Page 39 of Back to Me

Finally, she asks, “What about the money? We can’t afford this place without my job.” Her voice is weak and frightened. Understanding where her fear stems from, I think back to where we were when we first met. Both of us shared apartments with multiple roommates, and the places weren’t nearly as nice as our apartment here in downtown Dallas. The cost of living alone is almost double what it was back home.

“Sara, the only thing that matters to me is you,” I say, brushing her blonde hair from her forehead. “It pains me to see you so unhappy. Of course, I didn’t like the way Allison spoke to you. She was talking to you as if you were a child, not a twenty-seven-year-old woman with an art degree. The last thing you need to worry about is money, we’ll be fine.”

Knitting her eyebrows, she asks, “Are you sure?”

I nod once. “Yeah. I’m still selling a few pieces here and there, and I have some money set aside in my savings. Honestly, this may be a sign.”

“What do you mean a sign?”

“We have our exhibit coming up, and your job has been taking up so much of your schedule, you’ve hardly had any free time to work on our paintings. This exhibit is opening so many opportunities for us. I mean, think about it. Your name will be on display at the Dallas Museum of Art. That alone in itself is more exposure than Allison has ever given you.”

“I guess you’re right,” she nods, closing her eyes. “But I think I’ll think about it a little more.”

Grinning, I lean down pressing my warm lips against her forehead.

“Definitely think about it. But can I make just one other point?”

A giggle erupts from her chest. “Like what?”

Smirking, I say, “If you quit, you’ll be stuck here in this apartment with me all day.”

Her red lips spread out into a wide grin. “Being stuck with you wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.” Pausing in thought, her eyes narrow. “Wait a minute. Don’t we have something to finish from earlier?”

“Do you mean one of our paintings?” Leaning my head back, I look up at the ceiling, trying to pretend I don’t know what’s she’s talking about.

Her hand slaps my chest, and I bend over her, laughing.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

My laughter subsides, and I straighten my face, hoping I’m showing her how serious I am. When it comes to being close to Sara, I take it very seriously. I’ve spent too many years chasing after her, and now that I have her, I can’t let her go. I won’t let her go. Her eyes bore into mine, and I lightly trail my finger across her chest. My index finger ghosts the hollow of her neck, slowly dragging it between her breasts. She shivers as tiny bumps form along her smooth, tan skin.

Sliding myself out from underneath her, I bend my knees on the couch, parting her legs and hover over her. The flickering white and blue lights from the TV cast shadows along her body, and I’m instantly hard for her again. Her face goes dark, then as the colors transition, her face glows.

Leaning back up, I slide my hands up and down her slender thighs. Starting with her knees, my hands glide against her smooth skin, and she shivers beneath me. My hands greet the edge of her dress, and I slide the fabric up, revealing her lace thong. Wrapping my fingers around her thong, I gently slide it down her legs.

After removing her dress, she lays back down onto the couch, watching me with her passion-fueled, emerald eyes.

Slowly, I unbutton my shirt, the cool air in the room breathing against my skin. Without breaking my eyes from her, I toss my shirt onto the floor. With my knees still bent and pressing into the cushion of the couch, I move my hands to the button of my jeans. Unsnapping them, I push them down along with my boxer briefs, freeing myself from the constricting fabric.

When I’ve removed all my clothes, I bend down, pressing my hands on either side of Sara’s head, flexing my arms. My face is within inches of hers, and I fight back the urge to kiss her. I want to taste her skin, taste her desire for me. Turning her head to the side, she kisses the inside of my forearm, pressing her lips against the hard muscle flexed beneath my skin. A chill runs along my spine the moment her lips meet my warm flesh.

I kiss her jaw, and she leans her head back in response, allowing me more access. Trailing a path along her neck, I stop momentarily on her breasts and drag my tongue across her nipple. Gasping, she arches her back, clawing at the cushions beside her. Her flesh fills my mouth, my teeth digging into the softness of her breast. Her hands reach out, gripping the ends of my hair, causing every nerve to stand on edge. I kiss every inch of her skin, my mouth dancing along her ribs, her stomach, her hips. Placing my lips against her inner thighs, her legs tense, closing the gap between my head and the opening of her legs.

“Graham, please,” she moans.

My name spilling from her red lips is all it takes for me to bring my mouth to her sensitive area. Sliding my tongue along her skin, I taste her sweetness. Lifting her hips as I continue to move my tongue in circles, my fingertips grip her sides, keeping her from moving too far from me.

Her fingers course through the strands of my hair, tugging on the ends with each circle I continue to make with my mouth.

“Fuck… Graham, please,” she breathes out.

Stopping my movements, I kiss her on her sensitive spot and grin against her flesh, not wanting her to be finished quite yet.

Crawling my way back up to her, I press my still wet lips to her mouth. Her breaths are hot and heavy, and her body shifts beneath me, desperately wanting me to return to her. Quick breaths pass between her lips, her body shaking beneath me. I place my finger against them.

“Sssh. Don’t worry, I’m not finished with you yet.”

Gripping the arm of the couch above her head, I pull back and quickly thrust myself inside her. Tilting her head back, she gasps. I pull back out and push back in, filling her completely.

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