Until December (Until Her/Him #8)(30)

I force my eyes open and stare up at him, mesmerized by how feral he looks with his head back and jaw tight. I lift my fingers to the side of his neck and his eyes open. The moment his focus is on me, I lift my head. “You’re beautiful.”

“Fuck,” he groans, tipping his head down to take my mouth in a kiss that leaves me shattered. His muscles bunch under my hands, his fingers dig into my flesh in a way that I know I’ll have bruises, and he growls down my throat as he comes. When he drags his mouth from mine, I gasp for air, and he tucks his face into the crook of my neck then rolls to his back, keeping me wrapped in his arms and holding our connection.

Exhausted, I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to the sound of his heart beating hard against my ear as his fingers begin to slide up and down my back.

“You going to sleep?” I hear and feel him ask, and I nod my cheek up and down against his skin. “Fuck, I hate that I can’t stay and sleep with you just like this.”

My stomach rolls as real life pops my euphoric bubble. How could I forget? How did I forget he’s not just a normal guy who can stay out all night without having plans in place to do so? How did I not remember he has two boys at home that he needs to get back to?

“It’s okay.” I start to lift up to move off him, but his arms tighten around me, holding me prisoner.

“I didn’t say I gotta go right now. I just hate I gotta go at all,” he says gently, gripping my chin to get my attention.

But I keep my eyes averted, not wanting him to see exactly how I feel about him having to leave. “I understand.”

“Yeah, then look at me.” I do, and when I see the torn look in his gaze, my chest grows tight. “I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.” He slides a piece of hair behind my ear and shakes his head. “I’m a package deal, baby. If you get into this with me, you gotta know I come with two boys who are a priority.”

“I know you come with kids,” I whisper. “If I wasn’t okay with that, I wouldn’t have gone out with you tonight. I know you can’t sleep over and that you need to get home to them.”

“Yeah, but we have time before I gotta do that.” He lifts his head and looks around then frowns. “Where is your clock?”

“On my phone?”

“You don’t have an alarm clock?”

“I do; it’s also on my phone.” I smile.

“Smart ass.” He rolls me to my back and I lose my connection with him, which makes me mewl in disappointment. “You’ll get me back.” He smiles smugly, touching his mouth to mine. “Do you know where my pants are?”

“On the floor somewhere.”

He smiles then leans over me, crushing me to the mattress with his weight as he reaches down over the side of my bed. A moment later, he comes up with his pants and reaches into the pocket. Once he retrieves his phone, he clicks on the screen and I see it’s just after nine.

“Two hours.”

“What?” I struggle for breath, and he leans back, grinning at me, and then gathers me against his chest. He rolls us once more so I’m straddling his hips.

“After I get rid of this condom we have about two hours to do that again.”

“Oh,” I whisper, enchanted by his words, our new position, and the feel of him under me.

“Oh yeah.” He tangles his hand in my hair at the nape of my neck and drags my mouth down to his. For the next two hours, we don’t waste a moment talking. We spend each second exploring each other in the best possible ways, and when he kisses me goodnight at my door, I’m pretty sure I just had the best first date in the history of first dates.





Eight


December

I PULL OPEN the door to Jones’s, a small restaurant that is nestled between other businesses on Main Street, and am immediately bombarded by the chatter of talking patrons and the scent of breakfast foods coming from the open kitchen. I scan the small space and find my sisters along with my mom all seated in a booth near the window, drinking coffee and waiting for me to arrive.

I force my feet to take me forward, hoping no one can tell what happened last night just by looking at me. When I reach the table, Mom gets up to hug me, and when she lets me go, April nudges her elbow into May’s side, forcing her over so I can sit next to her.

“Sooo, how did it go?” April lets the first word drag on, and I tangle my fingers in my lap.

“Good.” I accept the cup of coffee my mom slides toward me and she winks. Crap, she totally knows what I did last night, the same way she knew everything I did when I was growing up.

“You didn’t call me until almost midnight, and then all you said was you were going to bed and would talk to me in the morning. So I’m guessing the date went better than good,” April states as I take a sip of coffee.

“Okay, it went better than good.” I sigh, wishing I woke up in time to get some caffeine into my system before I had to leave my place. Unfortunately, I slept through the three alarms I set in fifteen-minute increments and still pressed Snooze on the last one, which left me only minutes to get showered, dressed, and in my car to make it here.

“So,” June cuts in. “Did he bring you peonies?”

“I think you all already know he did,” I say, looking around the table and feeling overwhelmed when I see everyone waiting for me to elaborate.