“If you’re sincere about your intentions, which I know you are, she’ll see it written all over your face.” Max slaps me on the back. “Keep your focus on her.”
“I hope to get another chance to treat her like a queen. She deserved more than I gave her at the end of our relationship.”
“You were young and stupid. Knowing what you know now, you’d do things differently. Be honest with her.”
My mind plays tricks on me, and I can’t seem to get my head straight. I think it’s time to call it quits at the bar and head back. Then, I can jump in the pool, do some laps, and get ready for what feels like a once in a lifetime moment.
I finish my laps and make my way out of the pool. My head clears as I walk to my suite and open the door. It’s quiet. I take off my swim shorts. As my body feels calm, I flop on the bed and sink in. I put my hands behind my head, thinking about what happened with Faith on the boat—that bikini she had on, thosetits that moved with every step, bouncing and begging me to hold on and rub those peaked nipples. Shit. Blood rushes to my cock. I grab it, hoping it will stand down, but it’s too late.
My mind is reeling with images of her stripping off her bikini for me right here in my room. She puts a knee on the bed and swings her other leg over my hips. My cock is hard as a rock as my hand starts to slide up my shaft. I take my precum and swipe it with my thumb, moving it around my tip. I continue to imagine that she glides her drenched pussy onto the tip and hovers there for a few seconds, moving ever so slightly up and down. Teasing me.
I close my eyes and imagine grabbing her hips and easing her down my cock, all the while stroking myself and pretending it’s her tight pussy moving up and down. I start out moving with long strokes because I want this to last. I love the image of her fucking me, riding me as she gropes her tits and plays with those pink nipples. I’m not sure how long I’ll last; I’m stroking faster and faster—short strokes now. My hips are moving in an upward motion and matching the rhythm of my hand.
My balls are tightening, and my cock is twitching in my hand, begging for more friction. “Fuck, Fuck!” I feel her pussy tightening against my dick and lose control. I don’t even care that it’s my own hand squeezing as cum shoots out all over my stomach. I continue to stroke the tip, letting every drop out, squeezing harder, shoving my hips against my hand before letting go and relaxing in bed.
The day will come, and she will be the one riding my cock as I shoot cum into her tight, perfect pussy. I’m confident that I will please her, and she won’t know what to do with herself.
NINETEEN
FAITH
The girls and I went to dinner after the wedding meeting. We’re just finishing up and ordering dessert when I check the time and see that it’s nearly 7:30 p.m. There’s half an hour until Jude arrives at the tiki bar. I didn’t eat much because I’ve been so nervous about seeing Jude again. I’m skipping dessert—my body feels tense, and this empty feeling at the pit of my stomach is not helping.
I’ve been thinking about the pros and cons of meeting him, and I’ve even mentally made a list…
Pros for meeting up with Jude:
1. Closure. After all these years, I’ll have answers.
2. He’s a good guy, attentive, caring.
3. He’s gorgeous.
4. I pictured a life with him twelve years ago, so why not just see what he has to say?
But then there’s my con list…
Meeting up with Jude—the cons:
1. I don’t want to get my hopes up only to get hurt again.
2. Talking about our past may be therapeutic for me—or it could just leave me in a puddle of my own tears in front of the only man I’ve ever truly and deeply loved.
Ugh. This is so difficult.
“I need you all to talk this out with me. Jude was the topic of conversation for months—okay, years. Many, many years.”
“I know you. You’ve already gone through the pros and cons list,” Addison says while raising an eyebrow, knowing she’s right.
“I have, but I’m antsy about it.” I can’t stop fidgeting in my seat or with my napkin. It’s all-consuming. I’m surprised they aren’t trying to convince me to stay and telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t meet up with him.
“Go meet up with him. You’ve needed closure since we first met,” Kendall declares… like it’s a straightforward decision.
This situation is more complex than I could have imagined. Are all these feelings bubbling up and pushing me to spend time with him just left over from the illusion of what we had when we were together? Our past is full of hurt, disappointment, and lots of questions. Meeting up with him gives me the time and space to ask them all. It’s time to get some answers and be able to move on with my life—including my love life.
He doesn’t even know, but the thought of him has kept me at a standstill in my love life. I compare every guy I date to him—and no one measures up.
It’s like Kendall lives in my head. As I take a deep breath and breathe it out, I say, “That’s exactly what I was thinking. He might give me some answers to my most important questions. Mostly, why?”
