“Dean… God… You…”
I love that she can’t finish the sentence she starts. Her breathless moaning and begging turns to another plea for me to come inside of her. I won’t risk the crescendo she’s built up to now, just for my satisfaction. As I curve my tongue at her clit and deliver the next lick, her body stiffens with her climax, sending more of her juices onto my face as I continue feasting on her like a starving man.
Shivering all over—from release, excitement, and what else, I’m not sure—Amber grabs onto the door’s armrest, gripping tightly through the final wave of pleasure that crashes down on her. After a minute or so, her thigh muscles relax and her arched back settles flat. Yes, she’s spent and thoroughly satiated.
Slowly, she comes back to earth and pulls herself up into a half-seated position. Her eyes are filled with emotion, her skin glows under the street light, and she’s so calm.
God, I fucking love this woman.
She snuggles into the crook of my arm, and I straighten up, start the engine again and drive off. I’ll pick up where we left off when we get to my place. The taste of her on my lips, my tongue, my face is more than enough for now.
Then, she tells me, “You know what, babe? I would have been okay if you just wanted to be fuck buddies, but I’m so glad we’re more.”
“Fuck buddies can find love too.”
She giggles, toying with my hand on her shoulder. “I never thought we would turn into… this, you know?”
“I know, gorgeous, but I’m stoked that you strutted into the garage that day and broke me out of my prison.”
Amber pokes at me. “I didn’t strut. I’ve never strutted in my life.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” I tease. “But either way, I was lucky you did.”
I swallow hard as I park in front of my house and shut off the engine. Opening the door, I hop out and then reach my hand in to help her out. She takes it and joins me, lacing her fingers through mine. With a gentle tug, she pulls me to her and leans against the truck. Her kiss is delicate and soft. I’m sure she can taste herself on my mouth, but this isn’t a sexually charged kiss. It’s sweet and emotional, everything I love about the soft side of Amber.
She pulls from the kiss and our foreheads touch for a moment before we head up the driveway to the porch. As I start to unlock the door, she stops me.
“Let’s go to my place,” she whispers. “I want to put my boys to bed and still wake up beside you.”
“Are you sure?” The gravity of her invitation isn’t lost on me. I’ve had a few dinners and outings with her boys, but I’ve never slept at her house. Which is understandable. Single moms can’t be too careful with the men they let into their kids’ lives.
“I’m positive.”
I actually feel the stabbing ache in my chest. It pierces through any lingering darkness from my past and floods my heart with overwhelming love. Joy even.
This is our turning point. Our starting point. The beginning of our happily ever after. And I won’t waste a second of it.