Page 37 of Ebbing Tides
She opened her eyes to look into mine, staring straight through to my soul and beyond. The things I felt, the things I wanted to say, while staring at her then, in those seconds … they were the thoughts of an insane man who hadn't been inside a woman in over a decade. That was all it was—logic told me so—and yet I couldn't stop the lunacy from circling my brain.
I love you, I love you, I have loved the idea of you for decades, and knowing you now, I will love you for decades more. Oh my God, oh my fucking God, I love you.
“Max,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed yet again as her lips nudged against mine.
Foolish me thought she was about to admit the same irrational, illogical mantra that wouldn't come to a halt in my tireless mind. I hoped she would as I hoped she wouldn't, and thankfully, she didn't.
“Fuck me,” she demanded in a throaty whisper. “Please fuck me.”
Who was I to deny a demand like that?
I pushed all insanity and committal thoughts aside and did exactly as she’d asked.
I fucked her, and she fucked me back. Our bodies moving in perfect form, as if we'd practiced this dance together for years. And perhaps that was exactly what it was—that we had been fantasizing about each other for so long that our fantasies had now, for all intents and purposes, become a reality we were both already familiar with.
But it didn't feel like fucking. Not when her hands gripped the back of my neck and my fingers tugged her hair free from its entrapment to tangle themselves in that knotted mess of strawberry red and golden blonde. Not when she gasped and sobbed and moaned with every thrust of my hips, not when I answered every single one with a breathless groan.
Her climax came out of nowhere, surprising us both as her fingers dug into my shoulders, biting into my flesh, as she dropped her head against my shoulder with a strangled cry.
“Oh God, oh God,” she chanted on an endless loop, her body pulsing with the strength of a heartbeat around mine.
“Fuck,” I groaned, trying—trying—to hold back my own orgasm, but failing miserably as it built higher, higher, higher until spilling over with explosive force. “Shit. Melanie …fuck.”
My head fell back as a primal groan tore through my throat. Melanie's hands danced across my neck, shoulders, chest with a lazy, sensual touch. I floated back down to earth like a feather gliding on a gentle breeze and rested my chin on the top of her head as I dragged the palm of my hand over my face.
“Holy shit,” I murmured, blinking through a euphoric haze and catching my breath.
Melanie pressed her cheek to my chest and swallowed audibly. “Yeah …”
I didn't want to hurry away, but we both could use something to drink, and she could've used something to wipe away our conjoined mess. Regrettably, I took a step back, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Water?”
She nodded. “That'd be good, yeah,” she said, pressing her thighs together once again and crossing her arms over her chest.
She must’ve been cold. I didn't keep a blanket in the office, but my coat was draped over the back of the computer chair.
I pulled up my jeans and underwear, leaving the fly undone, then grabbed my coat and laid it over her shoulders. “Here.”
Her smile was weak, uncertain. “Thanks.”
She tugged the sides of the coat closed, wrapping it around herself tightly, as I opened the mini fridge to grab two bottles of water. Then, after twisting off the cap, I handed one to her. She accepted the bottle, wearing that same weak smile, then took a shallow sip.
“One sec,” I said before darting into the small bathroom in search of something to use to clean up with. All I found was a roll of paper towels, and I left with it in my hand.
I found her standing, pulling her sweatshirt over her full, glorious chest and soft, beautiful belly. Her pants were already on.
That was fast, I thought as I placed the roll of paper towels onto the counter she'd just sat on.
“I, uh … didn't know if you wanted me to help …” I didn't know what I was saying as I stared at her sheepishly.
Sure, I'd experienced my share of one-night stands and quick romps while deployed. But I guessed I just hadn't expected her to be one of them … but that was exactly what it was starting to look like as she hurriedly twisted her hair back into its sloppy knot at the top of her head.
“I'll take a shower at Charlie's,” she replied, her tone as cold as the snow outside the office door.
“Okay.”
She stuffed her feet into her slippers, and suddenly, I had the urge to laugh.
