This is my last day with him. The past two and a half days have been incredible. I love having him here, having this time with him. We usually get one full day, two if we’re lucky; this time, I get him for three and a half.
As I lie here awake in his arms, I think about the future for us. About what it might look like. I’ve run the scenario a hundred times in my head and I can’t see it without one of us giving something up. One of us would have to make the sacrifice.
“Mornin.’”
I feel his lips press against the top of my head. “Morning.” I try to keep the sadness from my voice. I don’t want him to go.
“Hey.” He places his finger under my chin and lifts so I’m looking at him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just… this is our last day together before you leave.” I sound like I’m whining and I hate that, but I hate the fact that he’s leaving even more.
“Just for a couple of weeks, and then you’ll be home for the wedding. You’re staying the entire week, right?”
“Yeah.” That’s still not long enough. I’m not sure any amount of time will ever be.
“I get you for a full week.”
“Not really. There will be wedding stuff, you know. Whit has it all planned out. She’s going to keep my busy.”
“I know, but you’re staying with me. At the end of the day, you’ll be right here, just like this in my arms. It’s going to be hard as hell to sleep without you when I go home.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “I guess we need to get going. I told Mom we’d be there a little early and she’s going to have lunch ready at noon. We slept in again.”
“It’s your fault. I can’t get enough of these sweet lips,” he says, kissing me.
“Mike!” I screech. “I need to brush my teeth.” I wiggle out of his arms and roll out of bed. Yes, I rolled. That was my only hope of getting away from him quickly. “I’m getting in the shower.”
“I’m coming with you.” He sits up and stands from the bed.
“Nope. Not going to happen. If you do that, we’ll never leave. You’re meeting my parents today, and I don’t want to go over there with the fresh orgasm glow. My mom will notice and I don’t want to have that conversation.”
“Orgasm glow?” he asks.
“Yes, cheeks flushed, smile on my face. Trust me, it’s what you do to me. I’ve seen it. Although I crave that with you, we’re going to have to table that until we get back.”
“Yes, dear,” he laughs. “I’ll just sit here”—he takes a seat on the edge of the bed—“and think about you covered in soap, how it drips down your wet body.” He grabs his cock and squeezes, which has me squeezing my thighs together.
“You play dirty, Mr. Wallace.” I point at him while walking backward toward the bathroom.
He shrugs. “Only if it gets me you.”
“You ready for this?” I ask as we pull into my parents’ driveway.
“Yep.” He grins and reaches for the door handle. He’s almost to my door when I climb out of the car.
“I can open my own door, you know.”
“I know you can, but I like doing things for you.” Leaning down, he kisses me on the nose.
“Come on, country. Let’s go meet my parents.” Hand in hand, we walk to the front door. I don’t bother knocking, calling out to my parents as we enter. “Mom, Dad.”
“In the kitchen,” Mom answers.
Making our way down the hall, we find Dad sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper. Mom’s standing at the island, uncovering a casserole dish.
“Hey, this is Mike. Mike, these are my parents, Cora and James Turner.”
“Nice to meet you, son,” Dad says with a kind smile, setting the paper aside.