I don’t have to look to know who it is. Chase’s chilled fingers brush mine and the tears in my eyes fall.
“How could that woman do this to her?” I shake my head. “She loved him, and from what we’ve heard, he hated his mother. How could she deny the one person who meant the world to him, her chance to say goodbye?” My voice breaks. “She’s having his baby. Her grandson.”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine,” he barely whispers.
“I hope she got the chance to say all the things she wanted to say. How devastating if not.” I swallow. “My dad didn’t. His sister was only ten. God, life’s just…”
“Unpredictable…” is pensive tone drawing my eyes his way.
A soft frown creases his forehead. Ever so slowly, his green eyes lift to mine, and his hand follows, gently finding its way to my cheek.
The air in my lungs constricts as his palm glides higher, the tips of his fingers now lost in my hair.
We must shift, because the next thing I know, we’re facing each other, the shine of the moon creating a soft glow over the right side of his handsome face.
“Ari…” he breathes, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow, his fingers twitching against my chilled skin. A low curse leaves him next, but he doesn’t pull back.
Chase doesn’t let me go.
In fact, his other hand comes up to meet my left cheek and his lips part.
It’s obvious he’s struggling to come to terms with whatever’s going through his mind, and that’s understandable. It’s like I said, it’s been a long, hard day.
I should stand here and wait him out, give him all the time he needs, be here when he’s ready to speak the words sitting at the tip of his tongue, his tongue that slides along the insides of his lip, as if fighting to slip out, but forced to remain hidden.
But I can’t… not with him so close and not when his eyes are darkening by the second, drawing me in and drowning me without a single word spoken.
So, I make a decision that benefits myself.
I rise to my toes and press my lips to his.
Chase sighs into my mouth, and I begin to pull away, but as my body slides backward, Chase’s hands drive deeper into my hair. He closes the space between us.
He kisses me, and this time, he doesn’t stop.
His tongue dives into my mouth, exploring deeper, and I’m putty in his palms.
Somehow, at some point, we moved toward our dock, because the next thing I know, my arms are coming down, our tops are long gone, and our hands are roaming each other in foreign ways. My back meets the cool sand, nothing but my bra and underwear left on. A chill runs through me, but then he settles between my legs, his warm body heating mine from above.
His skin is soft, his body hard, as is the bulge beneath his jeans, jeans that my fingers gingerly glide lower to meet.
I flick open the bottom, and Chase doesn’t protest.
He doesn’t lift his lips from mine once as I wiggle his body free, pulling my feet up to help them off of him.
My panties are next to go.
Without a wasted moment, I push my hips up into his, grinding myself against him and he groans, tearing free of my lips and pressing them against my cheek and jaw, settling at the curve of my shoulder.
I roll my core, and he hisses, a low curse leaving him. A sudden urge to feel him washes over me, so I reach between our bodies. I grip him, willing my hand to stop shaking.
Every muscle in his body freezes, his lips included.
His pinched gaze slowly lifts to mine.
His green eyes are begging me to stop, while pleading for me to let this happen, to keep going.
Does he not know I’ve thought about this for years, dreamed about it even?
“I want this,” I whisper. Soothing the worry lines on his forehead with one hand, gripping him harder with the other. I don’t take my eyes off his. “I want you.”
I’m not sure if it’s the sureness or desperation in my voice that propels him, but he sits back on his knees, locating his discarded jeans.
He grabs a condom out, locking eyes with me when he tears it open, watching me watch him as he sheathes himself.
Nerves flip through me, my muscles tensing, but I pull in a deep breath, and the anxiousness eases as he settles over me again, his hands sinking into the base of my hair.
His fearful, hesitant eyes ask for permission a second time, and I answer by lifting my hips, forcing the tip of him inside me. He groans, and I slide my hands up his body until I’m holding his cheeks in my palms. I run my thumb along his lower lip.