“You’re shaking,” he whispers.
“I don’t want this to end,” I confess.
He kisses me softer, then deeply, like he’s making a vow. “It won’t.”
Our bodies fall into a slow, savory rhythm, chests flushed and slick with sweat. Every thrust, every sigh, every kiss feels like a conversation we’ve never had until now.
A tear slides down my cheek, and Josh sees it, brushing it away with his mouth, tender and aching.
“I am so in love with you,” he whispers.
A sob catches in my throat. “I love you too.”
At my admission, the urgency returns but gentler. He slides a hand under my back and flips us over without sliding out of me, as I settle into his lap. I rise and sink with the rhythm of his thrusts, and his name falls from my lips like a prayer.
Josh reaches up, thumbs grazing my nipples simultaneously, and I cry out. Sitting up, he settles me in his lap, so we’re face to face. He brings his mouth down to each nipple and his thumb finds the button of nerves that is sure to put me over the edge. My breaths become faster as the various sensations send my entire body coiling with pleasure. I tremble and clutch his shoulders, unable to move as he thrusts beneath me.
“I’m—Josh—I’m coming,” I cry, clinging to him as waves of release crash into me.
“Come for me,” he growls. At last, my legs tremble around him and he shakes beneath me, his face buried in my neck as his own release follows hard after mine.
We collapse together, breaths tangled, hearts pounding as one. Josh’s fingertips trace up and down my spine.
“Mel,” he whispers.
I tilt my head just enough to see his eyes. They’re clear and open in a way I haven’t seen since we were kids. Stripped bare.
“I love you so fucking much,” he says, his voice raw. Like he’s stunned by the weight of it.
I nod, pressing a kiss to his heart. “I know. I feel it.”
A single tear slips down my cheek and Josh catches it with his thumb.
“I never stopped.” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“Me neither,” I admit softly. “But I’m scared.”
Josh rakes his fingers through my tangled hair, damp with sweat. He kisses the top of my head.
“Me too, kind of. But I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.” His arms wrap tighter around me as if we could somehow get closer than we already are.
I swallow the knot in my throat and close my eyes, breathing him in. Salt. Sweat. Sandalwood. Josh.
“I think we’re going to be okay this time,” I murmur.
He pulls the blanket over us and snuggles into me. “Me too.”
42
JOSH
Melanie and I take our time the next morning. I think she feels better now that she knows her dad is through the worst of it. I’m up well before her and I quietly shower, letting her rest. Then I find her phone and text her dad to let him know we’ll be over soon but that I was letting Mel rest. Then I slip out to get us coffees—forgetting of course to leave her a note.
When I return, coffees and bagels in hand, Mel is awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking unnerved.
“I thought you left.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. She looks up at me, eyes shining.
I set down everything in my hands and rush to kneel before her. “Hey, I told you last night I’m not going anywhere. Didn’t I?”
