Chapter 44
Iopen one eye to find Lexie tucked against me, her leg draped across mine, my arm under her head.
“Morning,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw.
“Morning.” My whole body relaxes with the sheer rightness of being here with her. “Nice to wake up and see your face.”
“Nice to wake up and see yours.”
What happens now? That question circles my mind like a ship in the fog, searching for a beacon of light. But there are things I need to say first. My hand strokes over the soft curve of her hip—not to incite, just because I love touching her.
“When you said we needed the time apart to start our own healing, I couldn’t see how that would help—but you were right.
As much as I missed you, that space gave me time to reflect on all my shit.
You challenged me to decide if the anger and hate I’ve been carrying were wounds I wanted to keep open or if it was time to finally let them close.
“You told me I deserved better than a life chained to the past. But I didn’t know how to do it on my own, so I’m seeing a therapist. We’ve met twice so far.
I knew we’d hit it off ’cause he had a copy of The Amazing Spider-Man #300, 1988, framed in his office.
It’s a classic, the first full appearance of Venom. ”
“Sounds kismet,” she teases, but there’s pride in her expression. She’s happy I made this choice for myself. “Has he said anything that’s resonated with you yet?”
“Yeah, he actually did.”
“Are you okay to share it with me?”
“I want you to know. I want to do this with you.”
“I want that too.” She spreads her warm palm over my chest. “What did he say?”
“He said that in grief, sometimes blame gives you a sense of control over something that feels unbearably out of your hands. If there’s a clear villain, the loss can feel less senseless, less random.
He asked me if holding onto that blame had given me any peace or if it had just kept me stuck in the pain and loss.
I think we both know the answer to that.
Then he hit me with, What is carrying this anger costing you?
And I thought of you and what I was risking.
My anger is not bigger than my love for you, Lex.
There’s no comparison. I’m not there yet, but I’m working on letting it go. For me—and for us.”
“I love that, Chaz. I know it can’t be easy to separate your past from me.”
I move her hand to my left pec and cover it with mine.
“That’s not true, Lex. When I look at you, I don’t see anyone but the woman who walked into my café on a cold morning two months ago, choking and making a lasting impression.
You grabbed me by the heart with those lake-blue eyes and that smile.
I love your quirky trivia and quick wit.
I love your warmth and kindness. I love seeing the world through your camera lens.
You make me happier than I’ve ever been.
I don’t care where you came from; I only care about who you are.
I love you, Lex. I don’t know what you plan to do next, but I want to be wherever you are. ”
Her breath stutters. “You’d move from Bayside?”
“Didn’t Val move from Spain to be with Eva? When you find the one, love knows no bounds. I’d move to the ends of the Earth for you.”
Her eyes grow misty. “Where’s your control panel hidden?”
I grin at her computer reference, but my tone is serious. “I’m real, and I mean every word.”
She closes her eyes for a moment as if gathering her thoughts.
When she opens them, they land lovingly on me.
“I would never ask you to give up what you’ve built here.
It’s not just your business, but your connection to the people, to this town you’re willing to fight for.
The only thing for me in Chicago is Jordyn and Dee.
A hundred miles isn’t going to change anything between us.
We’ll make it work. I can’t wait for them to meet you and Sophia. ”
My heart soars like it’s powered by rocket fuel. “You’re staying? You’re moving here?”
“I’d like to do some philanthropic work and travel. Take pictures around the world. I figure one of those trips could include climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. We could check that off your bucket list. But I’d make Bayside home—with you.
“I don’t have it all planned out yet, and for once, I’m okay with that. I’m going to set up that website you’ve been on me about. I want to build my portfolio and take some classes to sharpen my skills. Maybe I’ll work on a few projects Rayne has in mind.”
“I’m loving the sound of all of that,” I say, fighting back the goofy grin threatening to burst out of me.
“I noticed there’s a space to rent on the boardwalk. I might open an art studio, hire a couple of teachers, offer classes for kids and adults, host art-and-wine nights.” She shrugs. “Just brainstorming.”
“That brilliant mind’s been working hard.”
Last night, after we made love, she told me everything—about the pseudo-dinner, standing up to her parents and Richard, fighting for Sophia and the other women—all of it. She’s stopped trying to please everyone else, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“What about your art café?” I ask.
“There’s already an excellent one on the boardwalk.” Her smile is playful. “I was thinking I might help out the sexy owner sometimes, just to get my fix.”
“You’re welcome anytime. But don’t give up on that dream if it’s what you want.”
“I’m not giving up anything; I’m redefining. Right now, I just want to focus on photography. And you.”
“I require a lot of focus. I’m very needy.”
“Well, good thing I have some time on my hands.” She rubs a hand down my abdomen.
Done with talking, I move to pull my arm from under her head, ready to kiss her the way I want to, but a sharp jolt of pins and needles stops me. “Damn.”
“What?” she asks, concerned. “Your arm?”
“Yeah. It’s nothing. Just fell asleep.”
“Poor baby.” She massages my bicep in kneading circles, her hands soft and warm, coaxing the feeling back. And not just in my arm.
Her eyes flick to the tented sheet. “Looks like your arm’s the only part of you that’s asleep.”
“Like I said—needy.” I pull her on top of me, the sheet falling away.
“Don’t you have to get to the café?”
“After,” I murmur, taking in her full, creamy breasts, softly flared hips, and the sweet V between her thighs. “You look good up there, Blue. Save a coffee, ride a barista.”
“You did not just say that.”
“I did.” Tucking another pillow beneath my head, I prop myself up so I don’t miss a thing.
Lexie straddles my thighs, cupping her breasts and plucking her already pert nipples.
Then she slides one hand down her stomach, walking two fingers to her belly button, and lower.
Since she hasn’t stopped with the nipple play, my gaze is bobbing up and down along with my cock, which is getting harder by the second.
I move my hand to my shaft and jack myself in time with the rhythm of her fingers until I’m dangerously close. The tendons in my neck tighten, and pressure collects in my groin.
“Baby, unless you want me to come this way . . .”
“As much as that turns me on,” she says, her husky voice trailing into a moan.
“I’d rather have you inside me.” She positions herself, lifting her hips to slide down on me like a tight, wet fist. Her tousled hair falls on either side of her face as she leans forward, bracing her hands on my chest. She kisses me with all pent-up passion, exploring my mouth with her tongue.
I’m throbbing inside her when she rears back and winds her hips.
“Like this?” she pants, reminding me that this is new to her. She’s so damn lusty I sometimes forget she lacks experience.
“Just like that. I’m in so deep. I can feel every wet inch of you.”
“Fast or slow?”
“Surprise me.”
She does more than that. She starts out slow, then rides me hard, her breasts bouncing and lips parted. Her moans are music to my ears as she fucks my cock like I’m her personal rodeo. I’m not going to last. One more slide, and I roar her name, seeing fucking stars.
She collapses onto my chest, her breasts soft against me, her nipples stiff as bullets. Both of us breathing hard.
I drag my fingers down the seam of her ass to the opening of her pussy. She’s soaked, her legs spread wide over me, still in a straddle. I gather her juices and my semen and smear it over the tender hood of her clit. She moans, but I want to make it better. More intense.
“Close your legs tight around my hand,” I murmur.
She shifts, lying along my body, trapping my hand between her silky thighs.
“Oh God, Chaz.” She groans against the curve of my throat, her mouth nipping at the skin as she squeezes tighter and bucks into my working fingers.
It’s almost enough to get me off again. When I feel her reaching and straining for it, I increase my pace. Her heart pounds against mine, and I give that nub a soft, deliberate pinch just where she needs it.
“Chaz,” she cries into my shoulder, her body quaking so hard from her release that the sheer force echoes deep inside me.
Soothing her in the aftermath, I hold her close, stroking her back, smoothing my hands down her spine. I continue my journey over the curves of her ass cheeks, round and soft like a peach, until she settles and sighs in contentment.
“That was incredible,” she murmurs, lifting her head. She looks sated and radiant—just beautiful. Her cheeks are flushed, and her smile is dreamy. “I could definitely get used to mornings like this.”
“At your service.” I grin, kissing her cute nose. If I play my cards right, I’ll soon have her wifey-ed up and making this a habit.
While I shower and dress, she makes me eggs and toast. “Very domestic,” I tease, sliding my arms around her waist from behind.
“Don’t get any ideas about keeping me in the kitchen.”
“That’s okay. I prefer you in the bedroom.”
She elbows my ribs, pretending offense. Laughing, I lean back in and noisily kiss her neck, wishing neither of us had to work and could spend the day together.
“Come over tonight and bring a bag.”
I’d pack all her stuff and move her in with me right now. But I can also be patient.