Page 193 of Love in Riverbend
As I start to pull out, her smile fades.
“Talk to me,” I say. “You can always talk to me.”
“Is this real, or on Monday will it be over now that we did this?”
Pulling out, I reach for her and roll us until she’s over me. My still-erect dick is sandwiched between us, and she’s lying between my legs. I frame her beautiful face with the palms of my hands. “If you think I’d do that, that I’d leave you because I got what I wanted, you don’t know me.”
She tips her forehead to my shoulder. “I don’t want to think that way.”
I lift her face. “Here’s the thing, Devan. I like—okay, more than like—what I just got, but that doesn’t mean I’ve gotten what I want from you.”
“What do you want?”
“Only forever. And it will take a long time for me to get that. The only way this, between us, is ending is if you think I’m too clingy and you walk away.”
Devan lays her head on my shoulder. “Forever?”
I nod.
When she lifts her head and our gazes meet, her stunning smile is back. “I don’t mind clingy if it’s someone I want to be with.”
“Do you want to be with me?” I ask.
“Only forever.”
I read about the amenities of the West Baden Hotel. Other than Saturday night’s dinner at Sinclair’s, the amenity we enjoyed the most was room service. Just because this was Devan’s first time, it didn’t stop her from it being her second, third, fourth…I lost count. We spent our getaway doing more than simple sex.
Lying naked, we fed one another grapes and French fries—dipped in mayo. And it wasn’t gross. We showered together, only for that to culminate in Devan’s first experience at shower sex. The nights and days melded together as one of us would wake the other with kisses and caresses. When I packed, I never expected to run out of condoms.
I didn’t, but it was close.
On Sunday morning, we looked around the room.
“I hear it’s a nice hotel,” I say.
Devan laughs. “I guess we could have gone back to Bloomington.”
I shake my head, snaking my arm around her and pulling her to me. “Do you know how many people have lost their virginity in the Gordon hayloft?”
“Is there an actual registry somewhere?”
“No.” I swat her round ass—something I learned she doesn’t hate.
“Hey.”
“You love my hand on your ass.”
Pink fills her cheeks. “I do. Now back to your statement. Am I supposed to calculate throughout time or in the last decade? Do you know when the barn was built?”
Snagging her chin, I bring her lips to mine. “The question was rhetorical.”
Her lips curl. “Oh, well, then no. I don’t know.”
“I didn’t want that for you. You saved a wonderful part of yourself and chose to share it with me.” I look around the room. “I wanted it to be special.”
Devan leans into me. “It was but not because of the room. It was special because of you.”
“Good,” I say. “Since we’re headed back to Riverbend where neither of us have our own place, we may end up in the hayloft.”
