Page 79 of One Short Summer

She’s given herself entirely over to me, something I never thought would mean this much, making the ache in my chest intensify. “Monica, look at me.”

Her eyelids pull open slowly, her shiny green eyes dark like a forest during a rainstorm, and I’m ready to get lost in them. All night, if she’ll let me.

The urge to leave my mark on her somehow, so she’s unable to ever forget me, gets stronger with every second that ticks by.

The immediacy of the situation hits me once again in the chest, like a sledgehammer. The force of it so strong, I’m moments away from faltering under it.

Her dreamlike gaze locks with mine before roaming all over my face, centering me. My eyes zoom in on her tongue when it darts out of her mouth to lick those pink lips I’ve become slightly obsessed with.

The corners of her mouth go up into a lazy grin as she focuses back on me. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I can’t hold back the quiet chuckle because this moment is a perfect depiction of how Monica and I are.

The tension between us is thick and filled with pleasurable promise, but at the same time, we can have odd and funny moments, just like in our everyday life. I like that about us because, to me, that means we stay true to ourselves, no matter what situation we’re in.

And I’ve learned over the years that’s not necessarily a given with most people.

“Why did you stop?” A little frown forms between her eyebrows. “Second thoughts?”

“What? Goodness, no. With you—never.” I shake my head, like she just said the craziest thing I’ve ever heard—which she kind of did. I would never not have her, unless she didn’t want me, of course, but that goes without saying. “If you want this as much as I do, there’s absolutely nothing that can keep it from happening. Do you hear me?Nothing.”

I’m probably making this worse for myself—the feelings for her so fully immersed into my whole being, they might never let me go again—but it’s too late to change course now.

I’m hers, even if she doesn’t know it.

I might as well enjoy every ounce of ecstasy I can have with this beautiful woman. And then I can—and probably will—drown in those memories.

“Are you kidding me? You know how much I love being with you like this. I don’t ever want you to stop.” I raise an eyebrow, and she continues, “Well, you know what I mean. Of course, we’d have to stop to eat and drink and all that, and let’s not forget we have airplanes to catch, and places to be, but—”

“Monica.” I take her hand and pull her close to me again.

“Hmm?” She looks up at me with those trusting eyes, and my fingers ache to touch her everywhere, to explore every single inch of her body like it’s truly the last time.

Pushing the sadness threatening to overcome me way down, I put on a smile and try my hardest to focus on enjoying the hell out of this night with her. No need to ruin it right now. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She turns around and walks toward the staircase, her steps determined and fast, while she pulls me after her with a surprising strength that makes me chuckle. Stopping in the middle of the stairs, she turns back to me. “What? Is something funny?”

“I just love your eagerness, that’s all.” Letting go of her hand, I walk up to the step below her, almost putting us at the same height. Leaning into her, I press my hard body against hers, my mouth grazing her ear. “Now get that sexy ass of yours into my bed because I don’t want to waste another second with you.”

She pulls back to shoot me a look, her eyes wider than usual.

I give her butt a little squeeze. “Please?”

Monica wastes no time, spinning around to make her way up the rest of the stairs and straight into my bedroom as fast as she can without actually running.

Of course, I’m right behind her, snatching her up the second she spins around to face me. This time, she stands right in front of my king-sized bed, right where I want and need her.

My hands brush through her hair, gently untangling her strands before settling at the nape of her neck. Tipping back her head, I expose her neck to me, tracing it with the tip of my tongue. A moan escapes her, and I have to admit, it’s especially thrilling to not only hear it but to also feel it right underneath my touch.

“Please don’t make me beg.” Her voice sounds strangled as her head turns to the side, her mouth desperately catching mine in a frantic kiss. Monica’s hands wind through my hair as she presses her body closer, her breasts flattening against my chest.

I can feel her hardened nipples through our clothes, knowing I can’t deny either one of us much longer what we both so obviously want and need. Without breaking our kiss, I make my way slowly down her shoulders and her back before I finally find the zipper. Despite my shaky hands, I’m able to open it without any issues.

Thank goodness.

Otherwise, I might have ripped it apart.

Monica makes quick work of my clothes too, her movements determined and a little frenzied.

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