Page 70 of Someday Not Soon

Slamming me into the muscle of his chest, his hand runs up my back and into my hair, bunching the strands into his fingers. As he pulls back, both of us stare at each other with watery smiles. Leaning down, he kisses me, as we pour all our feelings into that single moment. His lips move against mine with a relieved eagerness.

Pulling back, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re here. But I really hope you didn’t quit your job because I already did…through an email.” I grimace, not proud of quitting like a major asshole, but he laughs, and high-fives me, looking at me like he’s never been more proud.

“I hadn’t quit yet. I was going to fly back after the weekend and put in my two weeks.”

“Obviously, you’re a much better employee than me for not quitting on a whim.”

“You know, I hope you’re proud of yourself, for going for what you want. Because I know I’m insanely proud.”

“I’m getting there,” I reply. “And thank goodness, you’re here so I’ve got some muscle to help me move now.”

“For you, I’ll move a thousand boxes.”

I give him a devilish smile. “You might just get lucky for that later.”

As he grins, his eyes lingers on the necklace aroundmy neck—the one I swore over the last decade that I’d never wear again. While packing up my old jewelry box tonight I found it tucked away in one of the compartments. Now it’s back where it belongs.

His thumb reaches out, gently tracing the delicate ocean waves that rest right beneath my collarbone. “You kept it?”

“It felt wrong getting rid of it. I never could let it go.” My hand drifts to the cool metal. “I think maybe, because in the back of my head I knew—I knew it has always been you.”

His hands curl into my hair and lift my face, his thumb caressing my cheekbone. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

A smile spreads across my face. Those words I had dreamt of for months and years, not feeling real when they’re said aloud. “I love you, too, Jude. A lot.”

We stare at each other, smiling like a couple of fools in a messy apartment. Soaking in those words and this feeling that we’ve waited far too long to say and hear. It feels like we’re finally landing after a long journey.

When his mouth lands on mine, he exhales a sigh of relief. Our touches grow greedier, the distance of nearly five days feeling like so much more.

Suddenly, his tongue is in my mouth, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip. He moves his head down, lips kissing a trail down my neck, claiming me, mouth brushing against my collarbone. I feel him press into my stomach, thick and hard and desperate.

His hands plunge under my shirt, trying to feel everysquare inch of my skin, one hand splaying wide across my back, coasting up and down like he can’t get enough, while his other thumb brushes across the sensitive skin of my nipple. I make a grab for his dick that’s pressed against my abdomen. When I touch him, he groans into my mouth, and I devour it like I could never get enough. When I give, he takes, and when he gives, I take. It’s a back and forth, so natural and effortless that my brain shuts off.

All I have the ability to concentrate on is the way he carries me to the kitchen counter, brushing off the top with a swipe of his arm. Rolls of tape, keys, and papers go flying as he sets me down, undoing his zipper with one hand as he stares at me like a man that’s on a very specific mission. Shoving my shorts down, he thrusts into me in one fell swoop, bottoming out, as our heads both fall back.

“How do you always feel so fucking perfect?” he rasps.

I’m beyond words, reduced to nothing but a raw unguarded version of myself as he drives into me. My hands brace against the cheap laminate counters, my knuckles white from the effort. His eyes stay fixed on me like I’m the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

His hands grip my waist, lifting me on and off the counter with ease, before flipping me over to standing and pressing my chest flat against the cool surface. My breath catches as he wraps my hair around his fist, pulling it just enough to arch my back, exposing my throat to his lips. He leans in, his mouth searing against my skin as he positions me exactly where he wants me.

When he thrusts into me again, I can’t stifle the moanthat rips from my throat. Every inch of me is filled with him as he relentlessly takes me.

“Jude…” His hand comes down on my ass with a sharp smack, the sting electrifying every inch of me. “Oh my god,” I cry out, so close to coming undone. “Yes, just like that. Don’t stop.”

His hand slides down, rubbing circles into my clit with the perfect pressure. “You’re so damn beautiful when you take my cock like this.”

Those words, the unhinged shake in his voice, are all I need. My body tightens, and I shatter, feeling so full, so utterly content that I can’t hold back anymore. He thrusts deep inside me, his pace frantic, and with a groan, he lets go, the two of us tumbling over the edge together. His body collapses on top of mine, both of us breathless and completely spent, emotionally and physically.

Somewhere in the pant of his breath, I hear him say he loves me. And it dawns on me that sometimes it’s worth the struggle, and worth the wait, to end up exactly where you are. Because the thing about where I currently am is that it feels right. Like every mistake, every regret, every missed chance somehow led me here, to this moment with him, with these versions of ourselves. And maybe that’s how it was always meant to be.

He helps me pack up the rest of my apartment until the sun begins to appear over the shadowy outline of the mountainscape outside my window. The half of the boxesthat I packed are haphazardly thrown together, while his are neatly organized. Throughout the process, we catch each other’s eye, exchanging sly looks like we both know this is finally the beginning of what we’ve always wanted.

When the last box is packed and taped, we collapse onto my bed together. A tired heap of limbs, tangled in the blankets as we doze off.

There’s no longer a countdown, or that heavy drop in my stomach, when I think of it ending. Being here, with him, isn’t on any more deadlines. I get to do this every day, for hopefully the rest of my life. I get to feel the thump of his heart, and the rumble of his laugh through his chest. I get to soak in the way he kisses my head every evening, telling me this is all he’s ever wanted. I get to feel the inhale and exhale as he falls into a deep sleep, completely happy holding me like this.

“You ready for today?” he asks, an arm thrown over his eyes shielding the sunlight from his face.

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