“I won’t let it. This is worth working hard for. Worth waiting for. What’s life if I don’t have this? If I don’t have you?”
I crush my lips to his and Jake holds the kiss, slowing us down. I’m in love again. I’m kissing the man I love.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.
“I love you,” he breathes between kisses.
“I want,” I start and he nods, pressing his growing erection against my stomach. “But not in the pond.”
He chuckles and gets a tighter grip on my legs. “What, you don’t want pond water up there?”
“Nah.”
We laugh, and joyful kisses pass between us as he gets us out of the pond.
“The house?” he offers.
“The dock?” I counter.
Jake lifts a brow. “Last chance for outside. May as well make it count.”
He props me on the edge of the dock where he can stand about knee deep and together, we work. The heels of his hands claw down my sides, our hips rolling and our breath shared. I kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him some more, partially because I’m afraid to let go, and partially because I’m afraid of what it means if he stays.
We’ll always have this summer. We’ll always have loved each other. And maybe that’s the best I can hope for.
I have to leave the rest to chance and for once in my life,trust. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to. I can’t plan it.
I can trust. And I trust him.
I nudge him to sit next to me on the dock and I straddle his lap. His fingers sink into my ass as I lower onto him, gaze intoxicated.
“You are so perfect,” he says with such a deep reverence that I might cry.
“Love me,” I beg, and he gets the sweetest smile.
“I do. I will. I won’t stop.”
I slam down and grind up, exchanging kisses and gropes and long stares. He grasps my ass so hard he hits bone—not an easy feat with an ass like mine.
I want this forever, this magnetic connection, this bond. This can last, be forever, be more than a sweet summer of kissing and goofing off and wonderful, delicious sex.
I hope there are more barbecues with him by my side, but I catch myself. Nothing is guaranteed. I suck a choppy breath imagining this coming to an end, and I realize it’s probably not the best look to be crying while we’re having passionate sex.
But Jake gets it.
“I know, baby. Let it out.”
We kiss and bump together, my hands on his neck and his side, his on my ass and my back. I close my eyes, going inside myself and Jake dips to suck a nipple. I groan, shamelessly rocking my clit against his lower stomach.
“There you go. Take what you need.”
Jake’s hands support under my ass so I can focus on my pleasure, and he sucks a breath through his teeth.
“Am I hurting you?” I ask.
“No, I’m just close. You’re so beautiful like this. Eyes open if you can, baby.”
He has me. Jake is home. His hands and the air we breathe and the scent of his skin and the reverent way he closes his eyes when we kiss, like he wants to feel every little part of it and not miss a thing. He’s mine.
