Page 69 of Loving London

“I just love you,” he says.

“I love you, too.” I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him tight. “You know, if you’re not happy here, we can move anywhere. I’ve built up a pretty great résumé. I’d be able to get a good job almost anywhere.”

“London, will you stop? I’m so happy here. I’d be happy anywhere as long as I was with you. Okay? Remember, I can go anywhere, too. There are veterans all over this country. No matter where we went, I’d be able to find a VA nearby where I could help. If you eventually want to get a job somewhere else, then great. It’s kind of cool that we can go anywhere we want.”

“That is pretty awesome,” I say against his chest.

“It is.” He glances around the room at my paint job again. “You know, this whole independent, get-things-done side of you is incredibly sexy.”

“Oh, yeah?” I gaze into his sea-blue eyes. “More so than my privileged, pay-someone-to-do-it-for-me side? Because that girl still exists.”

“Oh, that side of you is really sexy, too.”

“So, basically, no matter what I do, you’ll find me sexy?”

“Yep.” He nods his head. “I love every single part of you, London Wright.”

My heart is happy. “Me, too. I love every part of you,” I agree.

“You know, we’ve never made love on a paint tarp before.” He quirks up an eyebrow.

“No, we haven’t. Another first?”

“Oh, I think so.” He places his hands on my cheeks and pulls me into a deep kiss.

I adore the way he kisses me with a controlled love that’s on the precipice of abandon.

Our kiss transforms from slow and worshipful to quick and beseeching, taking us to the point where not being together is excruciating.

The connection I share with Loïc when we’re together intimately is something I can’t put into words. It’s pure euphoria. It’s everything and the only thing, all at once. It’s how I know we’re meant for one another. There could never be anything more right.

Our clothes are tossed haphazardly around the room. Loïc’s fingers grasp mine as he holds my arms over my head. My back slides against the tarp-covered floor as Loïc moves inside me. His eyes never leave mine as we make love.

“You sure you’re up to this?” I ask Loïc as we drop our surfboards in the sand near the water’s edge.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry; the leg’s waterproof.”

“I know. It’s just that I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” I say, worried.

Loïc laughs. “I know what it’s like to be hurt, London. This is nothing. The waves are tiny today. It’s a great day for me to practice.”

“How do you know you’ll be able to do it with your new leg?”

“Surfing is ninety percent core-muscle strength. I’m good,” he says with an air of cockiness. He grabs my hand and runs it across his six-pack, evidence of his daily workouts.

“Yes, you’re hot. Stop bragging.” I playfully roll my eyes.

“We could have another first.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Sex in the ocean.” He presses his lips together, and man, how I want to lean in and kiss them.

“Heck no,” I say. “We’ve done it in a lake. That’s going to have to do. I’m not sure all the salt in the ocean would feel pleasant.” I crinkle my face up in faux pain.

“Okay.” He laughs. “Have you done this since your first time with me?”

“A couple of times with Georgia,” I admit.

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