Her eyes popped open, then, and she leaned down close to him. “Are you ready?” she gasped in his ear, and he nodded decisively. Hell, he’d been ready for a while, he’d been holding back for her sake. All he’d have to do was relax his control the tiniest bit and his release would take hold.
She straightened and threw her head back, thrusting her chest forward, and squeezed her inner muscles around him tight. Her orgasm rocked through her and pushed him over the edge.
He emptied himself into his condom, but stared at her over him as he did, imagining that he was shooting his seed straight into her.
Fuck. Was he thinking about making a baby with Abby? Of settling down with her, here, in Valentine Bay?
It was true. As soon as he’d adopted a more Buddhist philosophy of letting go of expectations, of not clinging to what he’d had simply because he thought he was supposed to or that was what he was used to, it opened up his mind– and, most importantly, his heart– to the possibility of what he was actually meant for. And in that moment, there was not even a shred of doubt in him. Abby was his destiny. He wasn’t sure about much, never had been, but he was sure as fuck about that.
She collapsed onto his chest after both of them had exhausted their climaxes and they lay there for a long time, the sweat on their skin mingling and drying, and their breath slowing together until they were breathing in perfect, shallow rhythm together.
He idly traced whimsical patterns on her bare shoulders with his fingertips, and played with her hair, and just enjoyed living in the moment and being as close to perfectly happy as he had ever been in his life.
Finally, Abby looked up at him, her eyes serious as she studied his face. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with purpose.
“Of course. Anything.”
“Did you mean it when you said you wouldn’t trade what’s happening between us for the band?”
He kissed her. “I wouldn’t say something I didn’t mean. Not to you.”
A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Good to know. Even if you’re a bullshit artist, I’m not your target audience.”
He laughed. “Hey. I’m trying to become a better person. I’m not there yet.”
The wispy, barely-there smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin. “Fair enough. But here’s the main thing– do you still feel that way?”
He sat up and pulled her to him, doing his best to hold her so close that she’d never doubt the next thing that he said to her. “Abby, not only would I not trade the band for you; I wouldn’t trade anything for you. Ever. I’m not giving you up. So, you’d better get used to me, because I’m gonna be around for a while.”
She pulled back, the tears in her eyes somehow not contradicting the grin on her lips. “I think I can get used to that idea.”