Page 42 of Over You
“I’m still madly in love with you.” His lips pressed to mine. Soft. Apologetic, and just like every time he touched me like this, I went limp. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth, and the last bit of restraint I possessed broke like a dam.
The kiss deepened on a hard breath. My fingers scratched into his thick hair. With each swipe of his tongue, the passion grew angry and savage. It was a physical expression of a year’s worth of hurt and longing, of I hate that I still love yous. It was a sunrise and a sunset at the same time, and I told myself nothing would come from this. Because it couldn’t, even if I was drunk on the memory of us and the feeling that the entire world could collapse and I wouldn’t care. It could go no farther than this goodbye kiss.
His lips traveled to the crook of my neck. “I’ve missed you every damn day.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Those words fell from my lips like poisoned fruit.
In a matter of seconds, he’d scooped me into his arms and carted me out of the kitchen and up the stairs, his mouth never leaving mine.
My back hit the mattress. His shirt came off. Heated kisses traveled across my throat as he worked his way to the low collar of my dress. The fingers of both his hands laced through mine, trapping me to the bed. The last time I had been touched was the day in our kitchen when he’d made all those promises he had subsequently broken. Want built between my legs—anticipation. I didn’t have to imagine what was headed my way. I knew. God. I knew.
“Tell me again,” he mumbled against my throat. “Tell me you miss me.”
“I miss you,” I breathed.
He shoved the stretchy material of the dress beneath my breasts. The air caused the skin around my nipple to tighten just before he sucked it into his mouth.
Within minutes, we’d undressed each other, ripping and tearing our clothes like they were toxic.
Bare skin to bare skin. Lips to lips. His hand crept across my stomach to the apex of my thigh. I dropped one knee to the side, making myself available to him.
Foreheads together, our gazes locked while he slipped one then two fingers inside me. His teeth sank into my bottom lip on a deep, “Fuck. ..”
My heels dug into the mattress, and I squirmed from the welcomed intrusion. The piece of me that would forever bear the scars of our love begged me to stop him, but my heart pleaded for him to go faster. He was the one thing I couldn’t say no to. My vice. And like an addict, with Spencer, it only took one slip up, and I knew I’d drive myself to the brink of death to have him again and again.
Loving him had been a craving I’d managed to ignore, but I couldn’t take the withdrawals any longer. “Please,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Not yet.” His fingers dipped in and out with leisure, his thumb making circles over sensitive skin. I went to grab him. He nudged my hand away. “This is only about you.”
I took in each touch while telling myself this did not mean forever. This was a day. A moment. A taste of what forever would have been like with him. . . And then I lost myself, focusing on how he still knew my body like the strings of his guitar.
My nails dug into his shoulder when his mouth moved between my thighs. His lips felt like fire, hot and consuming on my sensitive skin. “I’ve missed all of this.”
Within seconds, I was at the brink. Heart pounding, body buzzing. Nothing more than instinctual needs. My back bowed away from the bed. My fingers threaded through his thick hair. “Stop. Stop. Stop.” I yanked my hips away from him and pulled on his shoulders. “I wantyou.”
Smiling, he leaned over the side of the bed to grab his jeans from the floor. He pulled out a condom, tearing the foil before he sat on his knees. That was something we had never used. Not once, and I pushed down the sick feeling twisting my gut, telling myself to focus on him.
On this.
On us.
Not on who either of us may have become in the last year. . .
His eyes locked with mine when he moved between my legs. “Promise you won’t hate me tomorrow?”
“I’ll only hate you if you don’t.”
His weight settled between my thighs. Then he was there, pressing his way in slowly. His arms slipped underneath my back. He held me tight and close while he worked his way deeper only to painstakingly pull out. His head dropped into the crook of my neck on a groan when he drove back in. I fought the fissures tearing through my heart.
For a few, silent moments, neither of us moved like breathing was the only thing we could manage.
“I need you, Georgia Anne.” His mouth covered mine once more, and we became a mess of tangled limbs and sweat-slicked skin.
A symphony of heavy breaths between I’m sorries and I love yous andplease. God. Please.And after the tension broke into bliss-filled moans and nails digging into backs, when my body felt like gravity had given up on me, I laid beside him, wishing he was still my forever.
The sunlightno longer poured through the window, and the song of crickets crept through the crack in the pane. Spencer’s fingers danced along the curve of my hip. I stared at our reflection in my dresser mirror. Sticky from sex, naked, and wrapped up in each other. For a moment, it was like nothing had ever gone wrong. This moment was a beautiful rose in the middle of a briar patch that I wanted so badly to pick, knowing I couldn’t come away unscathed.
“You remember how we used to race each other to the steps when we lived in Hacienda Apartments?” He traced a heart over my back.
