And just like that, the spell breaks.
“More food? Wasn’t that dinner on the stove?” I point toward the house, the kitchen, recalling the rich aroma when we first arrived.
“Bah, that’s not all of it.” Bas straightens slowly. “We can never have enough food.”
We laugh and pile into the car, spending the rest of the day winding through the city’s markets, Atwater first, then Jean-Talon. The air is thick with the scent of baked bread, ripe peaches, and smoked meats. Sam and Bas debate produce like two generals at war, while Alec keeps slipping extra pastries into the basket when Bas isn’t looking.
I trail beside them, smiling until my cheeks ache, soaking it all in. The enjoyment, the teasing, the casual affection that binds them. It feels like family, real and unvarnished, the kind of day that etches itself into memory without you realizing it.
By the time we return home, the trunk is full and the sun’s slipping low. Inside, the kitchen comes alive with the clatter of pots and the hiss of olive oil hitting the pan. Alec opens wine, Bas barks gentle orders from his seat, and Sam moves around him with the ease of someone who’s been learning this dance all his life.
And I watch them—the three of them together—and it hits me how rare this is. How precious. Life’s fragile and fast, but this… This kind of love makes the fleeting moments worth everything.
22
OLIVIA
Later that night, we return to Sam’s. His loft is in total darkness except for the thin slant of moonlight casting a silvery hue on the open space. In silence, he interlaces our fingers and leads me to his bed.
On the way, his free hand removes his shirt the way guys do, with one swift pull over his head. He reluctantly releases my hand to allow the fabric to fall from his arm and then immediately claims me again. Next are his pants and boxers, gone.
When he stands undressed before me, my hands instinctively reach for him, needing him. Removing my clothes, he takes time to caress my skin as it is revealed. Long, callused fingertips glide across my collarbone and chest.
As if that wasn’t enough, his lips adore, gentle and hot, with the slight zing of his stubble grazing my flesh. Each kiss erases all my past lows and insecurities, every single moment of sadness, neglect, and loneliness.
He removes my jeans, then bends, twisting his torso to kiss my lower back. Teasing a path along my hips with his tongue, hereturns to kneel in front of me and wraps his arms around my middle.
His face nuzzles my stomach, placing hot, wet kisses on my midriff while his tongue dips into my belly button, sending shivers up my spine and curling my toes.
After peeling off my panties, he plants a hard, possessive kiss on my pussy. His tongue then licks from my entrance up to flick my clit, and I moan at his gentle yet passionate dominance. His lips continue a blistering path up my body, only stopping his glorious mapping of me to unclasp my bra.
Both naked, our gazes lock as he reaches for a condom in the side table. I watch, hungry, while he rolls it on his magnificent cock and lifts me to straddle him on the bed.
His adoration is evident and staggering in his heavy-lidded eyes. His hard cock presses snugly against my sex, and I’m unable to stay still as a breathy sigh passes through my slightly open lips and I slide along him.
Riding out my climax against him, his molten stare only serves to spur me on as my core heats, aches for release, my breasts heavy with need. His devotion consumes me and is weakening my resolve to keep us free of labels and expectations.
I scream his name like it’s the meaning of life as my orgasm rips through me. He seals my open mouth with his, and our kiss lingers while his hands roam my body, one gripping my breast. With the other, he guides his cock to my entrance. Gradually and eagerly, I lower myself onto him.
The sense of finally being full, cherished, and awakened washes over me. His arms envelop me, one across my back, the other on my bottom as we leisurely move together like yin and yang, inseparable, our foreheads connected, eyes locked, mouths open, sharing the same breath as we climb to our release.
“Sam.” His name slips out, reverent, almost a prayer.
His answering groan vibrates against my skin as he thrusts into me, deep and sure, and then we are coming together. We’ve never been closer, now moving as one.
This isn’t sex—it’s love, much more than two bodies entwined. Our strong connection lives and breathes in every caress, every moan, every embrace. It’s remarkable and intense, and it scares the hell out of me.
It’s amazing what time and distance can do for a woman’s perspective. One week since my visit to Montreal and my fear has faded. I came home perplexed and anxious. The weekend with Sam had been out of this world, but I feared, in hindsight, it most probably wasn’t my smartest move.
I loved getting to meet Bas and Alec, and seeing his place. And the sex.
Yet, our obstacles still exist. Distance aside, the biggest hurdle might be that we’re in different stages in our lives.
I have my family, and he’s just starting out. I have no clue if he wants children or even to marry. I never want to marry again…
And I’m getting ahead of myself.
Marriage.
