"How many shall I pluck for you?" Charlie kissed the top of her head, snuggling her closer.
Christine laughed. Such silly romantic nonsense. She saw why Hawaii remained the dream honeymoon location, romance hung in the air, a scent unlike any other. A feeling as though lovers had all the time in the world to just be together.
"Thank you for making this unexpected disaster one of the best days of my life." Her fingertips explored the back of his hand. He didn't reply, and although his arms stayed around her, they tensed. She nibbled her lip. Damn. Had she said too much too soon, crossed some imaginary line even after all they'd done?
"You're welcome." Cupping her cheek, he turned her gaze to his. "And thank you for just being you." Expression veiled, revealing nothing of what he thought, Charlie led them inside and wheeled the dishes into the hall while she stood uncertain. What now? After pulling back the tangled sheets and piling pillows against the headboard, Charlie dropped the towel, settled in bed, and opened his legs and arms. "Join me?"
Christine bit her lip to keep tears at bay, relieved beyond hope he didn't dress and leave. She shed the robe and settled between his legs, her back against his chest. He wrapped around her and held her hands, causing her heart to thud at the way their fingers entwined.
"Tell me about Australia." His voice was even and deep like their normal nightly chats, except this time they lay together naked in each other's arms. Christine launched into details of Sydney, Harbor Bridge, Opera House, and the people she'd met sharing everything she had wished to share at the time she'd seen them.
Charlie listened as no one had listened in a long time, as no one else ever did, asking questions, being interested, making her feel heard and important and vital, so close not just in body but in spirit. Her head tilted up; he smiled and touched their lips together, soft and warm, before shifting them to lay spoon fashion. A dim glow from the bedside lamp and the bright stars outside lit the room as Christine breathed deep of his scent, wiggled, and curled into him as he curved around her. Still his hands held hers, tucked against them as natural as breathing. It was too easy to fall into slumber with him beside her, protecting and keeping her safe. For the first time in a very long time, she felt completely secure.
Later, disoriented and groggy, Christine felt Charlie move behind her in the semi-darkness, hips pressing against hers, over and over, until she moved in perfect sync. One hand cupped her breast, the other locked in hers as his knee parted her thighs so he could slide inside her moist heat. For a moment they stilled, held together, joined in the ultimate way. She didn't dare move. If she dreamed, and even if not, she didn't wish to lose this precious moment. They were one.
Charlie murmured near her ear, her name, an endearment, it didn't matter. Their kiss was soft, tender, and so perfect it must have been a dream. Unlike the other kisses they shared, it didn't escalate, even as they rocked their hips in continued shared motion. As easy as a slow, late summer stream, his thrusts and her arches into them became so natural as if they had done this a hundred times in a hundred ways.
She felt the tightening inside as his hands gripped hers. Their lips clung as the orgasm took them, his hot liquid burning into her and hers over him. With hands clasped, bodies connected, Christine slipped back toward sleep. "My Charlie."
***
He heard the whisper as she slipped back into slumber with her lips curved. Charlie kissed her head, content and delighted she'd felt this difference in their joining. They had just made love for the first time. Sill inside her, though he'd soon slip free, Charlie listened to her quiet breathing and wondered how the hell he could watch her get on a plane in a few hours and leave him here alone again. Solitude never bothered him until this moment, and he understood he would never be content without her.
What the hell could he do? Taking control in sex might be one thing; asking her to surrender the life she'd busted her ass to build would be asking too much. And God, did he even want commitment again?
Christine remained a beacon of light, unique, special, and cherished like no woman he'd ever been with. Yet he'd vowed never again to give so much of himself to any woman, regardless of who it was. Could he risk his own hard won freedom and self-confidence?