Page 64 of Fire Island
His head is shaking.
No.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
I steady my racing heart with long, calming inhales as I put a little space between us, taking him in. This stoic, grumpy man that’s tried so hard to do the right thing for so long. Nothing burns quite like the love I have for him. It’s soul-deep. An ethereal existence.
Running a finger over his jaw, I lift it to his lips, then trace over his eyebrow. He cocks it under my touch, and I smile.
“Imissedyou,” I whisper.
He pushes up onto an elbow and looks down at me. With a quick kiss to my lips, he says, “I was missing you.”
“You can stop now. I’m right here.” I brush a finger over his temple.
He chuckles and wipes the moisture from my cheeks with his knuckles. I lean into his hand like I’ve wanted to for the past few weeks. His palm catches my chin, tilting my face up toward him a little further. “Yes, you are, baby girl.”
His lips find mine.
I melt where I lie.
Opening, I sink my hands into his hair as he claims my mouth, devouring me like a man starved. My body responds to his, needing him everywhere. Needing his soul wrapped around my own. Only then will this nightmare come to a close.
He breaks away. “It’s been too long since I tasted you. Every fucking day you’ve been here with me since I came home, I’ve dreamed about what you feel like. Taste like. And having the memory back isn’t going to cut it.”
“Making new memories could help?”
“Mouth or hands?”
I huff a stunned sound. He remembers that?
“Everything.”
“Greedy, greedy girl.” He dusts kisses over my neck, working his way down to my T-shirt. He loses a low growl when he finds my hard peaks. “Fuck, Evie, how did these ever slip my damn mind...”
“I—” He clamps his teeth around one. “Do—n’t know.”
I arch off the bed. Rough hands grip my rib cage. He moves, knees digging into the mattress on either side as he straddles me, never losing contact with my aching nipple.
Heavens above, I missed this.
I missedhim.
To think I could have never had this man ever again...
“Cal,” I whimper.
“Mhmmm?”
“God, please . . .”
“Slow down, Evie. I’m taking my time. Whether you like it or not.”
I can’t respond.
Of course he is.
“These clothes need to come off, or I’m ripping them to pieces,” he growls, lifting the T-shirt as he rocks back, staring down at me.
