Chapter 19
Liam
We haven’t spoken a word since we left the reception. Not that it was much of a reception by then. There were only a few people remaining by the time we made our way out of the ballroom, arms wrapped around each other under the guise of a fake romance.
Nate and Savanna left over an hour ago, and everyone else cleared out just before us. With Jordan a bridesmaid and me the best man, we waited around until most were gone, taking a final look through the place to see if anything had been forgotten.
It worked out that we were some of the last to go. It meant I got to hold her in the elevator, and take her hand all the way down the hallway until we reached her room. We both know tonight is goodbye, and getting to soak up every second before that moment comes feels important.
It also feels heavy. Goodbye is something that’s always been easy for me.
After one night with a woman it’s easy to say, easy to do.
At this point in my life, after doing it so often, it’s become natural to me.
But this is different. It’s inevitable but it seems wrong.
When we decided to do this, I thought I would be ready to say goodbye to her come Sunday.
I thought it would be easy going home and going back to normal, but I’m finding that I hate the idea.
Which is fucked up. I don’t do this shit. I don’t do dating, or relationships, or sex for more than one night. I don’t let women in. Apparently I don’t let anyone in.
Except Jordan.
Tapping her card against the lock, I open the door and lead her inside quietly, tossing my suit jacket on top of her luggage rack.
As the door closes with a soft click, I stop, turning to her.
She looks perfect tonight. Today. I know I think that about her all the time, but I’ve committed so many moments from today to memory.
The way she smiled softly at me when I delivered Nate’s love letter. The blush that came over her as she was walking down the aisle at the ceremony. When she threw her head back and laughed so hard every muscle in her body shook during pictures.
The look in her eyes when we first danced together. Fuck, that one really got me. The same feeling from last night where my stomach tightened, and my chest constricted came back, and I didn’t want it to end. It’s the same feeling expanding through me right now as she gazes up at me.
Another moment I’m committing to memory.
“Promise me something,” I say in a hushed voice. There’s no need to whisper, but it seems strange to talk any louder than that.
The corners of her lips twitch. “Anything.”
Bringing my free hand to her cheek, I caress her soft skin with the back of my fingers before gently cupping her jaw. “Promise you’ll never forget this week.”
Jordan sucks in a breath, but her lips pull into a gentle smile. “I promise.”
I give her a nod, breathing becoming easier when she gives me her word. “Good.”
Dipping my head, I brush my lips softly across hers.
It’s just a whisper of a kiss, something I don’t know I’ve ever done, but it feels right.
Releasing her hand, I wrap it around her waist and pull her flush to my body, her arms moving to wrap around my neck as we stand there and kiss.
Her entire body shakes as she releases a breath when my lips lift from hers, her eyes fluttering open a second later.
Tonight I’m going to savor her. There’s no ripping her clothes off or getting inside of her before we’re even naked.
I know we’re on the same page when her fingers move through the hair at the back of my head and she hugs herself closer to me at the same time.
She doesn’t want to let go as much as I don’t want to.
Resting my forehead against hers, my eyes close.
I breathe deeply, taking in the last little bit of her perfume, mixed with everything else from the day, as I commit to memory the way her body feels against mine.
I’ve done that a million times over this week, but tonight it’s different.
Tonight I’m a different man than I was five days ago.
“Can I still use your shoulder when we get home?” she wonders quietly.
“I’d be pissed if you didn’t.”
Lifting my head, I see tears shining in her eyes. Seven months ago a sight like that would have terrified me. I would have stiffened and patted her back, unsure of what to do. But I’ve seen a lot of her tears since then, and she’s slowly told me, more often than not without words, how to help her.
I know those tears are different than the ones I’m looking at now. The ones of the past are because of her past. These are because of her future. Our future. The one that doesn’t exist beyond friendship.
Catching a rogue tear that slips down her cheek with my thumb, I lean in and press a soft kiss to the skin it touched, lingering there for a moment.
Another shaky breath whispers across my jawline as she struggles to maintain composure, but she doesn’t need to do it for me.
If she needs to fall apart tonight, I’ll be there to piece her back together.
“Whatever you need. Tonight, tomorrow, a month, or year from now,” I whisper against her skin. “I want you to take it.”
Pulling her head back, she looks up at me, another tear racing down her cheek. Days ago she may have been too timid to tell me what she needed, but tonight she says it without hesitation. “You. I need you.”
It makes me smile. I know exactly how she feels because I need her too.
Releasing her, I shrug out of my tux vest, tossing it on the TV stand. Then I take her hand and lead her over to the desk. Her room is a replica of mine, and this is where I fucked her for the first time. Not that I plan on bending her over the desk again.
I pull her in front of me, looking at the two of us in the mirror above the desk.
My hands move to the back of her neck, most of which is exposed with her hair pinned up for the wedding, and slowly slide my fingertips along the smooth skin of her shoulders and down over her back until I reach the small clasp and zipper of her dress.
I take one last look at her in the mirror with her pretty dress on. Silver, flowy, and showing off her beautiful legs. When she danced the night away, the skirt fluttered through the air when she spun or got a little crazy on the dance floor. It made me laugh every single time.
Bringing my attention back to the clasp, I get it undone before slowly sliding the zipper down.
I don’t let it fall from her body, though.
I hold the dress as delicately as possible, kneeling down so she can step out of it before I move to the chair in her room, laying it over the back so it doesn’t get damaged.
When I turn back to her, she hasn’t moved, but she’s watching me, her chest rising and falling quickly.
How the fuck am I never going to see this again after tonight?
Scooping her up, she throws her arms around my neck, our eyes never leaving each other’s as I carry her to the bed, setting her down with a gentleness I’ve never shown anyone.
Her arms stay wrapped around me, not wanting to let me go, but after a sweet kiss to her forehead, I take her hands and place them on her stomach before I stand to take my shirt off, followed by the rest of my clothes.
Then I’m settling between her legs on the bed, hovering over her as my lips find hers in a kiss that should never end.
Nothing about tonight should end. From the way my fingers move over every inch of her skin to the way she hums when I touch a spot I know she loves.
It shouldn’t be the last time I hear my name fall from her lips as I move with a slowness that should make us both last forever.
It shouldn’t be the last time I feel her constrict around me as I empty myself sheathed inside of her.
Tonight shouldn’t be the last time I lay with her afterwards, staring into her beautiful blue eyes, limbs tangled with each other and entwined in the sheets.
I fucking hate this. But I can’t sour a second of tonight dwelling on the fact that I’ve finally found someone I want more than a night with and can’t fucking have it.
I need to stay in this moment. Right here with her.
No matter how many times my mind wants to remind me that it’s one of the last moments I’ll have with her.
We don’t sleep a second of the night. I kept my alcohol intake at the wedding low for that particular reason. By the time the sun is starting to come up just after six, I’ve turned the couch in her room around so we can curl up on it with a blanket and watch the sunrise together.
It’s almost as gorgeous as she is with the night sky turning different hues of yellow and orange over the mountains in the background. The dawning of a new day neither of us wants to come, so we stayed up all night to never let it end.
“Best week of my life,” I whisper against her ear. Her back is pressed against my chest as we watch the sun make its first sliver of an appearance.
“Even better than when you graduated fire academy?”
The question makes me smile. “Doesn’t even compare.”
“Better than the first week you had Tosha?” she asks cheekily, turning her face an inch towards me.
I laugh. “The first week with Tosha she chewed through a pair of work boots, destroyed my favorite hoodie, and shit in places I don’t care to think about. Definitely better than that.”
Twisting her upper half to look at me, she giggles. “I’m guessing a lot of weeks are better than that one.”
“You’d be guessing right,” I confirm, dropping my head to press my lips against hers.
“I’m going to miss this,” she murmurs, turning the rest of her body towards me without breaking the kiss.
As she moves to straddle me, I reach over to where I left a condom on the arm of the couch. I had a feeling we’d need it when we moved from the bed, and judging by the way her body is pressing against mine and her kiss is growing hungrier, I was right.
For once, I let her have full control, taking and giving everything she needs.
When it comes to sleeping with someone, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve relinquished control.
It’s not in my makeup to have that happen.
But right now, I give it all up. I give it to her because I know she feels like she has none—neither of us do—and I want her to have some semblance of it even if it’s nothing more than control over what we do.
I touch her everywhere, determined to feel every inch of her one last time.
She devours my mouth with kiss after kiss until her movements become so frantic that there’s no way our lips can lock any further.
My fingers dig into her hips, leaving bruises one last time that she’ll be able to look at for the next week to remember, while her nails slash across the skin at my back, my shoulders, and the top of my chest. We’re both desperate to leave each other with the memories, the marks, the imprint of one another.
When my name leaves her mouth one final time, I follow her over the edge, losing myself within her. I know in that moment without a shadow of doubt that I leave a piece of myself with her, and in return, she gives me a piece of her. To take, to keep, to cherish.
Because like her, I won’t ever forget this week. Not a single second of it.