Page 77 of Unlikely

“I am.” She kisses my neck. “Sorry I’m later than I said I’d be.”

“It’s okay. Work is work. What time is it?”

“Eight.”

Slowly, I open my eyes, noticing that the sun has set and the only light in the room is from the two lamps that sit on either side of the bed.

“Are you hungry?” I turn in her arms, now facing her. “Do you want to go and get something to eat?”

She shakes her head. “I’m too tired to move.” Her stomach rumbles loudly.

“Room service, then?”

Laughing, she leans forward and kisses me. “That sounds perfect.”

“I think the menu thing is on your side,” I tell her.

Clementine nuzzles her face in my neck. “Just let me stay here for a bit.”

Hiking my leg over her waist and an arm around her, I close the gap between us, basking in the silence and the ability to just lie here and hold one another without having the rest of the world rushing in. The weeks have been passing by so quickly, and the trip to Seattle is getting closer, both of those things making me uneasy. I just want to be in this moment with Clementine, where I don’t have to think about anything else but her.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“Better than okay,” she says while pressing open-mouthed kisses up my neck. “Right now everything is absolutely perfect.”

Clementine rolls me onto my back and strips off her jeans before she straddles my waist. She peers down at me, the low light of the lamps casting the perfect glow across her face, her red hair now accentuating the green of her eyes.

She grips the edge of her t-shirt and drags it up her body, my eyes eating up her exposed skin. I hook a finger in the front of her bralette and drag her down to me, until her mouth fuses with mine. I slide my hand underneath the material and press my palm against her heart, loving its steady rhythm. We kiss, slow and languid, like we have all the time in the world. We kiss as if it’s a slow climb to the top before we both fall.

Because that’s what we’re doing. We’re falling. I can feel it in her touch and her kiss. I can feel it in the air, wrapping around us, keeping us in this bubble that was only made for us. And I want to let myself fall. Fall into her, into this moment, into this life I’ve only ever dreamed of. This life I now only ever dream of withher.

Clementine loosens her lips from mine, our faces only a breath apart, her hair falling around us like a curtain, hiding us from the rest of the world.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” she whispers

“Waiting for what?”

“You.” Even in the dimly lit room, I recognize the look in her eyes, and my heart beats wildly inside my rib cage at the sight of it. “Just you.”

She presses her lips ever so softly to mine and we both sit here.

Still.

Breathing one another in.

Even with very few words, I know what she means, because it feels like I’ve been waiting too. But not just today, or even the last two and a half months. It’s like I’ve been waiting since that very first night—waiting to be this version of myself that only exists in the now, with her and because of her.

Clementine’s mouth moves against mine, firmer now, her tongue slipping between my lips, hungry. I match her stroke for stroke, tasting and teasing as the temperature between us rises. My hands travel down her body, cupping her ass. I rock her back and forth against me, heightening the friction between us, loving how she feels on top of me.

Her lips trail down my neck as her hands push up my shirt. She sucks on the skin above my collarbone, and my breath hitches when she lowers her mouth to my breasts, teasing and licking my nipples. There’s something about the way she greedily sucks that has me certain I could come from her tongue and mouth alone.

She’s like an eager student, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t get off on being the one to teach her. She moves her way back up my body and to my lips, need and arousal coursing through me. “I want to see you touch yourself.” My words come out shakier than I expect them to. “I want to watch you.”

She sits up and her hooded green eyes lock on mine. Heat travels up her neck, settling on her cheeks as she dutifully follows my orders and slides her hands beneath her underwear. Wanting more, I hook my finger over the waistband of her panties and pull the material down, stretching it, giving myself the perfect view of her pussy.

Her fingertips slide up and down her wet center, and when my gaze darts back to hers, she’s looking at me expectantly, and I love it.

“Show me,” I breathe out. “Show me how you make yourself come.”