Page 78 of Conception
Knox’s lips brush my forehead; then he uses his fists to push off the bed. The loss of his strength covering me sends shivers down my spine. I watch the muscles bunch in his back until he disappears into the bathroom.
I’m a motionless mess with unexpected turmoil waging battle within me. This is it. Our final night together. I knew it was approaching, all too quickly. I just didn’t have any clue the agony I’d face knowing I may never see him again.
Feel him again.
I don’t want him to go. I can’t ask him to stay.
As far as futures go, ours don’t align. He knows what he wants. It’s rooted in Tennessee.
I’d rather go as far away as possible.
At least, I thought I did. Until I met him. Now I’m not so sure anymore.
Before I can dwell any further, Knox returns and cleans me up, rewarding me with another sweet kiss to my lips before heading back out of sight to presumably take care of himself. It’s all I can do not to throw my arms around him, wanting another round, another set of memories to make, to replay over and over again. But I resist and wrap myself up in the sheets, amazed at how one can feel so cold during a historic heatwave.
I guess that’s what loss does to you.
My mind’s running in overdrive, not wanting to think that this is our last time together. Yet how can I think of anything else? I have to get used to it. Easier said than done.
Incandescent heat courses through me when Knox comes out of the bathroom, his nude body showcased in the moonlight. He lies down on the bed, rolls me onto my side, and draws me into his body. His arm curls around my waist, his fingers running idly over my belly. We lie in the dark silence, yet so much torment hangs in the air.
“I didn’t know what to expect when I came to Crystal Cove this summer. The last thing I expected was you. But I’m so damn happy I found you,” he whispers before pressing a kiss behind my ear.
Cue the shivers once again.
My breath catches at his words. Tight knots form in the pit of my stomach. I’m unsure of how to respond. How to proceed. I want to tell him I feel the same. I want to tell him I feel so much more.
“Knox” I breathe, but he brings a finger to my lips.
“I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, babe.”
His admission is a balm to my equally melting and fracturing heart. This is a first for me. I’ve never felt this way about a man. I revel in his close proximity, yet I already feel his loss. But how can you miss someone who isn’t gone yet?
I crane my neck and look back, searching his eyes for something, anything else, but he gives me nothing. I take it as dismissal of any other possible feelings. So I bottle up my own and tuck them deep down inside me, praying fervently they won’t rise to the surface any time soon. Or at least until he’s gone.
“I’ll miss you, too.”
He offers me a gentle smile. He turns the lamp off then settles in behind me, folding me into his arms. I sink into his embrace, tucked in with the knowledge that I may never sleep in his arms again. Even though we’ve done this countless times, there’s a dark cloud hanging over us.
Or, well, me.
The room’s silent save for the sound of distant thunder and rain pattering against my bedroom window. I’ve been so focused on Knox that I haven’t been bothered by the storm raging outside. For the first time since my parents died, it doesn’t bother me. It’s nothing compared to the hurricane battering my heart.
My therapist will have a field day with this one, and even though I know I shouldn’t ignore the implications, I do. I can’t examine why he makes me feels safer than I’ve felt in years. I know if I do, I won’t be able to let him go.
And I have to. Even if it kills me.
Knox must sense my restlessness. He coaxes me until I’m facing him. A sturdy hand palms my cheek, and I turn into it, basking in his warmth. He claims my mouth in a long, drugging kiss, his tongue seductive and searching until he finds his target. Hot moisture springs in my eyes, and as Knox starts to pull away, I push him onto his back and shimmy down the bed to take him into my mouth. The harsh rush of breath heightens my arousal. I take my time staking my own claim.
All’s fair in love sex and war, right?
If I’m wreckage, I want Knox in ruin before he walks away.
For the rest of the night, we’re wrapped up in each other. Gone is the frenetic need of earlier. We’re slow and sweet. Sensual and possessive. Greedily devouring each other until we’re so far gone that I don’t know where I end and Knox begins.
There are no words other than whispered reverence.
There’s no room for conversation. There’s nothing left to say.
