This has me wriggling around in his arms until I face him, our bodies tight enough we share a heartbeat, our legs tangled. I want to gauge his response to what I’ve got to say.
“You know what you said in the van,” I pause briefly, before continuing, “about loving me.” My asking, “Is that true?” is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Other than family, it’s the first time anyone’s ever said it to me, and so I’m finding it hard to believe. Could it be I’ve finally found my true north, and that I’m his?
Even before he speaks, I know it’s the truth.
There are some who say a man crying is a sign of weakness. Faced with Wyatt’s tears, his strength is clear.
“After I opened the van and saw you, leaving you there was torture. But I knew I didn’t have time to get you out. I didn’t want to risk you being hurt if he was armed.”
He gathers me up for a searing kiss before briefly pulling back. “I knew if I didn’t take him down, we’d never be free of him. And Phoebe, I don’t share.”
If Ralph had said that, I would have been screaming for help. When Wyatt says it, I feel protected and cosseted, and above all else, loved.
This time, it’s me who pulls back. My words, while simple, are heart felt. “Wyatt, I love you, too.”
I leave it there because if I was to tell him exactly how much I love him, he’d be worried I was a bunny boiler. Part of me already thinks this, because I’ve never felt this deeply about a guy ever, and certainly not so soon after meeting them. Despite the wait for a man who loves me just as I am has been long, it’s been so worthwhile.
WYATT
Eventually Phoebe falls asleep in my arms, her full lips parted, her face relaxed. She’s beautiful, even in her sleep, leaving me unable to believe I’ve finally found the perfect woman for me.
It had gotten to the point I’d given up on a steady relationship, and the chance to be a husband and father, nothing like my own.
Gently pulling free of Phoebe’s arms, I slide out of bed and through to the bathroom, pulling the door quietly shut. I fill the bath and add salts that, along with the heat, should soothe her aches and pains.
With the room full of steam, I light a multitude of candles and kill the lights, leaving the room in soft-focus. It’s time to pamper my lady.
Only she’s having none of it, refusing to get in the bath, unless I join her. I’ve not seen this stubborn side of her before and decide I like it. Better this than the fragile woman I’d comforted in the back of that van.
I like it even more when, after stripping, the heat in her eyes tells me there’ll be nothing soothing about this bath, nothing at all.
We last all of ten minutes before overheating and having to climb out. I might have made the water too hot, especially in combination with the heat we were generating.
As always, the plunge pool takes our breath away, cooling us instantly.
After helping Phoebe out of the pool, I throw towels down on the sun loungers. I needn’t have bothered with Phoebe eschewing hers in favor of sitting in my lap.
The only difference between now and when we were back in the van is that there’s now nothing between us but love.
“Are you sure, Phoebe?”
Much as my body is ready as ever, I don’t want to push things in that department, especially not after such a traumatic event.
“I want you to make love to me. I want you to wipe away all memories of the trouble Ralph caused.”
“Well, I can definitely help with that.”
From holding her as if she’s fragile, I explore her body, my hands skimming her breasts, and her tummy. Her gasp when I bury my fingers in her curls is not one of distress, but of love and lust.
Following some rearrangement on both our parts, she soon straddles me, taking the upper hand and calling the shots. Meanwhile, I continue running my fingers through her curls, circling that little bundle of nerves and pinching it now and then.
I know Phoebe is enjoying herself, with her hand on my cock gripping harder every time I squeeze her clit. As tempted as I am to push her over the edge, when she comes, I want to be buried deep inside her.
This happens when Phoebe stands and takes a step forward on shaky legs. When she sinks back down, I’m as ready for her as she is for me; my cock now heated by her core as the sun heats my skin.
“Damn, but I love you, Phoebe Jackson. I love you more than life itself.”
