Page 72 of Broken Hearts

I let out a ragged, soft sob, and Nate’s thumbs catch my tears. We’re a fucking mess, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Nate pulls my body flush against his, holding me close until there’s not an inch of space between us. His face burrows into the crook of my neck, the hot wetness of his tears stinging my skin.

And we just hold each other, the silence of the room taking over, the comfort of our closeness washing over us.

I can feel his hard length between my thighs, his knee now moving between them, opening me up. He wants me, and without words, I understand what he needs.

I slide my underwear off, pushing them to the bottom of the bed with my feet. I reach between us, letting my fingers trail over him, dipping into the front of his boxers.

He’s hard in my hand and my thumb traces over the head of his cock, causing him to let out a gasp.

“I need you, Sage,” he whispers into the quiet stillness of the room, and I shift, pushing his boxers down, letting him slide inside me.

I let out a tiny guttural moan the moment he’s seated fully in me, and my head grows cloudy with desire and want and need. Desperation pools heavy in my stomach, and we fuck slowly, each movement calculated and slow, pushing both of us to chase the feeling of pleasure.

Our bodies move together, our breathing growing labored and ragged, our tears long dried up and replaced with a dying need to be this close to each other, always.

I close my eyes and bask in the feeling of having him inside me, loving the way he fills me, the way his body feels like it was made for mine.

Needing more, I straddle his hips, riding him. His fingers trail over my stomach, pushing my T-shirt up, he exposes my breasts. His hands explore my body, touching every inch of it, and I can’t help but wonder how I could not have wanted this man when I first arrived.

His touch sets my body on fire, and when he dips his fingers between my thighs, his thumb rubbing slow circles against my clit, I come undone, calling out his name.

Thrusting up to meet my hips, I feel him release inside me, his movements less controlled, his need taking over as he comes inside me.

I collapse on top of him, his cock still buried inside me, and smile against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm as it begins to slow.

“Don’t move,” he says, just as I try to shift off of him, and when I push up to take in his face, he’s smiling.

“What? Why?”

“Because right now, this is my favorite place in the whole world.”

My brow goes up, a questioning look on my face as Nate lets out a deep, sexy chuckle, his beautiful eyes shining in the low light of the moon.

“My dick loves to be inside you. What can I say?”

“Oh my god, Nathan Peterson,” I cry out, laughing. “You are too much.”

“What? It’s true.” His hands grab my waist, holding me in place tightly. “You’re not moving. Ever.”

“I’m not sure we can make that work. It’s going to get a little awkward when you have to go to work, and you’re balls deep inside my pussy.”

Now we’re both laughing, and the tears that stream down our cheeks are from pure laughter and happiness. I love that even when our lives are a mess, we can still laugh. He makes me happier than I’ve ever been, and I want to hold onto this feeling, the idea of leaving being pushed to the back of my mind.

We fall silent again, Nate letting out a contented sigh this time when I roll off of him, turning so I’m curled into his side. Nuzzling my nose against his chest, I take in his scent, loving how it can make my memory flash to the first time I met him. And while it wasn’t perfect, things couldn’t be more perfect now.

“Tomorrow Alana and I are supposed to scatter your dad’s ashes,” Nate now says, quietly. “We planned it before…”

“I want you to still do that,” I say, filling the space when he trails off. “It’s important that you and Alana get to say goodbye the way he would have wanted.”

“No, I want you to come with us now.” His words are firm, almost a demand to them. “You need to be there.”

“I will.”

We wake the next morning to the sound of my phone chiming out, and I know it’s my mom. Her flight left early, and there’s not a chance she isn’t going to say goodbye even if it’s not in person.

Nate shuffles closer to me, his arms cocooning me in as I reach for my phone on the nightstand. His eyes fall closed, and I can hear the rhythmic sound of his breathing as he falls back to sleep.

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