He murmurs my name with reverence as he pulls away, his biceps shaking as he hovers, placing worshipful kisses along my face before drawing me back into another life-altering kiss. His tongue glides against mine as I run my hands along the perfection of his slick, muscular back in exploration, careful not to touch the healing ink along his side. Still between my parted thighs, Easton eases more weight on top of me as I stroke his skin, gathering as much as I can of him to me.
We lay there for wordless seconds as the music stops and silence fills the room. The only sound left is our mingling breaths. I live in the moment, knowing the instant we separate, all thoughts of existing in the place we’ve just created will be over, and so will we.
Sometime, in the immediate future, I’m going to have to fight hard to rip myself away. But I do the opposite now in this precious time we have left, which is rapidly ticking out.
Clutching him tightly to me, I bask in the feel of him, of how perfect we fit, of how beautiful he made me feel.
“Natalie,” he scratches out, withdrawing slightly from my touch and staring down at me.
“Not yet,” I whisper hoarsely. “Please. Not yet.”
He nods, his features shadowing with the same knowledge—that we both just stole something we were never supposed to have. We both made the decision to exist in this moment, and we both have to live with it. He pushes himself further into me as if to refute it as we allow ourselves to briefly rest in our connection, chasing the last of the sand together.
The thought occurs to me that if I leave now, I may be able to outlive this.
His lips begin to caress my skin as his cock starts to harden inside me, and I softly say his name. Lifting to hover, muscular arms braced above me, he sees my decision as I gently push at his chest. He curses softly as he slowly pulls out of me.
Flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, I start to dress, increasing my speed and frantically pulling on my clothes in an attempt to start the long, seemingly impossible trek back to reality. Guilt swarms me as my reckless decision to give into my attraction for him begins to catch up with me. “I’ll take the morning after pill, just in case.”
“Natalie,” he rasps softly as I pull up my jeans and fasten them.
“You have nothing to worry about, okay? I’ve been very careful. I haven’t had sex in a long time. I’m clean, I swear to you. Jesus, I’m so sorry I did that.”
“I’m not,” he snaps, this time with a bite. He’s already refuting my attempt to play off what just happened between us as nothing more than sex, seemingly ready on the other side of the battle line I’m drawing.
“Natalie. Look at me.” I hear his zipper and the clank of his belt buckle, and instantly, I want more. I’d give literally anything to replay the minutes before this one and escape the cold reality I’m thrusting myself back into.
I hate so much that Easton Crowne is the most beautiful secret I’ll ever have and will forever be the one I’m forced to keep.
“Natalie—”
“I can’t look at you, okay?” I admit honestly. “I have to go home, right now. I have to go.” I fasten my bra and yank on my shirt in haste as the weight of his jacket hits my shoulders when he covers me with it. I sink where I stand, ache taking over. “That’s yours.”
“Not anymore,” he forces my arm into one sleeve before I hesitantly take the other. Once I’m cloaked in the soft fabric, he snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me back firmly against him, my back to his chest.
“Please, let me go,” I whisper.
“I don’t think I can,” though quietly delivered, his reply is a direct hit.
He turns me to face him, and I inevitably lift my eyes as the searing pain of loss starts to unfurl in my chest. Trapped in his depths, it’s all I can do to get my breathing under control. As I pull myself fully back to earth, it strikes me. If this is the last time I’ll see him, the last time we speak, what just happened between us—though earth-shattering—can’t be the sum of our time together and everything we’ve trusted the other with. He’s given me so much in such a short time. It’s only fair I reciprocate with honesty. Brutal honesty, which is no less than he deserves. “Easton, please listen to me, just for a second.”
He dips his chin before cradling the back of my neck with his hands, his thumbs resting on my jaw, eyes searching.
How am I going to move on from the way this feels?
Eyes stinging, I press on, because I’m desperate for him to hear me.