. You’ll”—I glance at my watch and grind my teeth—“you should be okay.”

Hands clasped, we weave and dodge through the crowds of slow-moving people—people who actually showed up on time. People who are on holiday. People who don’t have to put half of their heart on a plane across the ocean not knowing if it will be two weeks or two months until they can be together again.

We’re both panting, breathing heavy as we skid to a stop at the airline desk.

“I-I need to check in for a flight to New York?” Lis is digging through her purse for her passport spilling bits and things onto the desk and floor. “Um—sorry, I know it’s here. Aidan? Where did I put my—oh God, here it is. Sorry.”

“Well. You are cutting it close, then. Checking any baggage with us today?” The attendant is obviously put out by our tardiness.

“No. I just have a carry-on.”

“Gate 414. Security is to your left. You’ll want to hurry.”

This is the part I’ve been dreading. The line through security is short, almost nonexistent.

I want to beg her to stay. And I absolutely can’t. Instead, I walk with her as far as I can, clinging to her hand, spinning my ring around her finger.

When I’ve gone as far as I can, I turn her so that she’s facing me, mere inches between us.

I’m stalling.

Time is running out, and all the things I couldn’t find the words for earlier, are fighting their way to the surface. I open my mouth and close it again. There’s too much to say and not nearly enough time.

“You’ll call, yeah, when you land?” I pull the lapels of her jacket together, not wanting to let her go. “When you get back to the flat?”

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