Page 41 of Beauty
“I’ve never been inside anyone bare.” The words practically claw their way out of me.
Her breathing hitches. “Good. I’ve never gone without a condom either.”
We stare at one another as I hold her close, the water lapping against us. This isn’t fucking. Not a single moment of it is for that type of pleasure, yet this is the most satisfying moment of my life.
Just being inside Sienna is heaven. Knowing that I’m giving her the same comfort—the same pleasure—alters my brain chemistry.
She tips her head back, face turned to the night sky, as I hold her in the water. “I’m not ready to leave,” she whispers, almost like she’s telling the universe though and not me.
Emotion floods me as I stare at her. She’s lying back, arms outstretched, her nipples breaching the surf, the long lines of her hips disappearing where they meet mine. How could the universe introduce me to this perfect woman, and then take her away?
“If you could have anything,” I ask, “what would it be?”
She arches up, grasping my shoulders, and presses a kiss to my lips. “I’d want people to know me for who I am rather than because of my family name.”
And what is that family name?
It takes everything in me not to ask.
“I’d want a little boutique in Boston, maybe.”
“What kind of boutique?”
She shakes her head, brushing her nose against mine. “We’re not supposed to tell each other what we do.”
As she moves, her pussy clenches around me, pulling a moan from deep in my chest.
“Fuck, baby. I don’t care about our rules. I just want—I need?—”
She bites down on my lip and tugs. “You need whatever I give you.”
Heat sears through me, along with amusement. Is she seriously using my own words against me again?
“I’m going to miss you,” I croak. It’s the most honest admission I’ve ever made.
She ghosts her lips over mine. “What about you? What would your life look like if you could have anything?”
The moment she asks, an intense vision hits me, nearly knocking beneath the surf. In it, a brick home set on a rolling hill. Walking distance to downtown Boston. A little boy smiling up at me. My wife standing in the doorway with her hand on her rounded belly.
Sienna.
That’s what I picture. A life with her. Not hockey. Not saying goodbye to her.
Shit.
Chest tight, I force the words out, taking my time to keep my voice from shaking. “A family. My mom passed when I was a baby, so I missed out on a lot. But I’d really like to have that. Children, a home.”
She strokes my cheek, studying every inch of my face. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “I don’t remember her. And I have a great dad.”
She nibbles on her lip, her attention drifting. “I hope you find it. What you want. I hope you get that family.”
“I hope you get your boutique.”
I want to tell her I could have all those things, that I could give her everything she wants, but none of her woes are caused by a shortage of money. That’s not the issue, so mine can’t solve her problems. She has a vision, a hunger for a career. She has a plan, and she’s set to dive into it next week. She’s just beginning. I can’t keep her from chasing those dreams.
She brings her lips to mine, and as she deepens the kiss, she silently tells me she wants all of it too. She wants a future, she wants those dreams.
