Page 43 of The Girl He Loves

And I love that he thinks about my kid.

“He’s deep into Ninja Turtles.” I glance at my watch. “We have about fifteen minutes before they end and he comes looking for more food.”

“Fifteen, got it.”

Dax’s hands go to the waist of my jean shorts. He pauses. “Is this okay? Out here?”

My answer is to undo his jeans and lower the zipper.

“We need a blanket,” he says.

To the side is a shelf where I store a picnic blanket. I point to it, and Dax grabs it and with my help, lays it out on the workbench surface. He lifts me and sets me on the blanket.

We’re fast and to the point, though some might not find it romantic that his pants are down to his knees and mine are on the floor. But his touch is gentle and caring, his kisses are warm and lingering. And when I roll on the condom, we stare into each other’s eyes breathing fast and heavy because one second feels like an eternity and we need be connected now. I feel like the center of the universe as he loves me right over the edge into a blissful release, and I hold on to him with all I have. Never wanting to let go.

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