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I don’t bother answering him, agreeing with him because he knows I feel the same way. It’s definitely been too long. I can’t believe I let my hangups keep us apart. Why did I even want to resist him? Look at him. Look at how he looks at me, as if he worships the ground I walk on. I feel the same exact way about him.

He pulls away from me so he can strip off my clothes, his gaze focused on my face, as if he knows if he looks anywhere else I’ll become incredibly self-conscious, which I will. He kisses me, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands taking a path along my body, careful around my br**sts, sliding along my waist, until he grips my hips and positions me just so.

Cautious but bold. Gentle but strong. That’s my Drew. He’s so completely attuned to my needs. I feel his erection, hard against my thigh, hot through the thin barrier of his cotton boxer briefs. I forget all of my worries, all of my fears of him seeing me naked. All I can do is feel and revel in his love. The love that flows from his every touch, from his lips and from his tongue.

“I love you,” he whispers close to my ear, his mouth damp on my flesh. “I’ve missed you like this.”

I’ve missed him, too, but I don’t need to say it. Not when I can show it.

Chapter Twelve

Fable

I let my hands wander, along Drew’s arms, down his chest, skimming his ridged abdomen. His stomach trembles beneath my touch and I smile, thrilled that I can still affect him this way.

It’s still hard for me to believe we’ve been together for years. That we’re a married couple, that he’s my husband and I’m his wife and we have a sweet daughter who is everything to us. He’s a famous football player and I guess I’m his famous wife. My brother is starting his second year of college. He seems happy. We’re all happy.

We’re all lucky we have each other.

Drew grabs me out of nowhere and rolls me over so I’m flat on my back and he’s hovering above me. He’s staring down at me, still the beautiful boy I first fell in love with but now he’s so much more. He’s a man. A protective, smart, gorgeous, talented man who also happens to be the best father in the world. And he’s looking at me at this very moment as if he’s about to devour me.

A tiny thrill rolls down my spine at the realization.

“I can’t even believe you’d think I’d find you too fat or whatever.” He rakes his gaze blatantly over my body and I feel even more naked than I already am. “You look amazing, Fable.”

“I’m still carrying an extra fifteen pounds,” I confess with a wince.

“I don’t care.” He bends down to kiss me, his mouth lingering on mine. “None of that matters.”

“Some women just bounce right back,” I start to protest but he cuts me off with his lips, silencing me with a sweetly passionate kiss. He trails his tongue across the seam of my lips and I open for him, winding my arms around him so I can run my hands down the broad width of his back.

“I don’t care about other women,” he murmurs after he breaks our kiss. “I only care about you.”

I clutch him close as he moves down my body, his hands sliding along my sides, then settling at my hips so he can grip my waist. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest, and I shift beneath him, feeling restless and needy. It really has been too long since we’ve done this. I never want to turn into that old married couple who never have sex. We’re too young for that sort of nonsense.

“You’re perfect just as you are,” he whispers against my belly and I giggle when his warm breath tickles me. “Never lose sight of the fact that I love you for you, Fable. That I also happen to think you’re gorgeous is just a bonus.”

God, when he says stuff like that I want to cry. Seriously. “I’m so glad you’re home,” I whisper as he moves back up to kiss me. He’s naked, he somehow he kicked off his underwear, and I know he’s ready. Despite his reassurances, I’m still self-conscious and he realizes it. He’s being very careful of me and I appreciate it so much.

“Is it okay to have sex?” he asks, his brows furrowed in concern. “I mean, I know the doctor gave her okay, but how are you feeling?”

“Honestly? I’m a little nervous.” Fine, I’m a lot nervous, but I don’t want to freak him out. “Just … go slow, okay?”

“I will.” He kisses me, his lips gentle and sweet. “I promise.”

And he does go slow, his patience for me an unspoken reassurance. We kiss for what feels like hours, his hands sliding all over my body, touching me in all the precise places he knows I like. He strokes me between my legs, circling my clit with his index finger until I subtly start to move against his hand, losing myself in his touch. I come this way surprisingly quick, his mouth on mine, his fingers touching me, and I pull away from him to cry out as I arch into his hand.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs when my orgasm is over, and I reach for him, stroking his erection, marveling at how big he is, how hard. It’s been a long time for both of us and it’s left me feeling a little disconnected from him. I’m eager to get that connection back, to feel whole again. To feel as one with Drew.

I think he feels the same.

He enters me with tenderness, his touch light, his c**k thick as he pushes inside of me. I lie there completely still, taking him all in, breathing through his movements, and he pauses. His arms are braced on either side of my head and he presses his forehead against mine, staring at me with that familiar, intense blue gaze. “All right?”

Nodding, I smile. “Definitely all right.”

Drew kisses me and then begins to really move. Still keeping the pace slow but steady. I feel like I’m floating, my body engulfed in pleasure as I hold him close, his skin imprinted on mine. I can smell him, fresh and clean from his shower, along with a mixture of faint sweat and sex. His thrusts begin to quicken. Harder, faster, and I’m relieved I feel no pain beyond the initial discomfort of him pushing inside of me.

“I love you,” he whispers before he kisses me. A sloppy, almost desperate kiss, which tells me he’s close. “I’m gonna come, Fable.”

He reaches in between us before I can say anything, touching my clit, thrusting deep. “I-I’m close, too,” I stutter, closing my eyes against the onslaught of sensation that’s sweeping over my skin.

And then I’m coming. So is he. We’re coming together and that doesn’t happen very often but somehow, at this very moment, it is happening. We cling to each other, our soft moans loud, our shivery bodies electric as our skin sticks together. I’m breathing so loud I sound like I just ran a marathon, and so does he.


Tags: Monica Murphy One Week Girlfriend Young Adult