Page 65 of The Boyfriend Boycott
“You’re too good,” she whispers. Something in my chest cracks when she says it. “You’re too good for me.”
“I will spend every waking minute of every day being too goodtoyou, Spencer. I could never be too goodforyou.” Her lips meet mine, and she moans softly into my mouth. Our mouths, our hands, become frantic, desperate to feel more of each other.
She flicks her hips up and back, and I lose myself in the sensation of her, coming closer and closer to my edge. My hands find her neck and I brush my fingers upwards, tangling them in her hair.Spencer moans again, more guttural this time, and it is my unleashing. I grip her hips once again, lifting her off me and out of the water with ease. I shift us both so I can lay her down on the smooth stone forming the edge of the basin, and I hover over her, finding my footing in the warm shallow pool.
The cool air on her wet skin causes goosebumps to spread down her arms, and I find her hand with mine, picking it up to kiss it as I drive myself into her. I twine my fingers through hers, never breaking eye contact as I thrust into her until I’m buried to the hilt. Spencer moans, finding the rock with her other free hand and gripping until her fingertips turn white. She stabilizes herself while I pump into her deeper, harder.
“Fuck, Grady,” she cries, her moans becoming raspier and more desperate with every stroke of my cock inside of her.
“That’s it,” I praise her, and she answers me back with a cry of pleasure. “Feel me, feel how good we are together.”
Her walls clench around me, her expression twisting, mouth open in a silent scream.
“Come on, Rebel. Let me see that gorgeous pussy come all over my cock. You’re so beautiful when you come.”
She sucks in a breath between her teeth and then releases it with a scream that sounds like my name. I keep thrusting, keeping my rhythm steady as her body shudders.
“Let’s see if you’ve got one more for me.” When her body slackens slightly, I change my pace, slower, and bring my thumb to her clit, stroking softly up and down.
I watch her pleasure build again. This is all I want. All I need. To give and give and serve her. She finds another release, this time longer, more drawn out, less explosive. When she finally comes again, I let my seed pump into her. My body falls forward, and I bow over her in worship.
Her hands cradle my face and she kisses me, our bodies still fused together.
When we finally untangle ourselves from each other, she sits up at the edge of the pool and slips into the water, allowing her body to float, weightless. I watch her from the side, her breasts and pebbled nipples rising above the surface of the calm water.
Her eyes are closed, and her features are still. Peaceful. Birds chirp overhead, the leaves rustling with the cool evening breeze. I know Spencer can’t hear any of it, her head half submerged, the world a fuzzy and distant place.
I let her live in that quiet tranquil space for as long as she needs.
Finally, she opens her eyes and stares up at the canopy of branches, the clouds gathering behind them.
“This is exactly what I needed,” she says, her voice soft as she speaks for the first time in several minutes.
“Good.”
“It’s hard to be angry or upset when you’ve just had two earth-shattering orgasms in one of the most beautiful places.” She closes her eyes again, still leaning her head back in the water. The lines on her forehead have softened, and the look on her face is serene. I rest my weight back on my hands and justadmire her. There’s a warmth that fills me, like a solid, tangible thing I didn’t know I’d been missing until now. It’s purpose. Spencer has given me that. She has shown me how to go after the things I want, but she’s also given me this new sense of purpose, too. The drive I now have to make her happy, to keep her safe, to take care of her, but also to watch her spread her wings and fly, to cheer for her when she succeeds. “I was just so,soangry. I think I’ve been angry my entire life. At least since my dad left us, anyways.”
“I know,” I say, my tone is softened by understanding. I know what it’s like to be angry about life circumstances you don’t have control over.
“How do I forgive her?” she asks. It’s a question I don’t have an answer to. I wish my mom was around for just one more day, that I could be a kid again and get angry at her and stomp off to my room and slam my door. “She had one job. To be a mom. I didn’t expect much, you know? Just a safe home to live in … and to feel like I mattered.” Her words are like a key, unlocking an answer that I’ve been looking for over these past few weeks. It’s forming, on the tip of my tongue, a vague, nebulous idea taking shape.
“You’re lucky to have her, Spencer. Flawed as she may be.”I consider my own parents for a moment, both gone too soon. Neither of them was perfect either, but over the years of remembering them, missing them, and growing into the man I am today, I see them more clearly. Just two human beings who were trying their best despite challenging circumstances.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” she says, shifting herself from where she’s floating so she can look at me. “I don’t really have a right to complain.” I duck my head, staring down at my feet.
“It’s okay. I know your mom fucked up, but I do think she does the best she can with what she has. You’re fully allowed to be mad at her right now and feel your feelings. But take it fromme, there’s nothing I wish more than to have another day to tell my mom how much she means to me.”
Spencer leans her head back in the water again and stares up at the sky, now covered with an overcast of dark grey clouds.
A cool breeze causes goosebumps to form on my damp skin, so I slide off the rock and lower myself into the warmth of the hot spring. She doesn’t say anything in response, but I know she’s heard me. I know the words have landed and are settling into some place within her that she doesn’t want to face right now. In time, she will. In time, she’ll find a way to forgive her mother. Even if that means she doesn’t have a relationship with her.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s near enough that the clouds above us open up and rain starts to fall around us in sheets. Thunder booms again. The sound makes me jump, and I expect Spencer to do the same. I expect her to shriek and get out of the water and make a run back to camp. But she doesn’t. Spencer smiles, still floating on her back in the crystalline water of the hot spring, now dancing with the raindrops falling on the surface. Instead, she laughs, joyous, melodious sounds erupting from her. As if the rain and the very act of laughing are healing her from the inside out. As if it’s healing her fundamental fear of the thunder. And I hope that somewhere inside her, it’s healing her fear of relationships, too.
CHAPTER 28
SPENCER
We’reboth soaked by the time we make it back to the camper. I rummage around until I find a couple of towels to dry off, and once we do, Grady and I hunker down in the van, both warm and dry in our sweats. The rain is still bucketing down, pelting the metal roof.
