Page 104 of Summertime Friends

“Yes,” she says. If only she truly meant it. It doesn’t matter how much I love her if she doesn’t let me love her.

Her hands find the buttons of my shirt. She slowly starts to undo them. I push up off her, rising to my knees that are straddling her hips. I finish taking off my shirt for her before reaching for her tank top and pulling it up her arms. The built-in sports bra was a pleasant surprise, leaving her breasts bare and nipples erect.

I lean down, placing a kiss between her breasts, then moving to her right breast, sucking the nipple into my mouth. Twisting and pulling it between my teeth, Emerson’s back arches, her breast pushed further into me. With a gentle bite, I release her nipple and trail kisses down her stomach, stopping right above the waistband of her iron blue spandex shorts.

Damn, these things are tight. How do women wear these all day? Does the suction not drive them mad? I barely enjoy my balls being trapped in suit pants for too long, especially when I’m pushing against the fabric.

She lifts her hips to help me slip them off her. Emerson’s hands come to my waist. A leg wraps around me, and she flips us so that I’m now underneath her. Emerson’s hair falls to my face, tickling me.

“How am I losing you?” I ask as I look up at her, a broken smile forms on my face.

“You aren’t.” Her hands undo my belt and then the button of my pants. I hear the sound of the zipper, and all I can think about is how that’s what it’ll sound like when she leaves—us zipping apart, cleaved back into our worlds where we don’t exist together.

When she has me bare beneath her, between her legs, she lays on top of me, meeting my lips.

“I am,” I heartbreakingly confess.

She shuts me up with a kiss. Followed by a series of them down my chest and abs till her plush lips are around my tip. She uses her tongue, making slow, taunting circles around it. The sensation is too good. Too fucking good. My head digs into the floor, my chin jutting upward with a groan.

With a quick surge of euphoria, I touch the back of her throat. Emerson’s movements are deliberate from bottom to top, pulling up enough that I’m almost out of her before her warm mouth is right back down.

I work my hand into her hair, gripping the back of her head. I pull and push in rhythm with her. There is no need to control or change; she knows exactly how to make me come undone.

My other hand joins in hers. She brings it out to the side.

“Emerson,” I groan.

That encourages her to keep going—faster, tighter. She’s too good at this. Then she slows down, pulling her head upward until almost none of me is in her mouth, only the tip. She flicks her eyes at me, looking at me, knowing what she’s doing to me. I’m not going to last.

“Emerson. I’m going to—” I can feel her smile around me. The sensation ignites my entire body and brings me dangerously close to finishing. “If this is the last time I get to have you, I want to be inside of you.”

She releases me, moving on top of me and then guiding me inside of her.

She sighs, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body stretches to fit me. Emerson starts to move. It’s not fast. It’s fluid.It’s not feral. It’s tender. Sex can be and mean a lot of things, but this, it’s an I love you. . . and an apology.

Emerson repositions herself, angling her body just right, causing her head to be thrown back, panting. And if I wasn’t as obsessed and in tune with her, I could have missed the quietest whimper of my name coming out of her mouth.

I let her keep at it for another minute before I pull her down and kiss her. I need more of her body on me. I need more connection. I couldn’t last another second without feeling the weight of her on me.

“I love you,” I whisper to her.

“I love you,” I repeat it like it’s bait, fishing inside of her for the feelings I know she feels, wanting to reel them to the surface so she can feel them.

Even if it’s not me, I want it so damn bad to be me. To be the one that finally gets her to stop believing she’ll never be enough. Because she is. She’ll always be enough for me.

I grab her ass and pick up our momentum.

“Liam,” she moans—this time, not a whisper. It’s loud enough that I hope someone on the street outside can hear her—can hear precisely who she belongs to—who I belong to.

“More. I need more,” she says.

Faster and harder—our movements, our pants. I’m barely breathing in between our kisses and the inferno that’s burning between us. We could set the world on fire.

Her body clinches around me tighter, and I know she’s close. I’m right behind her. “I’m close,” she tells me.

My fingers are rubbing her between them, adding pressure that pushes her into that last level of pleasure with a cry. Her body lying on top of mine, movements slowing.

Nursing it out of her, I keep going. I feel her tightening around me again, and this time it’s the both of us releasing together.

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