"I swore to myself I'd never look into you again and I kept true to my word." He shifts back to look over the city streets and takes another sip of his whiskey. “It was just… too damn painful. Life moved forward and I never asked anymore questions. I figured the love we had would just be a memory.”
"I couldn't look at those photos of myself during that time either," I say, and his eyes find mine again. "That wasn't me back then. That was the weak Mae who feared for her future if shedidn't comply. I fell in line like I always did. I felt like I didn't have a choice. I didn't realize that all along I had the power within me to make it on my own until after I left Vance for good. The years were a struggle as a single mom with no familial support, but I quickly realized that nothing worth fighting for is ever easy."
Cody nods, taking another quiet sip of his drink, "You did what you had to in order to protect yourself and look out for Elsie."
“I did… but sometimes, I wish I’d fought to keep in touch with you. I wish you’d fought harder, too.”
He sighs. “Yeah, me too.”
We're silent again as the traffics buzzes quietly below us.
"Do you think things might have been different, had I not gotten pregnant and married so fast after we split?" I ask.
"I sure as hell hope so,” his gaze is intense, eyes full of heat and longing as I find the boy that I fell for long ago somewhere in the mist of the swirl of his green eyes.
I know I shouldn’t sleep with him tonight. Ishouldn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that Iwantto. That some part of me believes this might be the closure I need.
Some people would argue that sleeping with him doesn’t sound like closure at all—how could it be? But for me, this feels like the only way to end what we once had. Something beautiful. Innocent.Raw. A final moment before the past fades into something we can both move on from.
Slowly, I rise from the chair, my fingers trailing along the hem of my skirt as I walk toward his bedroom. I reach for the zipper, pulling it down, letting the fabric slip off my hips and pool at my feet.
Cody stays where he is, leaning lazily against the doorway, whiskey glass still in hand, watching me with those sharp green eyes—heated, intense, taking in every inch of me like he’s memorizing the sight.
I lift my hands to the buttons of my blouse, undoing each one with deliberate slowness. The silk slides from my shoulders, joining my skirt on the floor, leaving me bare except for the lace of my bra and the anticipation curling low in my stomach.
He inhales sharply, draining the last of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the dresser and stepping forward. His fingers skim up my back, tracing along my spine, warm and certain, before expertly unhooking my bra. The straps slip from my shoulders, and then I’m pressed against him—skin to skin, breath to breath.
And just like that, we’re lost. We both know we’re doing this and there’s no backing out.
"You sure about this?" he asks as his hands meet my breasts, testing the weight of them and rolling my already hardened nipples between his fingers.
"No," I respond, "I'm not sure about anything right now."
He nods in understanding, then slowly cups my cheek, his touch warm, grounding. His lips lower to mine, soft at first—achingly familiar yet somehow brand new. Heat surges through me as I press closer, my body molding against his while his arms wrap around me, holding me like he never plans to let go.
His hands slide down my sides, fingers skimming over my waist before slipping lower. A sharp inhale catches in my throat as he pushes my panties aside, his touch deliberate. He drags a finger through my slickness, stroking over my entrance before dipping one inside, his thumb circling my clit with practiced ease.
I moan against his mouth, my nails digging into his shoulders as his hard cock thickens against my stomach.
He backs me toward the bed, never breaking our kiss like a pro, until the mattress hits the backs of my knees. Then, with a smooth drop, he’s kneeling in front of me, his hands gripping my hips as his teeth catch the waistband of my underwear, dragging them down inch by agonizing inch.
“I want to taste you again, Mae,” he murmurs, his voice rough, needy.
That one word—again—hits me like a current. Because Cody has tasted me, years and memories ago. I nod eagerly, watching as he lowers his head. His tongue is flat when it makes the first slow, wet pass up my slit, stopping at my clit before he sucks it between his lips.
My legs tremble. My hands tangle in his hair looking for something to steady my heart.
Oh,wow.
His tongue is warm and soft, yet precise. He kisses me there, like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time. He’s always been like this—patient, thorough,passionate.Something that all cowboys seem to have in common. He lets me grind against his face, lets me set the rhythm as he laps me up, drawing me higher and higher until the pleasure curls tight in my belly and I know this orgasm is going to wreck me.
I gasp, barely coherent. “Do you have a condom?” Because I want to come on him, not on his face. I want this closure to be with him at the same time.
His tongue stills, then he pulls back, his lips and beard glistening as he exhales a heavy breath. “Yeah.”
He rises, unbuckles his belt with deft fingers, kicks off his jeans before stripping his shirt over his head. My eyes rake over him, drinking him in—the way his muscles flex and shift, the broad expanse of his chest, the solid cut of his abs.Boxy, strong. All man.
Not just my first love.
