“Then why are you still all tense, and not in a good way?”
“Can’t help it. I love you, so I worry.”
“We had a deal about this. You promised if I let you fall in love with me, you wouldn’t be stressed all the time.”
“Haha, let me fall in love with you… As if I had any choice. I think I loved you the first time you turned those potent blue eyes my way at Carmen and Jason’s wedding and smiled.”
“That was all I had to do?” he asks with a small grin.
“I was that easy.”
“You were so beautiful that day in your bridesmaid gown.” He kisses me sweetly as he enters me once again, making me gasp from the pressure and the pleasure. “So happy for your cousin getting a second chance at love.”
“She deserves it.”
“She does, and so do you. I promised you I’d give you everything, and I intend to keep that promise. But you need to keep your promise to trust me that I’ll tell you if there’s anything to worry about. Right now, today, there’s nothing. I swear it, Dee.” He kisses me again, deeper this time, rubbing his tongue against mine before he retreats. He never stops moving in me, firing up my body even
as he touches my soul with his heartfelt words. “My heart has never been in better shape than since I found you.”
Swoon.
“But you have stop making yourself sick over me. What good will it do if I live to be a cranky old man, and you worry yourself into an early grave over me?”
He does make a good point.
His hands slide beneath me to grasp my ass as he picks up the pace. For several minutes, there’re no words, only sharp gasps and deep sighs of pleasure as we reach the peak together in a loud crescendo that makes me thankful we don’t have neighbors close by.
Wyatt comes down on top of me and wraps his arms around me.
I hold on tight to my one true love.
“Do you feel any better?” he asks after a long silence.
“I feel sublime, as I always do when I get to be with you like this.”
Bending his neck, he plants a kiss on my chest. “What about on the inside, where your freak-o-meter has been running on overtime?”
“I’m trying to find ways to cope with the worries.”
“And how’s that going?”
“Good days. Bad days. The day before your annual checkup? Not so great.”
“I think we need therapy about this.”
“You do? Really?”
“Yes, I do. I’m used to living with the uncertainty of it all, but you’re not, and you need some coping skills beyond my ability to sex you into relaxation.”
“Don’t underestimate your potent capabilities.” I smile at him. “I feel better than I have all day.”
“Which is great, but since I can’t keep you in bed for days at a time—although we really ought to do that sometime—we need extra help with this. Would you be willing to go?”
“If you think it would help, of course I would.”
“I do think it would help. I had a ton of therapy when I was younger and first dealing with my precarious health situation. It made a big difference for me. I want that for you, too.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve done a poor job of hiding my worries from you.”