Page 82 of Take Me
I’m clenching around him, so close to the edge that my mind starts to blur.It’s a jumbled-up mess of bright lights and color, of emotions I’m too scared to name.
As pleasure engulfs me, I arch up and call out his name.“Mason, I love y—” I stop myself just in time.“—your body.I love your body.”I cry out again as the waves pull me under.
He lets out a roar, and I’m thankful we’re so much in sync that he drowns out the words I’ve just said.I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pretend nothing’s changed.
We’re panting and flushed as we untangle our limbs.I’m praying like mad he didn’t hear me.That I saved us in time by pretending these feelings are nothing but lust.
“You okay?”
I’m face down on his chest as I nod.“Just catching my breath.”
“That was… different.”
What does he mean?“Yeah.”I just need to ask.“Different how?”
“Intense.”His chest starts to quiver, and for a terrified instant, I think he’s crying.
“Yep.”Stroking my back, he continues.“That was some record-breaking, grade-A, world-class sex.The stuff of legends, honestly.Olympic-caliber.”
Laughter.Mason’s laughing.
Thank God.
Lighthearted Mason rides to the rescue again.I smile as I tickle my way down his stomach.
“Do you think we should dress for the news crews?”When he doesn’t respond, I lift my head off his chest.“I assume they’ll be filming when they come to present us with the gold medals.”
“Absolutely.”He grins and starts stroking my hair.“And they’re gonna want interviews.”
“It’s not every day the world record gets broken for mattress dancing.”
“You think they’ll hold a parade?”
“They’ll throw penis confetti like we had at Zoe’s bachelorette party.”
“Gotta get vagina confetti, too.”He’s caressing my back, long gentle strokes with his palm.“You were at least half the reason the earth moved.”
“Thanks.”I try to come up with another wry quip.Something to distance me from the emotions still surging inside me.“You think they’ll put a plaque on the house?”
“Probably.”
“We’ll need to get two.One for here, and one for my place.”
His hand stills on my back.“When are you thinking you’ll move back?”
I can’t tell from his tone how he means it.Surely he’s ready to reclaim his own space.“The roofing crew thinks they’ll be done by next Monday.”
“That soon.”The hand on my back begins moving again.“That seems fast.”
“I guess we can wait to break up.”I manage a quivery laugh.“Wouldn’t want to put a damper on all the new marriages by splitting the second your sister leaves for her honeymoon.”
“Yeah.That makes sense.”
“So maybe a week or two after that?”
He doesn’t respond right away.What is he thinking?Did I just kill the mood?It feels like my heart blurted something so real and so raw that the rest of me rushed in to patch it withjust-kiddingBand-Aids.
Mason’s gone quiet, maybe conked out from sex and the wedding excitement.When his voice fills my ears, he sounds far away.Like he’s hovering right on the edge of sleep.
