Page 164 of Butterfly Effect

Wade’s teeth chatter, his fingers dimpling the flesh of my ass. “Because you feel like Heaven.” He urges my hips forward. “Don’t stop.”

I don’t.

Our hands shift, winding together once more. I press them against the pillow, our chests flush. It’s a stark contrast to last fall when I wanted distance and numbness. Now, I want to feel everything, too.

Heavy-lidded eyes stare back. I want him to know.

“You’re beautiful.”

His upper lip curls. He’s surprised.

“What? Has no one told you that?”

Wade denies it. A drumming pulse runs between our palms, the heated skin slippery. The caresses across his abs seem to take effect. His hips stutter below mine. I gasp again and fall forward.

“You’re beautiful,” I repeat, drawing the words against his full lips, “So, so beautiful.”

My mouth takes his, tasting his moans and swallowing every one, keeping it for myself.

The rhythm of my thrusts picks up, a crescendo into a gallop, the room all humid breaths and salty sweat. “Gabe, fuck—fuck, Gabe,” Wade prays my name. “Oh, my fucking—Gabe?—”

Pleasure cracks, then shatters through us, with a collective, leaden cry, hot spurts of his release filling me until it spills out. I quiver through the blistering high.

The ringing in my ears peters out, switching to Wade’s quick, steady heartbeat and panting breaths. I wait a few minutes before dismounting from his softened cock, rolling us until we’re a tangle of limbs.

A sniffle sounds out, rousing me from near-sleep.

Wade Boehner has tears in his eyes.

“Wade?”

“I’ll be right back,” he answers, removing himself from my hold and slinking off the mattress. He retrieves a pair of shorts from a drawer and skitters out the bedroom door while tugging them on.

What the fuck happened?

I burrito myself in the wayward sheets, wrapping and tucking it under my armpits before scuffling out to the living room.

He sits bent over on the couch, hands on his lowered head. I join him with a graceless plop, draping my arm around his shoulders.

“Wade, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yep. Yeah,” he answers with a series of nods, scrubbing his face.

“Because it doesn’t seem like?—”

“You know what?” A swift launch has him off the couch and facing me, agony wrinkling his face. “No, I’m not okay!”

I gulp.

“I’m fucking losing mymind, Gabe. All I see is you. First thing in the morning and right before I sleep.” His hands bury in his hair, tearing at the roots like a madman. “I look for you in every hotel room, every arena, every airplane and bus…” They release and extend toward me, pleading. “You’re who my heart wants.You. All of you.” He keeps ranting as I stand. “You, you, you, you, you. You live in my brain, and I don’t want you to leave. And I feel insane for dreaming up a future for us and wanting things you don’t, like I want to kick my own face in because I. Can’t. Have. You.”

“Wade,” I say gently. “You have me.”

Genuine shock wracks through him. “What about…?”

“What about what? I love you.”

His body goes lax at the admission, legs giving out as his ass hits another section of the couch. The lifted weight has my heart soaring.

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