Page 73 of Worth the Fight

“Pure heaven,” I moan, working my mouth along her skin.

She groans, and her head falls back, body arching off the counter the further I work down her soft skin. My lips drag against her skin, and when I get to her underwear, I don’t bother taking them off. My finger slides underneath, and I pull the soaked fabric to the side, groaning when I see her perfect pussy, wet and waiting for me.

“Lukas,” she moans, her chest heaving as she dares to glance down. Her legs, which are still wrapped around my waist, clench, and I know she’s desperate to squeeze them together, to ease the ache that’s blooming.

“So fucking pretty,” I rumble, dropping a knee on the floor. With my hands gripping her thighs, I prop her good leg up on my shoulder, leaving the other one to rest on the counter so I don’t hurt her foot.

There’s nowhere for me to turn, nowhere for me to look or taste that isn’t one hundred percent Magnolia, and my cock hardens, pressing against the seam of my jeans so badly it hurts.

She bucks her hips, and a grin splits my lips. “My greedy girl…”

“Please,” she whines. “You can’t just sit there and stare while I’m so turned on like this.”

I smile, darting my tongue out to lick one long sweep all the way up to her clit. She gasps when I pull it into my mouth, sucking.

I go at her like a man starved, and in a way, I am. This is the hard part of long distance. It’s not fair to love someone so much, to want to be with them every day, for mundane tasks like appointments, and for intimate moments like this. It's not fair that we will be spending years apart, only getting to see each other once every few months at best.

I can feel my eyes burn with unshed tears, and I force them away, focusing on what’s in front of me, on the only thing that matters.

Using two fingers, I ease them inside of her, and she moans, rocking her hips against my hand. We’re a mess of movements, my mouth working as fast as my hands, her body grinding against my face. Maybe she’s thinking the same thing I am. Once again, our time is limited. I fly out in less than forty-eight hours, then we’ll be back to sleeping alone. To lonely nights and heartache and cold beds without the other one next to us.

She calls out my name as she comes, and I don’t let up, working my fingers inside of her until she’s limp. Until her chest heaves with a sigh of relief and she pushes herself up to sit.

Her hands come out to grab my cheeks, and she pulls me to her, forcing our lips together. I stand as she does, wrapping my arms around her hips and lifting her.

We take the short walk to the bedroom blind, our mouths refusing to leave one another. And when I lay her down on the bed, I spend the rest of the afternoon rocking into her, wishing I could stay here in this moment with her, forever.

CHAPTER 35

Magnolia

JANUARY

“How has she been sleeping?”

I pour fresh coffee into two mugs, carefully setting one on the bar top for Raymond. I reach for the milk, splashing some into my cup before I slide it over to him.

His bloodshot eyes told me everything I needed to know when he arrived at my apartment earlier, but I assume that’s relatively normal when you have a five-month-old baby.

“What’s sleep?” he mumbles, bringing the steaming cup to his lips for a sip. He blows once, careful not to burn himself as he takes his first drink. “People talk about how exhausting the newborn phase is, and they’re right. We expected to wake up a lot. I thought I knew what exhaustion with some of our intense training schedules, but this is a level of exhaustion I still can’t get used to.”

Sylvia squawks her agreement, her chunky little body bouncing on Raymond’s thigh. She leans forward, trying to reach for his cup of coffee, but he pulls it away, offering her a rattle toy instead.

“I wonder when a new parent starts to feel like themselves again.” Ivy turns a year old at the end of this month, and from what Lukas has said, she sleeps through the night for the most part, but that’s a new occurrence. They have gone through almost an entire year of waking up two or three times to change her, feed her, or just to hold her. I imagine at that point, even sleeping four or five hours in a row feels like a win.

“I’ll let you know when that happens,” he teases. He reaches for his cup of coffee and takes another drink, followed by an exaggerated yawn. “How’s your cowboy doing? How’s Ivy?”

I smile into my cup. “They’re both wonderful. Ivy turns one at the end of the month, and I plan to fly home for a few days for her first birthday party.”

He nods at that. “How has the distance been treating you two?”

“It’s…” Difficult. Frustrating. Everything it was before. We’re making it work, and our communication is better than it’s ever been, but it’s hard not getting to see the person you love the most every day, or even every month. “It’s not fun, but we’re making it work, I’ll just say that.”

“He shares custody, right? There’s no way he and Ivy could move here?”

“Noooo, nope. Shared custody.” And not that I’d ever ask, but I know Lukas wouldn’t ever live away from Ivy. The few miles from the Hart farm to town is hard enough on him.

“So, what’s the plan then, Magnolia?” I glance up, finding Raymond's copper eyes fixated on me. “Are you guys going to do this for the next ten years? Are you going to retire early? Are you going to move back to the States and dance there?”