Jake raises my right leg higher and spreads my ass cheeks, pushing so deep it almost hurts, and I shudder around him. He grunts and shoves himself deep inside, holding tightly to me as he releases inside me with no barriers for the very first time.
He collapses on top of me and brushes my hair back from my face. “Can you breathe?”
“Who needs to breathe?” I mumble, not able to catch my breath.
Jake rolls off of me and falls onto his back. He breathes heavily, and I love the sound of a satisfied, proud man. “You came like crazy,” he says with a laugh.
“Don’t gloat,” I say. I swat his arm like I’m swatting a mosquito. “It’s not attractive.” But I’m smiling. I scoot over to lie on his chest. Jake pulls the edge of the blanket so that it covers us both.
“There’s a tiny little part of me that still expects your parents and Pop to show up in a boat to come and take us back,” Jake says on a chuckle. His chest rumbles under my cheek.
“Then we’d have to clean the bathhouse on our wedding day.” I giggle.
“You know, he knew about that night we spent out here when we were sixteen. He never punished me for that.”
“Us having to separate was punishment enough.” I snuggle into his chest.
Jake tips his wrist so he can look at his watch in the moonlight. “We still have time,” he says.
“Time for what?”
He lifts me over him, draping my legs on each side of him. He brushes my hair back from my face. “Time to do it one more time.” He lifts his hips and he’s suddenly inside me.
“Jake, I just came like crazy, remember? I can’t do it again so soon.”
“Well, then I’ll just stay right here.” He doesn’t move. He just rests there inside me.
“Aren’t you too old to do it over and over?” I grumble.
He laughs. “Apparently not.” He presses my shoulder. “Sit up just a little,” he whispers.
When I do, he sinks farther inside me. “Fine,” I mutter, pretending to be annoyed, but I honestly love the way that he wants me. I balance my palms on his chest. Then I start to ride him.
I’m slippery wet, and Jake moves, his strokes slow and long, and I tip my hips so that I can rub my clit on him. And within moments, I can feel the pressure building inside me.
“Like that?” Jake says.
“Yes,” I whisper back. It’s soft and slow and while I don’t experience the same earth-shattering orgasm like I had a few minutes ago, a warm wash of pleasure sweeps over me, and Jake grunts beneath me as he finishes deep inside. I settle back down on his chest, and he slips out of me. “Will it always be like this?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No.”
I lift my cheek from his chest to look at him. “No?”
He pushes my hair back from my face with gentle fingers. “It’ll be better,” he says. He rolls so that I drop onto the blanket beside him, and we face one another. “It’ll be me and you and the kids. And we’ll live happily ever after.”
“You promise?”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Yes. I promise.”
Later, when the moon is low in the sky and the stars have lost some of their twinkle, Jake helps me put my nightgown back on, and I fold up the blanket while he gets dressed and loads the cooler back into the canoe.
He rows us back to our beach, and we get out of the canoe. He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear and then kisses me slowly and softly. Jake turns around and I hop on his back. He carries me back to my open window, and he helps me climb through it.
With my heart full of hope, I turn around and whisper, “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers back. He stares into my eyes for a moment. Then he disappears into the darkness.
I fall back against the bed and climb under the covers. Gabby and Laura will let me know if Hank wakes up. I rub my face against the pillow, and scissor my legs together to warm the sheets. And I fall asleep amongst a sweet cascade of old memories and new dreams.
49
Jake
I turn the doorknob slowly, trying to sneak back inside as quietly as I’d left. I stop when I get inside and smell coffee brewing. I squeeze my eyes closed and wince inwardly. “Morning, Jake,” Pop sings out from the kitchen.
I walk around the corner. “Morning, Pop.”
“Did you have a good night?”
I nod and pour myself a cup of coffee. Pop’s probably going to make me go clean a bathhouse or something.
Pop grins over the rim of his coffee cup. “How’s Katie?”
“She’s fine.”
He pats the table in front of him. “Come sit for a minute,” he says.
“Can I just get my toothbrush, instead?” I swear, I would rather clean a bathhouse than get a talking-to now from Pop.
He kicks a chair out with his foot and points to it. “Sit.”
I drop into it with a groan.
He lifts his newspaper and pulls a brown envelope from underneath it. “When your mother found out she was dying, she asked me for only one thing.”
Pop rarely talks about my mother. But I do know he loved her fiercely, and he loves me with just as much ferocity. He is tough, but he is fair, and he is the standard by which I make all the decisions in my life. I can be a father now because he’s been such a good example of one my whole life. I’ve watched, learned, and listened.