14. Caius #3
I do. Slow at first, savoring every gasp and whimper, every clench of her body around mine. But slow doesn't last. Can't last. Not when she's looking at me like I hung the moon, not when she's whispering my name like it's sacred.
The truck creaks beneath us as I pick up the pace, one hand braced on the hood, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. She doesn't seem to mind. If anything, she pulls me closer, nails digging into my shoulders.
"Mine," I growl against her throat. "You're mine, Hallie. Say it."
"Yours." She's breathless, trembling. "I'm yours, Caius. Always yours."
The words shatter me. I bury myself deep, feeling her come apart around me again, and follow her over the edge with a groan that echoes off the garage walls.
We collapse together, foreheads pressed close, both of us shaking and gasping for air. I press gentle kisses to her face, her neck, anywhere I can reach.
"I love you," I murmur against her skin. "God, Hallie, I love you so much."
"I love you too." Her fingers card through my hair, touch impossibly tender. "So much it scares me sometimes."
I pull back to look at her, taking in the flushed cheeks, the messy hair, the dress that's definitely ruined now. She's never looked more perfect.
"Come on." I carefully withdraw, helping her down from the hood. Her legs wobble, and I catch her with a grin. "Let's get you inside. You need water and probably a shower."
"We both need a shower." She wrinkles her nose, glancing down at the smudges of grease now decorating her vintage dress. "I smell like motor oil and transmission fluid."
I can't help the low laugh that rumbles up from my chest. "Sexiest thing I've ever heard," I tell her, completely serious despite the grin pulling at my mouth.
She swats my chest with one hand, leaving a small handprint in the sheen of sweat still cooling on my skin, but she's smiling, really smiling, that gorgeous soft expression that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners behind her glasses. "You're absolutely ridiculous."
I catch her wrist and bring it to my lips, pressing a kiss to her racing pulse. "Maybe," I admit against her skin. "But you love it."
Her smile widens, turning tender in a way that makes my chest tight. "I really do," she says quietly, fingers curling against my jaw. "More than I ever thought possible."
I grab our discarded clothes, keeping one arm around her as we stumble toward the house. She fits perfectly against my side, like she was made to be there.
Inside, I run her a bath instead of a shower, adding the fancy soap my mom gave me last Christmas that I've never used. Hallie slides into the water with a satisfied sigh, and I sit on the edge, unable to stop touching her.
"You okay?" I trace patterns on her shoulder, watching the water lap at her skin.
"Perfect." She catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Better than perfect. I didn't know it could be like that."
"Like what?"
"Real." She looks up at me, eyes soft. "Like I mattered. Like I was the only thing that mattered."
My throat tightens, emotion threatening to choke me completely. The words come out rough, almost broken. "You do matter. You've always mattered. You're everything, Hal. Everything I've ever wanted and been too damn scared to reach for."
Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but she's smiling as she tugs insistently on my hand, fingers lacing through mine. "So are you," she whispers. "Now get in here with me."
I glance at the standard-sized bathtub, already filled nearly to the brim with her in it, and raise an eyebrow. "It's a small tub?—"
She tugs harder, determination written all over her face. Her chin lifts in that stubborn way I've come to adore. "Get in here anyway."
I strip off the rest of my clothes and climb in behind her, pulling her back against me. It's a tight fit, water sloshing over the edge, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.
We stay there until the water goes lukewarm, her head on my shoulder, my arms wrapped around her waist. I press kisses to her temple, her cheek, the curve of her neck, unable to stop touching her now that I'm allowed.
My phone dings from the bathroom counter. Then again. And again.
"You should probably check that," Hallie murmurs, though she makes no move to let me go.
Reluctantly, I reach for it. The screen lights up with a string of texts from Ryan.
If you two are done making out, get back here for the reception. Mom wants a family photo.
Seriously. She's threatening to come find you herself.
Caius I swear to God if you don't answer?—
Fine. You have one hour. Then I'm sending a search party.
Hallie peers at the screen over my shoulder and giggles. "We should probably go back."
"Probably." I toss the phone aside. "In a minute."
"Caius—"
I silence her with a kiss, slow and sweet and full of promise. "One more minute. Let me have this."
She melts against me, returning the kiss with equal tenderness. "Okay. One more minute."
We both know it won't be just one minute.
But for now, wrapped in each other in a too-small bathtub in my converted barn, that's okay.
Everything is okay.
Better than okay.
It's perfect.