His hips pump like pistons, and his fingers dig into my flesh. Moans of pleasure spill from my mouth, and Mick devours each one.
It’s frenzied and chaotic. An edgy ache of need. I hadn’t known what it was to crave like this and to be craved in return.
“Say you’re mine,” he rasps, pounding into me, the slap of damp skin against damp skin rending the air. “Say it, Dee. Say you’re all mine.”
The glint in those dark eyes holds my gaze. “I’m yours, Mick…always,” I cry out, just as another climax consumes me. Possesses me and brands my very soul.
Clasping me tightly and burying his face in the crook of my neck, Mick follows me over, growling my name. We collapse together. My body: sated and wonderfully abused. My tie to him: irrevocable.
When our breaths even out, he whispers against my ear, “See what you do to me. I was planning on talking first.”
“You talked.”
His mouth travels my cheek to my lips. “Not that kind of talking.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“I wasn’t too rough?”
“I like you rough.”
“Jesus, Dee,” he groans and slowly pulls out of me.
The emptiness left behind is predictive of what my life will be when he’s gone. As he tries to sit up, I tug him back down, nipping at his throat, running my fingers over his chest and the pebbled copper nipples. I want more time. More of him.But he restrains my roaming hands and lifts them above my head.
“Baby, you need to stop, so I can talk to you.”
“We can talk later.” I move against him, enjoying the power of arousing him again so soon afterward. “You got to do all the good stuff. Now it’s my turn,” I add with a daring grin.
He arches an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
“What you did to me.”
His eyes dart to my mouth. “We definitely have to talk first. Because once you put that pretty mouth on me, I won’t be coherent.” He drops a kiss on my lips and releases my wrists.
I see Mick’s serious, so I follow suit, cleaning up and getting dressed. He’s no longer at ease. There’s a tension in his shoulders and a strain in his jaw. What could heneedto talk to me about that would make him go tense? Was all that “you’re mine” stuff just sex talk? Is it bad news? Is he leaving sooner? His exams are over. Was this our last time? Farewell sex? That would explain his intense passion. My mind is racing and I feel my anxiety build.
Mick helps me from the car and takes my hand as we walk along the sandy shore. Overwhelmed by uncertainty, the kind I constantly lived with as a child, I’m six years old again. We were in a nicer place than before. My mom had a job and said she was going to keep me this time. Dumb kid that I was, I actually believed her. Until Social Services came knocking on our door, like the last time she called them. “Please, Mommy!” I screamed hysterically. “Please don’t send me away!” But her eyes had that blank look, and I knew she wasn’t even seeing me.
“Dee?” Mick’s voice penetrates my memory, and I realize we’ve stopped walking. “Where’d you just go?”
I don’t ever divulge much about my past. He’s told me the details of his childhood, but I can’t quite bring myself to tell him mine.
“Come here.” Mick pulls me into his arms. I sink into him until he chases the ghosts away. “You back?” he asks, pushing my hair from my face.
“Yeah, I’m here with you.”
“Good. That’s where I want you. No more worrying, okay?” Though Mick’s not privy to the details, he understands it’s the uncertainty that triggered the dark moment. “There’s nothing bad waiting for you at the end of this.”
With his reassurance, I relax.
“Sit there,” he says, indicating a large boulder jutting out of the sand. It’s close enough to the water that we can see the roll of the waves, but far enough back that we can stay dry. “Wait.” Mick raises his jersey over the navy T-shirt he’s wearing underneath and lays it down on the rough surface to cushion a seat for me. It’s such a gallant gesture, I get all tingly inside.
He crouches down and looks at me with those hot-velvet eyes. “I know it’s not candlelight, but I hope my words will make up for that. I love you, Dee. Will you come to New York with me?”
If he had asked me to jump off the Michigan Avenue Bridge, I couldn’t be more shocked.
“Okay,” he says, brushing a hand over his hair. “I can see you weren’t expecting that.”
