I stared at her, struggling through a smile-frown spasm as I attempted to corral my competing desires. I wanted to take her to bed and keep her there for days. I wanted to tell her every heartbreaking story I'd acquired in Kenya and Honduras because I knew she'd be able to order them in a way that helped me understand. I also wanted to rage at her, and demand that she come home with me, or take me back to Europe with her.
Instead of doing any of that, I shoved my fingers through her hair and kissed her hard. She tasted like mint gum and that special, spicy flavor all her own. Horns honked and passengers buzzed around us, and I realized that this was what I should've done when I saw her in the terminal. I should've shut down all the noise in my head and kissed my woman until she went weak in my arms because waiting wasn't the answer for us. It was never our answer.
"Oh, okay," Erin murmured when I broke away from her. She ran her fingertips over her lips and pressed a hand to her chest. "Okay. Let's see about finding some privacy. Maybe a bed, but I'm not fussy. I'll take a broom closet if that's the best we can do."
I dipped down, brushing my lips over hers again. "I love you," I whispered.
She smiled, and she slipped her fingers under my t-shirt, between my shorts and skin. "I love you, too," she replied. "See? I waited to say it until we weren't so far apart. It wasn't easy."
"Good girl," I said, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Now promise me that we're never going to be separated for that long again."
Her forehead crinkled, and she grimaced as if I'd said something unpleasant. Sighing, she stepped away and into the open door of the waiting taxi. I followed her, and yanked her close to me on the bench seat. I gave the driver the name of our quaint accommodations, a collection of beachfront casitas on the quiet side of the island, before turning back to Erin. "It's been months, and—"
"Iknowhow long it's been," Erin interrupted.
"Turn down the defensive shields, darlin'," I said, squeezing her thigh. "I'm not arguing with you. I'm just telling you that it's been months, and I can't do that again."
She floundered at that, shaking her head as if I was forcing an impossible choice upon her. "I don't know what you want me to say about that," she replied. "You know the parameters of my work. I can't make you any promises right now, and that's nothing new."
It wasn't those months that I was worried about. It was all the months after that.
"Nick," she said, tucking her head against my chest and making me absolutely melt. "Please, let's enjoy this time. We can talk about everything else when we get back to the real world. We're on this beautiful island and we have these days, and there isn't a minute to waste. You're right, ithasbeen too long. But now, I want to be with you, and I don't want to argue." She glanced up and kissed my chin. "Please,love."
How could I say no to that?
I couldn't.
Instead, I shoved aside all of my desperate need to keep her. I forced myself to ignore the storms churning and strengthening around us, a not-so-subtle reminder that we'd either make it out in one piece, or not at all.
* * *
The winds were howlingon our last night in Cozumel, and the surf was slamming against the shore with enough fury to rain droplets of salt water down over the roof of our casita. I leaned against the balcony railing, watching the palm trees whipping with the gusts. It was exactly as it looked on news coverage of extreme weather, with the skies green-gray and the streets empty.
A two-headed hurricane was set to pass over this island late tomorrow night, and we were getting out just in time. We'd enjoyed three amazing—if not windy—days together, and I was reminded of all the things I loved about Erin. The conversation was great, the sex was even better, and her presence put my universe back in perspective. She allowed me to sermonize about issues of disease, poverty, and access to medical care, and how it seemed so much easier when it was me and my grandmother back on the ranch. She took all of my anguish over the lives I hadn't been able to save without slathering me in meaningless platitudes. Then, she suggested that my grandmother would've been pleased to hear about my travels, even the agonizing parts, and she would've been proud.
This woman and her old soul, she was just too much.
Despite all of that, I was in a terrible mood. I hadn't been able to shrug it off while we'd traded books and newspapers in bed this morning, and it dogged me while we'd wandered through the shuttered town and shared tacos from the last open restaurant this afternoon. It was the kind of mood that had a taste, sharp and acidic, and it was in me now.
There was no one source, but all the inevitabilities coming down on me at once. My harsh journey in Central America was ending and I'd be back to work within forty-eight hours. That meant this holiday of ours was over tomorrow, and I didn't know when I'd see Erin again. We'd only discussed our travels and experiences in the time we'd been apart, and other random topics while the one—the only one—on my mind went unaddressed.
But we both knew. It was in the air, lingering between us, even if we'd never mentioned it. We weretwo yearsinto this marriage and were no closer to a life that wasn't built on emails, video chats, and a fuck-ton of frequent flyer miles. I adored this woman, and I had absolutely no regrets when it came to her, but my tank was on empty. Something had to change for us.
Erin was feeling it, too. She didn't say anything when she took my hand and led me inside, away from the balcony and the far outer bands of the hurricane, onto the bed. She tugged me on top of her, brought me between her legs, and wrapped her arms around me like she was trying to leave permanent marks on my tissue and bones. Like she needed to claim a part of me. And wasn't that the same reason I'd slammed into her over and over again last night? Why I fucked every last drop of me into her, and left teeth marks on her thighs and little bruises on her hips? Why I wanted to do it all over again now?
She made me fucking wild to keep her. Justwild.
"Say something," she murmured.
"I want everyone to know you're mine," I said, thrusting into her hard enough to earn a deep moan. Part of me wondered whether this was normal, whether I'd always be this desperate to possess her. The other part of me believed I could live hundreds of years with Erin and never get enough.
"What else do you want?" she asked, her fingers sliding into my hair and fisting around the strands. My eyes watered when she pulled, and I fucked her harder, pressing my teeth to her breast. "Give it to me. All of it. Everything you've been holding back, I want it all."
"My wife sleeps in my bed, and nowhere else," I growled. She hummed into my skin, and some stray wisps of her hair brushed over my chest. I loved this and I loved her, but I was also fucking furious that I couldn't wake up this way every single day. "I want to put a baby in you—"
"Oh, fuck. Oh,oh my God," Erin cried. She arched up, and that position all but forced her breast into my mouth. It wasn't clear whether she was reacting to my words or my cock's handiwork, and I didn't care because I wasn't finished with either.
"And then I'm gonna want another baby," I said as my lips met her nipple. Her short nails sank into my shoulders when my teeth pulled at her. "And a third, if I can keep you in one place long enough to get the job done. Maybe more."
