The Story of Us: A heart-wrenching story that will make you believe in true love

“Fine,” he sighs loudly. “You’re right. Favorite smell, favorite time of day, favorite memory?”

He fires off the questions rapidly and all I can think about is the letter I just read this morning, how some things never change no matter how much time we spend apart, and how I suddenly don’t want to do anything else right now than let him distract me.

“Whatever soap you use, whatever time it is now, this one right here,” I tell him quickly, cutting off his satisfied chuckle by yanking him back to me and attacking his lips.

I stand on my tiptoes, pushing away from the door to mold my body to the front of him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I think about all the time we lost and how many times I wished for just one more moment with him. I’ve been given that second chance to touch him whenever I want, and I don’t want to waste it.

When his hands slide up my thighs and under my skirt to grab my ass and lift me up against him, I immediately wrap my legs around his hips and tell myself, Just a few more seconds and then I’ll make us stop.

When one of his hands moves from my ass, slides under my tank top and up my rib cage, moving my bra aside as he goes, I think, I just need a little bit more, then I’ll make us stop.

When his rough palm cups my breast and his thumb slides over my nipple as he walks us through his new house that I’m not even seeing, I tell myself, I deserve a few more minutes of feeling like this.

When he sits us down on the edge of the bed with my legs straddling his thighs, rolling my nipple between his thumb and his finger, my hands scramble between us, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out. When he moans into my mouth as I squeeze him and run my palm up and down his thick, hard length, I think, He deserves a few more minutes of feeling like this, too.

When his hands fly to my hips and he lifts my body just enough for me to slide my lacy underwear to the side and guide him where I need him, when he doesn’t hesitate to thrust himself inside me hard and deep, I stop thinking about putting a halt to this.

When his fingers dig into the skin of my ass as I grind myself against him and when he sucks my tongue into his mouth, I stop thinking about anything else we should be doing right now.

When his hands clutching my ass help move me, slamming me down on his cock over and over, when he pulls his mouth away from mine and begs me to fuck him harder, fuck him faster, when he tells me how I good I feel, when he tells me he still can’t believe I’m real, when he tells me he can’t live without this, can’t live without me, I stop thinking about anything but how good it feels to be so consumed and so filled by this man that I’ve never stopped loving.

When I come so quickly it takes my breath away, when I ride him harder and faster until he shouts my name, when I can feel his cock pulsing with his release, when he reaches between us and his fingers find my clit, I stop thinking about all the things I need to say.

When he holds himself still inside me as his orgasm subsides, when his fingertips circle and slide and move faster, when he makes me come again and I moan his name with a sigh, when he tells me he loves me, tells me nothing else matters, begs me to stay…I stop thinking altogether.





Chapter 23





Eli




So much for talking.

Staring down at Shelby’s hair spread out on my pillow with her face soft and relaxed in sleep, I forget what was so important that we needed to talk about last night. I forget everything but how good it feels to open my eyes and see her lying next to me, feel her body curled up against mine, and listen to her breathe. Nothing is more important than this moment, right here. Being happy and content and not having any worries other than what I’m going to feed her for breakfast when she wakes up.

After I opened the door to her last night and saw her standing there in a casual white tank top and blue and white patterned short skirt with her long, gorgeous legs on display, I forgot all about my concerns and just wanted to kiss her, hold her in my arms, and finally believe she’s here with me and it wasn’t all a dream. Every time she leaves me, I have moments of panic that none of this is real. So many minutes wasted during each day where I have to stop and remember how to breathe and push back the images of filth and pain, and screaming and death, that flash through my mind. I never feel like myself again until she walks back into the room and I can touch her, feel the heat from her skin, the silk of her hair, and listen to the sound of her voice, erasing all my doubts and fears.

Shelby sighs in her sleep and the ping of her phone goes off on the nightstand next to her. I watch her eyes flutter open at the sound and she turns her body away from me, grabbing the phone and bringing it close to her. I stay silent as she quickly presses a button to blacken the screen, setting the phone back on the nightstand before rolling back to me.

Her face lights up with a smile and she lifts one hand up and presses it to the side of my face.

“Good morning.”

Her voice is raspy and still full of sleep and I’m instantly hard for her, but I don’t move to pull her close. The peaceful moment from just a few seconds ago has been interrupted, and no matter how much I want to ignore it and lose myself in her, I can’t do that now.

“It’s okay if you need to take that,” I tell her, nodding in the direction of her phone.

She rubs her thumb back and forth over my cheek and shakes her head.

“Nope, it can wait.”

Her body starts to slide closer and I press my hand against her chest to stop her, hating the look of confusion on her face.

“Shelby, it’s fine. I’ll go take a shower and give you some privacy,” I reassure her, even though all I want to do is slide between her thighs and push inside her, reminding her she’s mine.

I move to roll away and get out of bed, but her hand grabs my arm and tugs me back to her.

“Please, don’t go,” she begs softly as I flop down onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

“I get it, okay? I understand and I’m not mad. I hurt you and I was dead for five years. It’s selfish of me to think you would have been alone all that time.”

She sighs, closing the distance between us to rest her arms on my chest and slide one of her legs between mine. Both of her hands grab my face and gently turn it toward her.

“It’s not what you think, Eli. It isn’t…he isn’t—”