Page 77 of Last Summer

He gently touches her face, gliding his thumb along her lower lip.

“How long have you been awake?” she asks.

“Not long.”

“What time is it?”

“Two a.m., I think.”

He trails his hand lower, his fingertips lightly dancing along the curve of her neck, the neckline of her shirt. He stops at the top button and their eyes meet, his questioning. His lips part.

“Yes,” she whispers before he can ask. She wants this. She wants him.

He leans into her and tenderly, gently, presses his lips to hers. That’s all it takes, that one light touch to ignite what’s been simmering between them, what’s always been there.

They shed their clothes, fumbling with zippers and buttons, kissing, touching, and discovering. When he presses Ella to her back and settles between her legs, she expects him to plunge into her and drive them to the edge with the same ferocity she witnessed him display in his episodes. But as he’s done since she arrived at his house earlier in the week, he surprises her. He takes his time. Savors her. Worships the curves and planes of her body, pushing her higher until she peaks.

Before she can catch her breath, Nathan’s forearms frame her head as he supports his weight. He grasps her hands, threading his fingers with hers. “You okay?”

“Very.”

They share a smile and then Nathan eases into her, all the way, and stills. Ella releases a steady moan.God, he feels so good.

But she needs more.

She squeezes his hands and, planting her feet on the mattress, attempts to raise her hips. He doesn’t budge.

“Move,” she grunts. She needs pressure. There. She aches.

Nathan rocks into her. He moves with purpose, searching for a connection. And Ella’s right there with him.

Aurous light highlights the rigid angles of his face, heightens the blue in his eyes, which hold on to hers.

“I wish you remembered us.” Spoken against her lips.

So does Ella.

She looks inward, hoping, praying, this might be what it takes to lift the veil in her mind. But she doesn’t remember. Being with him in this way isn’t familiar. Just different. So different from Damien. Nathan’s broader, heavier. His scent sharper, provocative and arousing.

“El.”

Her name is a breath of air and she feels a sting behind her eyes.

Nathan’s making love to her as though they belong together. How could she ever have forgotten what it feels like to be with him? How could she have forgotten him?

Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she gives herself over to her feelings. She gives herself over to him. And soon, they’re crashing, falling. Tumbling into bliss.

Afterward, once they’ve cleaned up and turned off the bathroom light, Nathan curves his body along the back of hers. He holds her hand.

This isn’t good, Ella thinks, because it feels too good.

Sex with Nathan didn’t unblock her memories of him. What it did do, however, was make her question her own feelings. How easily she could fall for him, which only makes her more determined to learn the truth.

What happened between them last summer? Did she leave, or did he send her away?

Ella gives his hand a squeeze. “We have to talk,” she whispers in the darkness.

“I know. Tomorrow.” He nips her shoulder, kisses away the sting, and promptly falls asleep. But when she wakes in the morning, the bed is empty.

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