Page 65 of Summer's Echo
Summer’s tears fell, their salty trace mixing with the sweetness of her lips against mine.
“Why are you crying, baby?” I asked, swiping the moisture from her face.
“I don’t know…because I’m happy. Because I missed you. Because it’s you. Because it’s always been you.”
My lips brushed her forehead before kissing down the length of her body. I paid special attention to the swollen chocolate-brown areolas, which I had envisioned in my dreams. Summer’s impassioned murmur lodged in her throat as I continued my perusal. She gasped when my lips breezily brushed against her pulsating clit. The tip of my tongue casually fondled her, savoring the plump folds of her pretty pussy. My blunt fingertips regained entry as I mercilessly feasted on her treasure, guzzling her sweet juices like a deserted man whose thirst desperately needed to be quenched.
“Shit, Summer! You taste better than…shit, everything,” I said, warming places that quickly became reacquainted with my touch.
It didn’t register that Summer wasn’t breathing until I spoke. “Breathe, baby. Breathe,” I said, granting her license to exhale.
“E, please,” she begged as an uninhibited hunger surged, jolting through her body. She rubbed and nibbled and pleaded like she’d been craving this beautiful battering.
I trailed my tongue up the beautiful bumps and smooth layers of her velvety skin. I wanted to take my time surveying her, beholding her, fucking reveringher.My Summer Sun, my best damn friend—the love of my life.
“Summer, I love you,” I said, my eyes were wet with emotions as I kissed her. “I will spend the rest of my days loving you, baby.”
She cradled my face in her palms,holding me like I was something sacred. Something irreplaceable. Coveting me. Loving me.We dallied for a moment, the fifteen years racing in our minds.So much lost time, so many words left unsaid.But none of it mattered now becausewe were always meant to be. Yoked.Bound in ways deeper than flesh. Our bodies moved toward each other withinstinctive trust,free of hesitancy, free of doubt. I let my gazetravel over her, drinking her in,memorizing the way her curves caught the moonlight, the way her breath hitched as I traced a path along her skin. To me, she wasa masterpiece—my Mona Lisa. Timeless. Priceless.
Hypnotized by plump breasts, thick thighs, and the irresistible heat of her center, I groaned because I could no longer resist the unyielding desire to sink every inch of me into her ocean. Upon immediate entry, we zealously uttered, “Damn.”
My strokes were unhurried and languid. I wanted to explore her, searching the deepest depths of her perfection. In and out, and back and forth, we entwined in the most delightful coupling. Tenderly, yet eagerly, I tossed her legs over both my shoulders, biting against her inner thighs, plummeting deeper, harder, faster.
“Aah!Oh my God. E. E,” Summer moaned, unable to fully catch her breath.
“Summer Sierra Knight! Shit. You feel amazing.” Calling her by her government name? I meant that shit.I could feel her begin to shudder against my skin. She was there, and I was ready to guide her through this climax.
“Let it go, baby. I know you want to,” I teased, drawing my dick out to the tip before slowly easing back in. “You’re safe with me, beautiful. You ready to come for me, Sunshine?”
“Aaahh!”she said. “Echo.Mm-hmm.Yes. Yes.”
“Mm-hmm. That’s it. That’s my girl.” I groaned, feeling my dick stiffen, on the brink of an explosion.
She was beautiful in the throes of an intense, spellbinding orgasm. I’d been her best-kept secret for far too long, but with every slow grind, I reminded Summer who the fuck I was. The pleasure and the pain of the moment felt so good and was long overdue. I glanced at her, shifting my weight before resting my head against her breasts. Our bodies melded as if we were one—no recognition of where she began and I ended.
I nestled my face in the folds of her dampened neck. “I love you,” spilled weakly from my mouth.
The room was still and quiet other than our faint, labored breathing until she murmured, “I love you back.”
A satisfied grin spread across my face. Because at last, Iheld the key, the one thatunlocked the intricate, complicated masterpiece known as Summer. The girl who hadtormented and captivated mesince I was seventeen. The woman whohad shaped my every want, my every defined longing. And now that I had it—had her—I wasn’tgiving that shit back.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Summer
March 2020
March in Los Angeles had a way of being effortlessly beautiful. Mornings carried acrisp coolness, only to besoftenedby the warmth of spring by midday. The days stretched longer, bathed in a hazy light that made everything feeljust a little more alive. I blinked, and somehow,three months had passedsince I’d arrived in LA, and I was loving every minute of it. Maybe it was the city’seasygoing yet electric energy. Or maybe it was the neighborhood—a perfect mix of city convenience and quiet, suburban charm. Or maybe,it was simplyhim.We’d certainly made up for lost time with weekly dates in the city, long walks in the park, Food Truck Fridays where we sampled everything in sight, and endless coastal drives for weekend getaways.Whatever this was between us,I loved it.There wasno rush to define things, no pressure to put a label on it.Just the quiet understanding thatI was his, and he was mine.
We never had to say it.Our actions said it for us.I moved forward withleasing my townhouse back in St. Louis, slowly shifting more of my life to California.Echo had even renovated the third bedroom into an office just for me,pulling me deeper into his world in ways neither of us could put into words.I let my gaze drift across the bedroom, landing onEcho, still fast asleep.A rare sight.It was Saturday morning, and for once, he actually planned to sleep in, which, for him, meantwaking up at nine-thirty instead of six.That was one place where we werewildly different.He thrived in the early mornings;I wasn’t my best self until well after ten.But this morning,sleep had escaped me, replaced by a craving forcoffee and a warm pastry from the local bakery.
Instead of waking him, I sent a quick text, letting him know I was taking a walk. I slipped into ababy blue jogger set, laced up my sneakers, and tossed on a hat. Echo’s neighborhood wasthriving, an up-and-coming communityfilled with middle-aged professionals and growing families.Tree-lined streets wove between modern townhomes and sleek condos. Stepping onto the patio, I smiled and waved atjoggers, dog walkers, and parents pushing strollers. Thefifteen-minute walk to Main Streetwas exactly what I needed toclear my head. And let’s be real, thecaramel latte and apple fritterwere calling my name. In the short time I’d been here, I’d already foundmy rhythm—the barista, Callie, who had perfected my order; the friendly woman who managed the small farmers market; and the corner store that always stocked my favorite snacks. I’d sometimes forget thatthe electric pulse of the city was just minutes away until nightfall, when it shimmered in the distance.
After grabbing some fresh fruit and veggies tojuice later, I made a quick stop at the corner store before picking up my coffee order. An hour later, I walked back into the house, and likeclockwork, Echo was up, lounging on the couch in nothing but his boxers, watching predictions for the day’s college basketball games.
“Hey, bae,”I greeted.
“Good morning, Sunshine,”he said, tilting his head back on the couch to look at me.
