Page 78 of Between Now and Forever

“My dick is so hard thinking about your naked pussy. Touch it,” he says.

“I am.” I sigh and slip one finger inside myself.

“Good girl. Are you wet for me?”

“Very.”

“Unh…” he moans softly and it I press another finger inside myself.

We’re both quiet, except for our soft moans and pants.

“Shit, uh fuck…all it takes is to remember how you taste and I’m so close.” He says.

“Are you coming?” I pant, expectantly, greedy to hear him.

“Uh-huh.” His words are strangled by a groan and I imagine his face taught, his neck straining, his big beautiful body rigid with his climax and it sends me over the edge. I cry out and grunt in a way that would have made me feel self-conscious a few weeks ago. But we’ve done this a few times since he’s been gone, and I know how much he loves the sound of it.

“I’ll be dreaming of the way you sound until I get to hear it again,” he says when I he says right before we hang up.

And even though he doesn’t say it, I know he’s making me a promise that he’s going to keep.

14

A RECKONING

ELISABETH

The sun makesa valiant effort to cut through the leafy green canopy of the live oak tree I’ve made my retreat for the last few days.

A soul deep satisfaction fills every cell in my body as I think about the last few days. Immediately, Carter’s face flashes in my memory. I roll over and grab my phone and look at the selfie he took. He’s smiling a goofy, gummy smile that flares his nostrils and makes it hard to imagine him as anything other than happy. He wears it like a second skin.

“Hello gorgeous.” I lift up onto my elbows and smile when I see Carter bounding across the yard at me.

“Well, speak of the devil.” I turn my phone to face him and give him a beaming smile. His smile drops away and I come to full sitting.

“What’s wrong?”

“Who is that?”

I look at the phone and Carter’s picture is gone, and in its place, is a man I don’t recognize.

“I don’t know.” I come up on my knees now and he backs away.

“Don’t lie!” he snarls.

“Why would I lie? I don’t know what happened to my phone.”

“It’s in your hand,” he snaps and I look down at it.

“But it’s not mine. It was dead,” I protest.

“I hate liars.” He turns and heads back to the house.

I run after him, but the faster I run, the farther away he seems to be.

“I’m not lying.” I yell.

He stops and turns around. Then he starts shouting.

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