Page 16 of Game Change

He doesn’t make small talk or offer me a drink. When he closes the front door behind him, he lifts me off my feet and carries me upstairs. He carries me a lot; no man has ever done that to me. I haven’t told anyone, but I like it. Sometimes, he’ll lift me off my feet just to kiss me.

“I hate that this is our last night,” he says once we get to his room. He puts me on my feet and pulls down my shorts. I kick my shoes and the shorts off, raising my arms like a child so he can pull my shirt over my head, letting my bare breasts spring free. His hands cover them.

That’s another thing he does. He undresses me, and the look of lust in his eyes spurs my own desire. Even now, my pussy is not only moist but throbbing and ready for him. I don’t know if it's the location or just my decision to have this tryst, but he’s the best lover I’ve ever had. Each night, we’re together multiple times, and each time ends in screaming orgasms.

He spins me around and slams me into his bare chest. Of course, it’s bare. And broad. And tanned. And so nice to the touch. He quickly pulls down his gray shorts and kicks off his matching gray Crocs before joining me on the bed. He climbs on top of me and kisses me deep, but instead of reaching into his nightstand drawer for a condom, he rolls off me and lies on his side. I copy his movements, and he puts one of his big hands on my side.

“What’s your favorite dinner?” he asks, surprising me.

I inch closer. “Baked chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and string beans. Warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream and whipped cream for dessert.”

“I’ll make it for you when we get back.”

“You cook?” I ask.

“I do. Do you?”

“I’m a very good cook,” I say with pride. “But you don’t know where I live.”

“I know we live in the same time zone. At worst, it’s a short flight. At best, we live a few miles apart.” He takes one of my hands in his and kisses the back of it. “The day after tomorrow, I’m going to another island for Ian’s wedding, but I’ll be home two days before I start my new job.”

“Just two days? You’re flying to the Northeast in January, remember? Hopefully, the weather cooperates."

“What if I told you that I’m going to find you when I get back?” he asks, and my heart skips a beat.

I won’t lie to myself. I want him to find me. I want to see if this connection is a mirage or just a result of being away from home.

“Or, I can give you my name,” I say, deciding at this moment to see where this goes once we leave this island.

“No. Don’t do that. I want to show you how fast I can find you. Your real name and address. When a man wants a woman, he’ll stop at nothing.”

Part of me wonders if this is just a trick. If he has no intention of doing what he just said, but I don’t believe that. He could take my name and number and still ghost me. He’s spent all his days and nights with me practically all week. He holds me in his arms all night long, and I don’t want that to end. Not when I know we live in the same state.

“And what if you can’t find me?” I ask.

“I will.” He kisses the back of my hand again. “I promise.”

“And what happens if you do find me?” I ask. My heart hammers in my chest, and that surprises me. I’m not one of those girls who loses her mind over a man. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, and I’ve experienced so much disappointment in my life that I don’t let anyone get close.

“WhenI find you in the real world, I’m going to keep you. It won’t matter if we live in the same state or not. All I know is I won’t let you go. Will you let me keep you?”

“I will. I promise,” I say, throwing his words back in his face. Then he kisses me so deeply that I forget everything. Without breaking the kiss, he pulls me on top of him. His beard, which has grown in the five days since I first laid eyes on him, scratches my face. I love the sensation.

“I want to make love to you,” he says against my mouth.

“I want that too.” He reaches for the condom, and instead of letting me put it on tonight, he does it himself. He puts me on my back and sticks his arm underneath my knee, spreading me apart before sliding inside of me.

My head sinks into the pillow, and I close my eyes. If this is the last time for the next two weeks, I want to remember every moment. Every touch. Every sound. I want to remember the feel and smell of his skin. I want to remember the sound of his voice when he moans'my Honeybee.' I want to remember the feeling of his silky hair underneath my fingers. I want to remember how he holds me through my orgasms and how he tells me I’m beautiful when I come. I want every time that he’s lifted me off my feet sealed in my memory. I want to remember the exact blue of his eyes and the feel of his hand in mine.

He loves me slowly. He loves me like no man ever has before him, and I let go and allow him to. His firm lips land on mine.

“Mmhmm,” I moan. “Colin,” I say and he not only deepens the kiss, but he thrusts further inside of me. It’s as if he can never get enough. Like he can’t get far enough inside of me. The orgasm doesn’t build and crash like the other nights. It takes me by surprise and by such force that my vision blurs and I see white stars.

I start to tremble, and like every time, he holds me. He kisses my lips, my neck, and my cheeks.

“So beautiful,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Honeybee. I have you, baby,” he says as I continue to shudder. He thrusts inside of me again before he goes still and starts to moan.

This time, it’s me who holds him through his orgasm and plant kisses on his forehead. It’s like his climax is never-ending. Our bodies are held together by our sweat. The base of his neck is damp, and I massage his scalp. He stays inside of me. It takes him a couple of minutes to soften and slide out. When he does, he removes the condom, ties it, and throws it on the floor. I know we’ll make love at least one more time tonight, maybe two more times if I’m lucky. But tonight, I can’t stay. I still have to pack before leaving early in the morning.

---