Page 84 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

“I thought I would never see you again.” My arms lock around his neck, my cheek to his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything, just squeezes me tighter. I can feel his shaking breaths in the crook of my neck, and I know it’ll hit us hard for days and weeks to come. We’ll take turns.

“Let's get you cleaned up and into something cozy. Damn it.” Kev pulls back and looks really annoyed with himself. “We need to get you fuzzy jammies and slippers. A bathrobe. All the girl things. I mean—unless you don’t want them.”

It’s my turn to squeeze him tight. I love that he knows how powerful I am, what I can survive—whatI am—and he still wants to wrap me up and keep me safe. Make my world softer.

It only makes me want himharder—in both senses of the word.

“I want everything you offer. And I like to give, too.” I slide down to my knees, skin soaking up water. I’m glowing against him, radiance restored by my dip in the Hudson and now this. But I’m painfully hungry now that I’m safe and alert. My mouth latches onto Kev’s cock and my tongue twirls around him, savoring what I thought I would never taste again.

His hips pump forward, and my head bobs with him, a sensuous push and pull that builds up speed. “I want to be in you,” he hisses.

But I’m selfish. I want his cum in my mouth, and my fingers are busy between my thighs, aching for comfort and release as I slip them inside. I look up at him with wide, pleading eyes and fluttering lashes.

He can’t resist. With the suction I provide and the way my tongue maneuvers, he’s coming in minutes, notes of dark chocolate or coffee swirling with the peanut butter mousse taste I associate with him.

“You spoil me.” Kev pulls me up.

“I want to spoil you more—but after we sleep.”

“Sure, baby. I’m not in any hurry.” Kev squirts shampoo into his hand and starts kneading it into my scalp.

I purr and arch back against him, moaning when his other hand slides between my legs and starts working my clit. “No rush,” I agree.

I come hard, thighs shaking as he whispers in my ear, “I have you for the rest of my life—and after.”

Epilogue

Things fall into a pattern as October stretches on, getting colder and more festive each night. There’s Pumpkin Fest, bonfires in the park, and parties at White Pines. My parents come up sometimes, and every time, Marina runs to my mom with her arms open, squealing like a kid getting picked up from school early to go to Disneyland.

The rusty box in the bathroom disappears and is replaced by a red velvet box that holds a shiny white gold ring—for me, from my soulmate.

I think life is pretty damn perfect—especially once Marina gets the job at the gym and starts teaching the kiddie classes and senior swim aerobics. My favorite part is when she takes a closing shift at the pool, and I meet her after work.

No one ever seems to use the new sauna but us, and I’m okay with that.

Tonight, October 29th, the rest of the town is busy like it’s Christmas Eve. Halloween is a big deal in this place, so I get it. I also like that the gym is deserted as I hit the water and swim over to the goddess in the little white bikini that seems to be made of thread and lust.

“Is that new?” I ask. I also wonder if every man over sixty has suddenly developed a taste for water aerobics.

“Bought with my first paycheck. And I got your mom a bunch of candles from Madge’s, too. Do you think your dad would like tickets to a Lumberjacks’ game? And what would you like to dothis weekend? There’s the ball at White Pines, of course, but I could take you to dinner and a movie?”

“Baby, you don’t have to spoil us.”

“I have never had a family like this. One that I... That I belong to and want to belong to at the same time. It’s amazing. Your mother is an angel.” Marina smiles sweetly, but then her lips lift and I can see the way her pearly whites glisten—all edges.

Don’t argue with the woman you love. Especially not when her mouth contains a set of chef’s knives. She could make you into sushi—but she doesn’t want to.

I don’t argue. I just fall more in love. I swirl her in the water, weightless and laughing, dipping her long flexible spine back while her hair floats free in the water, brown and red highlights dancing. “Fine. I won’t argue. I kinda love hearing you and Mom talk about the Thanksgiving menu every time I turn around.”

Marina blanches for a second. “She is letting me bake a cake. My love, I don’t think I have ever made a cake!”

“We’ll practice. And uh... speaking of cakes and dates and families...” I suddenly surge forward and catch my wet goddess, pushing her to the wall and snuggling her against my chest. “How do you feel about May 31st?”

Marina’s brows lower as she snatches a kiss. “I think... it’s usually not too hot then?”

“What do you think about it for a wedding?”

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