He kisses me before I can finish my thought.
Then there’s no more talking.
He touches me as if I’m precious. There’s no pressure. No invisible finish line. No panic flaring through me. I’m completely lost in him.
Just him moving inside me, as though we’re learning each other in a completely new way. His hands are linked with mine, holding them over my head, clenching and unclenching our fingers together.
My orgasm comes slowly, like a rolling wave before it crests and crashes. When I come, it’s not hard or crushing, but a feeling of euphoria wrapping around me, and I know I’ll never have this with anyone else.
He comes right after me, with a quiet moan and my name whispered in a tone holding so much awe and adoration. I stare at him, losing myself in his blue eyes. He unhooks our hands, and I cup his cheeks, overcome with emotion.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Foster opens his mouth then shuts it. He blinks, and that dreamy expression he had a moment ago vanishes, replaced with fear I haven’t seen in months.
“Ah…” He slips out of me and catapults off the bed as if I’m contagious. “I forgot I have to get to the clubhouse early for the bus to the airport. Shit, what time is it?” He checks his phone.
I sit up in bed. “Foster,” I say, but he’s scrambling around the room. “I know it’s scary, but?—”
“I’ll call you from the road, but I gotta go.” He throws on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, shoving stuff into his bag.
“Foster…”
He leans over the bed and kisses me briefly on the cheek. “I’ll call you.”
Then he’s out the door, and the condo grows quiet as I lie in his bed naked and embarrassed, tears welling in my eyes.
Which is stupid, because I knew how this would end all along. I only have myself to blame.
Chapter
Fifty-Four
Foster
* * *
I go down to Decker’s, having nowhere to go until the stadium is open.
He swings open the door, rubbing his eyes, wearing only his boxers.
“Spare me this early in the morning.” I cover my eyes and walk into his condo.
It’s my first time being in his space. Where’s all the candles and soft lighting? This place is all masculine and dark colors. Nothing is overly neat or organized. There’s some stuff lying around, and mail piled up on the table.
“Why are you here?” he asks, not shutting the door in my face like he should.
“Because you already think I’m an asshole.” I go to his living room and sit on the couch since it’s the same layout as my own condo.
“What did you do?”
“Don’t worry about it. Go back to bed, and if anyone calls, you don’t know where I am.”
“Foster…” He stands over me on the couch. “Did you hurt her?”
“What do you think? Of course I fucking did.” I lie down and turn over, putting the pillow under my head. “Your couch sucks ass.”
I hear him breathing over me for at least a full minute before his bedroom door shuts.
