His hand slips to the small of my back and presses so that our bodies now touch. A rush of air escapes my lungs. Holy hell, he’s solid. I allow a hand to skim along his back, and Lincoln smiles with the caress.
“I will,” he says. My skin tingles as his mouth whispers against mine. “Sleep. But not now.”
“No?” I try to ask innocently.
“No.” He brushes his nose along the curve of my neck, and I could almost moan in frustration. I want kisses, lots of kisses, but I also love the slow burn. Lincoln has talent, and my heart beats faster when I think of all the hundreds of ways we could spend our evenings.
He slowly creates a trail along my cheek, and just when I’m on the verge of begging, his lips finally come within butterfly-inducing distance of mine. This is one of my favorite moments: the seconds before the kiss. It’s like dangling on a ledge with gravity pulling me forward and the wind daring me to let go and fly.
Lincoln breathes out and I breathe in. A synchronized movement that causes my mind to disconnect and conscious thought to float away. A nudge forward on his part, a tilt of my head, and then we fall.
His mouth is hot against mine and my hands tangle in his hair in response. Our lips part and our tongues slide together, a delicious slow movement that makes me want to purr like a cat.
Earlier, we let our kisses be just what they needed to be: simple, a sign of trust, a sign of what’s to come, but this feels like more. After the words we’ve said to each other tonight, I’m tempted by more, but I’m not ready to give up that slow burn.
Lincoln draws my lower lip between his, releases it and then lifts his head. The warmth and sincerity in his eyes tells me he’s not ready to leave the slow burn, either. This is why I’m with him, because Lincoln gets me, understands me, possibly more than I understand myself.
“How about one more kiss?” he asks.
“How about more than one?” I counter. “Just a few.”
“A few,” he agrees. His body melts against me and our lips meet again—a warm, building kiss that causes me to arch into him. Beneath his massive body, I feel small, fragile and protected. I’ve never felt so feminine, so in tune with another.
Our movements are soft and deliberate. Fingers exploring skin, lips moving in time, feet rubbing against each other. Until it becomes time for one last kiss. One that will be singed into my memory and will carry over until I can be in his arms again.
Lincoln places his forehead on mine and caresses my cheek. My fingers trace the hollow of his neck, and I enjoy the beat of his heart against my chest.
“We should sleep,” he says.
Unable to speak, I nod. Lincoln rolls onto his back and pulls me so that I’m cradled against him. He kisses the top of my head and combs his fingers through my hair. “Thank you, Lila.”
Words are still hard, but I find the energy to ask, “For what?”
“For helping me find me again.”
I mold myself around him and wonder what our future will look like. Someday distance will no longer be an issue and we’ll have more than just letters—we’ll be together. Who knows...maybe forever.
“You were always in there. You just weren’t looking in the right place.” I pause. He’s not the only one who rediscovered himself this weekend. “Neither one of us were.”
“True,” he agrees and gathers me closer. “But we figured it out.”
I close my eyes and hug my body to his. Two years of letters, two years of redefining myself and two years of falling for my best friend. As I cuddle into Lincoln, I know that I would relive it all in order to experience this moment again.
Lincoln
I think sometimes things we don’t like happen so we can appreciate the good. Like, can I really enjoy a sunrise if I didn’t experience the darkness of night? Without her past, Echo would never have met Noah, and without her losing Aires, I would never have met you. So, yeah, I do mean what I said in the last letter. You are like a sunrise in my life.
~ Lila
Stretched out on her stomach with her face toward me, Lila sleeps. Her tousled hair falls over her shoulder, onto her cheek. I’ve been awake for an hour, watching her. She smiles when she dreams. Twice, little lines formed between her eyebrows and I had to stop myself from smoothing them out. She’s too beautiful to wear worry. I’ll do whatever it takes
to ensure her happiness.
Birds begin to chirp outside Lila’s window—a warning of the impending moment. Soon, I’ll have to say goodbye.
I’ve got a long drive and a lot of work in front of me in order to catch up with Lila. After spending time with her, going back to letters will be difficult, but we also agreed to phone calls and Skype and weekend visits.
I skim my finger against the soft skin of her cheek, and her head angles toward my touch. Her eyes flutter open and her lips edge up when she sees me. “Hi.”