His ass really is stellar. Like, there should be songs written about his ass. Maybe I should talk to Jake about it.
I smirk and get up, pulling on clothes as I wander around my bedroom. I gather some of his clothes that he’s left in my chair or on the floor.
“Do you want me to wash your dirty clothes real quick?” I call into the bathroom.
“No, it’s okay, baby, I’ll wash them when I get home.”
“Okay.”
When I get home.
This fucking sucks.
I hear the shower shut off and walk into the bathroom in time to see him dripping wet before he reaches for the towel and dries off.
“Your body is ridiculous,” I murmur, leaning against the doorjamb and watching unabashedly. “Seriously, I don’t think that’s normal.”
He smirks and tosses the towel aside, then strides to me and hugs me close.
“You got dressed,” he says.
“I did.”
He buries his face in my hair and takes a deep breath. “You didn’t have to.”
I smile for the first time today and lean back so I can look up at him. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“We have enough time,” he says. He turns away and brushes his teeth. I join him, still scrubbing my pearly whites when he leaves the room with all of his toiletries and I can hear him filling his suitcase.
He’s rushing about, naked, and when he has everything packed, he returns to me and tucks my hair behind my ear. “There, now I can just focus on you.”
“I won’t complain about that,” I reply with a smile. “Do I sound completely needy if I say that I don’t want you to go?”
“No,” he says. “And if you do, then I’m needy too because I don’t want to go either. But I have to. We knew this was coming.”
“I know.” I nod and then lean my forehead against his chest. “But I think I’ve been in denial.”
“That’s okay too.” His hands glide down my arms so he can link our fingers. He walks backward, leading me to the bed.
“I’m already dressed.” I wrinkle my nose and yelp when he simply picks me up and tosses me onto the bed.
“Your clothes don’t scare me.” He makes quick work of removing my clothing, kneeling on the bed, hovering over me. I can’t stop touching him, grazing his leg hair with my nails, gliding my hands over his side and belly.
“I like your skin.”
“I like your skin,” he replies, and finally removes the last of the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Riley.”
I flush the way I always do when he tells me I’m beautiful, which is often. He kisses my neck as he stretches out next to me, his hands never leaving my body.
“I’m so thankful that I met you,” he says. He’s moving so slowly, as if he’s memorizing every line of my body. “And I’m incredibly thankful that you decided against the whole friend-zone-only thing.”
“Well, this would be awkward, for me at least, if we were just friends.” I cup his face in my hands and can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I know.” He wipes my tears away and kisses my lips tenderly. “Riley, this isn’t good-bye.”
“It feels like it.” I hold on to his shoulders as he covers me with his body, cradling his pelvis in mine. “It feels like I’m never going to see you again.”
“That’s absolutely not true,” he says. “We’re going to see each other, and soon. We’ll make it happen.”
I nod as another tear falls from my eye. “How can I be so sad and so turned on at the same time?”
A smile dances over his lips as he rears back, rubbing his rock-hard cock against my most sensitive center.
“I’m the same.”
He’s whispering the way he does in the dark, when it feels like we’re telling secrets.
“I love you,” I whisper to him. He closes his eyes and sinks inside me, making us both sigh in delight.
“I love you,” he replies before kissing my lips, biting the corner of my mouth, and cupping my breast in his palm, brushing his thumb over my hard nipple. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”
I smile and then sigh again as he begins to move, guiding us both to a steady pace of the sweetest, most amazing sex of my life. This is what it means to be intimate with someone. This is what it means to be in love.
“This is not good-bye,” he whispers again as he picks up speed, driving us toward an amazing orgasm. “It’s see you soon, my love.”
I nod and close my eyes, wanting to feel every inch of him, hear every groan and sigh. I need to memorize this to keep with me while we’re apart.
The doorbell rings.
“Am I expecting someone?” I ask with a raised brow. We’ve been snuggled up on the couch, watching a marathon on HGTV and some home improvement show with twin brothers.
“I ordered pizza,” Trevor says as he stands and walks to the door. He pays the delivery kid and carries several boxes into the living room, setting them on the coffee table.
“When did you do this?”
“When you were in the bathroom,” he says with a grin. “I got extra because I know you’ll be stress-eating later.”
“Well, there’s truth in that theory,” I reply with a nod, and frown at the steaming loaded pizza. “There are a million calories in that.”
“It’s vegetables and bread,” he says with a frown, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You’d probably eat all of these things anyway.”
“And cheese,” I reply with a saccharine-sweet smile.
“Fine, don’t eat it.” He shrugs as if it makes no difference to him and sits back on the couch with a large slice in his hand, taking enormously huge bites. “Goof.”
“What?”
I laugh and watch as he chews and swallows.
“It’s good.”
“It must be, you’re eating it like you’ve been starving for a year.”
“Well, my girlfriend wouldn’t let me eat breakfast,” he replies. “I think she’s trying to starve me.”
“I don’t remember her denying you food.” I take a slice of my own and sit next to him, making sure we’re touching from hip to shoulder. “You’re awfully dramatic. Besides, you’re the one who attacked me and we ended up all naked and tangled until noon.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” he replies, shaking his head in denial. “You attacked me.”
“I did not.” I giggle and take a bite of pizza. “I was fully dressed, remember? And you stripped me naked and had your way with me.”
“Well, you were the silly one who put her clothes on,” he replies. “Don’t you know by now that putting clothes on is essentially the same thing as a challenge?”
“No.” I wipe my mouth off and laugh. “No, I didn’t realize that was the case.”
“Well, now you do. And like Mother Teresa says, now that you know better, you can do better.”
A giggle erupts from my throat. “Mother Teresa is dead, and she didn’t say that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s one of my favorite quotes. Maya Angelou said it.”
“Well, there you go, then.” He grins and holds his pizza against my lips, offering me a bite.
“I have my own pizza.”
“I’m sharing. It’s romantic.”
He’s trying to keep things light during this last hour together, and thank God for it. I don’t feel like crying at the drop of a hat anymore.
The Beauty of Us (Fusion #4)
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