Chapter 32 Now
I’m gasping for air as I stumble up the steps to the deck and launch myself at Alex. I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry—”
“Ted, shhh,” he murmurs, curling his arms around me, squeezing me to him. “I’m sorry. I was hurt and angry. I shouldn’t have walked away—”
“You’re allowed to be hurt, Alex. You’re allowed to be angry.
You’re allowed to walk away.” I pull back enough to meet his eyes.
“I can wait, too, you know. I can be the patient one, the understanding one. Even when it scares me, even though it makes me anxious. You get to be just as much of a person, with just as many needs, as me. You’re worth it. You’re worth everything.”
His eyes fill as he stares at me. “Thank you, Ted.”
“Thank you for what? Protecting my heart over risking it for yours, like a pathetic scaredy-cat for two years? Torturing you with horny cuddles? Making you wait for me to find my guts and give you what you deserve?”
“For loving me,” he says quietly. “All of me. For being brave for me. For thinking I’m worth it.”
I shake my head and stare up at him, my heart so full. “I don’t think you’re worth it, Alex. I know it.”
I press my hands up his chest, resting them both over his pounding heart. “I love you. Let me show you that?”
I cup his face, press up on tiptoe, so we’re eye to eye, pounding hearts pressed against each other’s chest. And then I kiss him, slow, savoring, pouring into every slide of my tongue, every slant of my mouth, every nip and lick and sweet touch, how much I love him.
It’s gentle at first, then it’s urgent, hungry, teeth clacking, tongues tangled, gasped, fast breaths.
Alex pulls back, panting. His eyes are dark pools of midnight water. His hands clamp around my shirt to fists, yanking me against him. “You mean it?”
“More than I’ve ever meant anything,” I whisper.
Alex’s jaw works. His eyes shine with unshed tears. “Show me now?”
I nod. “Show me, too?”
He nods, sliding his hands around my back, down over my backside, before he yanks me up by the thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist. “We have the house to ourselves, right?”
“All day,” I tell him.
He grins. “Thank fuck.”
It isn’t reverent or slow, this time. No careful, sultry undressing, no standing back and taking each other in. There’ll be time for that, soon. But not now.
Now it’s simply time to end the waiting, to finally give in.
I fumble with his shirt, tugging at the collar. He laughs, then yanks it over his head. I wriggle out of my tank top, then reach for my shorts. Alex tears them down my legs, then lifts and tosses me onto the bed.
I get a moment of stunning, glorious time to look at him as he steps out of his shorts, his boxer briefs, to see every golden inch of him, the white tops of his thighs at his tan line, the thick, hard length of him, before he’s falling over me.
We gasp as our bodies touch, the mind-bending relief of every inch of us naked, finally touching. His skin is hot, the hairs on his chest coarse and springy, grating across my nipples, making them tighten to almost-pain, the pleasure is so intense.
He kisses me, hard and deep, as I reach between us and take him in hand, stroking, teasing, learning more to add to what I learned two nights ago. What makes him tremble, what makes his hip buck into me, what makes him beg.
Alex crawls down my body, grips me by the ass, and yanks me to the edge of the bed, kissing my thighs, my hips, then lower, softer, his tongue dipping, teasing, until finally he’s there, and I arch up, sinking my hand into his hair as he learns me, drags his tongue up my center, swirls it lighter, then firmer when I beg him to.
My thighs shake, the promise of release building inside me, hot and crackling, a beautiful, desperate ache for relief.
“I need you,” I gasp. “Please.”
“Just a little more,” he murmurs. He’s edging me, letting off the moment I’m about to finally find release. And he’s smiling while he does.
“Alex!” I tug at his hair. “I can’t take it.”
Alex pulls away, sighing, wiping at his mouth. His eyes are dazed and dark. He looks like he wants to do that forever. “Fuck, you taste good.”
I blush spectacularly, slapping both hands over my face. Alex shoves me back up the mattress, climbing over me, and draws my hands away, then pins them over my head.
I arch up again, greedy for him, mindless with the need to feel him, heavy and strong and real, pressing me down. He takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking, swirling. I roll my hips into his. “Alex. Don’t make me wait anymore.”
“Coming from you,” he teases.
I smile. “Fine,” I whimper. “I can wait a few— Ah!”
Suddenly his finger is there, curled inside me, then another, curving, stroking. “With you,” I whisper. “I want it with you.”
He brings his fingers up, licking them as he looks at me.
I bite my lip, a shiver of pleasure wracking my body.
“I don’t know how long this is going to last,” he says roughly as he reaches for the nightstand and yanks open the drawer.
“Condoms, huh?”
He grins my way, breathing hard. “I had hopes.”
“I’m on the pill,” I tell him, just as breathless. “There’s been no one. We don’t have to, if you don’t—”
“No one?” he growls. It sounds possessive and pleased. It makes me shiver again deliciously, curl myself against him.
“No one,” I tell him.
“God, that makes me happy, and I know that’s toxic as hell, but I don’t care.” He crawls back over me. “No one for me, either. Except my poor right hand. That guy has been working overtime.”
I laugh, but then it becomes a gasp, as he eases in, just barely.
His eyes hold mine. “Ted,” he whispers.
I set my hands on those glorious deep divots at his hips, the curve of his hard, beautiful backside, grip him steadily, and yank him toward me, drawing him in. I’m not making him wait a second longer.
Our mouths fall open, and Alex presses me down, seats himself deeper. It’s full and overwhelming, so perfect, tears fill my eyes.
“Ted,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around me.
“Alex.” My voice breaks as he drives into me. “Alex. I love you.”
His hips lurch as I say it, like he’s desperate to be even closer, for there to be not even the smallest space between us. “I love you,” he gasps. “I love you.”
It’s fast and breathless, a sprint to the top that leaves us shaking as we near it, calling each other’s name, crushing our bodies together, chasing closeness that has no bounds, no limit.
Alex shouts my name as he comes, burying his face in my neck, gasping for air. He rocks into me still, kisses featherlight down my neck, drags his tongue along my collarbone, the swell of my breast, and reaches between us, rubs exactly where I need him to.
“Come on, Ted,” he whispers. “Give it up for me.”
And then it’s there as I gasp for breath, sweet, lightning-sharp release flying through me. He pins me down, makes me feel every wave of pleasure, stretching it out with more kisses, tender, teasing touches traced along my body.
I hold him in my arms as it finally ebbs, his chest still heaving, his pounding heart thudding against me. And I smile, eyes shut.
“Ted,” he croaks.
I press a kiss to his temple. “Yes, Alex.”
“I think I died.”
“No,” I tell him. “You didn’t. You are very much alive.” I kiss him again, sweetly this time, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his lips. “And so am I. We’ve got a whole life ahead of us to live.”
“I’m not sure I’ll have functional legs for it. They’re gone.”
A laugh jumps out of me. “Then I’ll carry you until you find them. How’s that sound?”
He presses a laughing kiss to my neck and sighs, sleepy, satisfied. “That sounds like an improbable but highly appealing plan.”