Page 47 of Midnight and Mine

“God put me on this earth to hold you up.”

I push off the Adirondack chair, and he eases me into his arms. The song is slow and right now just instrumental. Fire flickers in his eyes while sparks ignite in my core as he presses our bodies flush against each other. The ridge of his manhood grows against my stomach.

Major’s voice is like crushed velvet—smooth with the perfect amount of crackling as he sings,Forever After All, by Luke Combs. As Scott and I dance, there’s a cautious hope in his eyes. My eyes meet his, understanding the delicate balance of remembering and letting things unfold naturally. In my opinion, this is exactly the way a new relationship would progress.

The song taunts me as a memory flashes again when I’m on the beach in a white dress. Was this song playing?

But Scott distracts me when his fingers skate up my spine until he cups my face in his hands and whispers, “Stay the night.” Sweeping his thumb between my lips, I close my mouth around his thumb and gently suck.

We sway, not truly dancing because of my leg, then he kisses me. Neither of us realize his brother is no longer singing, or that everyone has left. I guess they wanted us to have a night alone. “I’ll stay. You can’t drive since you’ve been drinking.”

“I want you to stay because you want to. I can get your dad to pick you up if you want to go to your parents’ house.”

I peer into his eyes, dilated and dark so all that I can see is the fire in his eyes. And I feel the ache in my core. “I want to stay here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

I don’t get a chanceto answer before our lips crash together. Desire takes over. He picks me up, never breaking our kiss, and manages to get us into the sunporch. Lying me on the couch, I look out the windows at the beautiful red and orange fire, romantically brightening the night.

He pushes my sundress above my baby bump as he kisses each rounded inch, then anchors me with his arm as he pulls the sundress over my head. Then suddenly, I can’t go slow. I rip his shirt over his head and throw it on the floor. Scott’s body is one to be admired—the way his abs and oblique muscles contour to form shadows.

Kissing my neck, he skims my collarbone with his fingers. I suck on his neck, grazing his sensitive skin with my teeth as he drops my bra straps onto my shoulders and with one hand, pops the clasp on the back. “Smooth, Mr. Wilson,” I tease.

“You’ve given me plenty of practice.”

I wish I could remember our practice sessions, but I want to be lost in the moment, not worried about what happened in the past. All I need to know is that Scott and I love each other, and we’re desperate for each other’s bodies.

“Hmmm,” I murmur, feeling the weight of forgotten moments between us and relishing the new moments we’re making. A memory travels at the speed of light of a head between my thighs. Still, I’m unable to see a face, but I’m sure its Scott based on his thick head of dark brown hair. Maybe these intimate moments will bring me one step closer to recovering all my memories. I smile as Scott moves his head to the same spot I’m recalling and presses his palms against my inner thighs.

I close my eyes, completely content with the long, lazy licks up and down my center. Pushing his fingers inside me, he curls them, reaching a sensitive spot that has me shuddering. His fingers don’t plunge in and out; instead, his digits tease me crawling through my muscles.

“Yes,” I murmur. “I may keep you down there for the rest of my life.”

Popping his head up, I only see his eyes appear above my baby bump, so I try to lean up on my elbows.

“If it makes you feel good, I’ll do it every damn day.”

Then his lips wrap around my bundle of nerves and sucks me into his mouth. Pleasure strikes at my core as my legs shake and try to clamp around him. But is Scott satisfied? No. He uses his shoulders to keep my legs spread like an open buffet line at the Golden Corral.

As I shiver, trying to stave off the orgasm, I’m overcome as it hits me with the g-force of a fighter plane taking off. My head slops onto the thrown pillow, and I feel my arousal gushing onto his tongue. Scott licks every drop until I mumble, “God, I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Scott

Pausing between her thighs, her words drift just above my head as she coats my tongue with her sweet and savory juices. I place gentle kisses on each leg, then suck her center one more time before I push to myself to hover over her. I decide to play it like Wynter would have in the old days. With a teasing response, I say, “You just love my tongue.”

The balls of her cheeks round, and the glow of the bonfire sparkles in her eyes. This moment feels monumental, that somehow the undertow that has been threatening to pull us under and apart, releases us.

“Scott,” she says with a disappearing smile, “I might not remember loving you.”

My heart drops.

“But I know I love you. I felt it the first time I opened my eyes in the hospital. I felt it when you brought me a journal, on all our little dates for the past week. And when I dreamed of having sex with you. I don’t want to dream aboutit anymore. I want to feel it in the present.”

“I love you, Wynter Miracle Wilson. There’s only been you.” My voice strains between the cascading emotions of happiness and desire to bury myself balls deep inside my wife. I brush a strand of her dampened hair off her face, taking her mouth to mine. “It’s always been you.”

I pick her up and carry her to our bedroom. We have to angle her through the doorway, so we don’t hit her casted leg. Naked, I lay her on the bed, but she sits up. “I want to undress you.”

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