She curls into me, her fingers grasping at the collar of my shirt.
I wish I could erase the bad in her life like it never even happened, but it did, so now I have to spend the rest of my life showing her how fucking amazing she truly is.
Her lips open beneath mine and her hands glide down my stomach, frantically pushing up my shirt.
I tear it off and toss it over my shoulder to some unknown part of the room.
My fingers work the button on her jeans and push them past her hips. Her body’s filled out since she got pregnant, and I fucking love it. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it before and she’s beautiful no matter what, but I get a sense of satisfaction knowing I did that to her.
Her teeth nip lightly at me.
Frantic.
Desperate.
We both need to feel the other skin to skin.
We tear at the rest of our clothes, our desperation leaking into the air. Her nails rake down my back as I push into her and I smile in satisfaction, loving the small bite of pain.
Her dark hair spills out around her. Sometimes I miss her wild colors, but I also knew right from the start she was hiding behind them. This, this, is the real Nova.
She’s soft, and sweet, but she’s also sharp-tongued and quick-witted.
Her fingers touch the scruff on my cheeks and she pulls my head down, kissing me like I’m her oxygen and without me she’s going to suffocate.
She lets me go and looks up at me with glowing brown eyes.
Those eyes say it all.
Love.
Trust.
Forever.
I never thought I’d want it all with someone, a life, babies, a house, growing old together, but with her it’s easy to picture those things. They don’t seem like far off ramblings. They’re solid and true and I know it’s going to fucking happen. Hell, we’ve already got a jumpstart on the baby part.
She shatters beneath me, her eyes falling closed, and fuck I can’t help it but I’m right behind her.
Our bodies are slick with sweat and our breathing is heavy, but none of it seems to matter.
I pull out of her and gather her against my chest. She drapes one leg between mine, her hand on my chest.
I run my fingers through her hair and she looks up at me sleepily.
“I think … I think maybe I dreamed of you before I even knew how to dream.”
What the fuck does one wear to meet the asshole parents of their girlfriend?
Maybe I should go in a fucking Speedo and goggles—really leave a lasting impression.
Unfortunately, I didn’t pack a Speedo.
I don’t
even own one, and since it’s December, the chances of me finding one are slim to none.
Besides, Nova would probably lock me in a closet before she ever let me show up to meet her parents like that.