the mattress with his heavy body, settling himself between my legs again, explaining, “You didn’t let me finish! I was trying to say I know you love me. I know, and it’s incredible.” He looked down at me, his eyes a shifting pool of blue, the corner of his lip quirked into a lopsided smile as he gently swiped my hair behind my ear. He buried his face against my neck, his breath tickling against my skin as he whispered softly, “Because I am completely in love with you right back.”
It only took fifteen freaking years, but we managed to finally recite our lines properly. I love you. Well, I love you, too. Jesus. Isn’t that how normal people do it?
He raised his head and smiled into my eyes as he requested, “Say it again.”
“What? Han Solo? Does that turn you on, nerd? Should I Leia my hair and throw on a gold bikini?” God, he was so cute. Just look at that face.
His grin was infectious. “Yes. Eventually. But right now I just want to hear you say it. Say it again.”
I stopped laughing and met his eyes. “I love y—”
My words were cut off with a gasp as he slid into me with a groan; proudly, confidently, holding himself still, letting my body get used to the feel of him inside me. Again.
It was as if he’d never left me, as if the two of us had always been joined together, as if we were always meant to be.
He didn’t. We had. We were.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
He pulled out almost fully, then slid back in— slowly —full-length this time, which was almost my undoing. Oh God yes. I twined my fingers in his hair and arched toward him as he repeated the movement, his arm wrapped around my middle, holding me fixed to him, gliding in and out of me leisurely, as if we had all the time in the world. Each time he entered me, he plunged just a little harder, a little faster, picking up the pace ever so slightly until he was rocking against me in an unhurried, steady rhythm, a never-ending slow-dance that threatened to completely shatter my heart.
This man in my arms. This beautiful man who was capable of beautiful things, in as well as out of the bedroom. The exquisiteness of his touch, the weight of his words, the tender care he took to make me feel loved, cherished… unbelievably turned on. It was too much emotion. Bittersweet and wonderful, being in the bed of the man I loved deep down to my core; my heart, my soul. The man I had loved—and would continue to love—forever.
Trip’s voice cracked on a rough whisper. “Open your eyes.”
When I did, I saw him looking into my eyes, heavy-lidded, full of adoration and wanting. Making sure I knew he was with me. Only me.
“I love you, Lay.”
His words brought the fresh sting of tears, and my eyes began to leak even as my heart swelled.
“ Hey… hey, why are you crying?” He gave a little chuckle in understanding, swiping the moisture from my cheeks and saying, “It’s okay, babe. We’re okay now.”
It was hard to believe, even though I knew he was right. It was just that we had a million unsaid things between us, a million hurts to heal. It was scary to think that our chance for happiness could be ruined again by misunderstandings. I didn’t think I’d survive if things didn’t work out for us this time.
Jeebus. I needed to turn my brain off. Why was I allowing myself to worry about tomorrow and the unlikely demise of us when I finally had him exactly where I wanted right then?
“Trip?” I said through tear-blurred eyes. “I’m just so happy right now.”
That made him laugh. “You sure have a weird way of showing it, babe.” He lowered his mouth toward mine again. “Luckily, I know the right way.”
His kiss was sweet, but heated, his lips brushing against mine in waves. I felt the current stirring, this beautiful man holding my gaze locked to his, his incredible body rocking against mine,
Learning to Kill: Stories