Page 128 of Beautifully Messy
He groans, his hands tightening on my hips. “This… is my breaking point.”
Slowly, I lower onto him, inch by inch. I feel every place where we become one, the exquisite stretch of my body accommodating him. A gasp spills from my lips.
“I may have overestimated those ten seconds. You feel—” He groans,voice wrecked.
“Save the grand declarations for after. I need you to move.”
But he doesn’t. His hand slips between us, rubbing me with firm, steady pressure. Each stroke winds me closer to the edge, until pleasure fractures through me in waves I can’t contain. Then his control finally breaks. With a guttural groan, he thrusts up into me, burying himself deep. He presses his face in my neck, groaning a breathless,“holy shit,”as he follows me over the edge.
Tangled in sheets that smell of candle wax, sweat, and us—we stare. Breathe. A tear slips free. I trace his dimple with my fingertip as he wipes it away.
“I don’t think a hundred years together would be enough.” I sigh and relax into his arms.
“Hmmm. This Sydney, all sweet and cuddly, is new. Where did your claws go?” He pulls me close, my back to his chest, his hands gliding down my stomach.
“Multiple orgasms will do that.” I laugh, then reach an arm around him, digging my nails into his back. “Want my claws to come out?”
“We may be forty, but I hope you’re not planning on getting much sleep tonight.”
“Hmmm. Anna will probably come looking for us eventually,” I murmur, distracted by the path of his fingers.
“Will it be okay if I’m here? In bed with you?” He nips my ear and presses against me, already half-hard.
“Yes, love. We’ll explain it if she asks. But she didn’t seem to be troubled today.” I turn to face him, needing to see his eyes for this moment. “I know technically we’ve only been together for a few days… I don’t want to scare you. But I can’t spend any more time apart. I don’t know what that means with you in Boston and me in D.C. until everything is finalized.”
“Sydney, I don’t give a damn if it’s been three days or three decades. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll come to you. I can work remotely, and we can figure out the details from there. Together.”
I kiss his temple, his dimple, down to his neck.
“I’ve spent my whole life waiting to feel like I was enough for someone to love. I didn’t think I could trust anyone to be there when I turned around.”
“Turn around all you want,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll still be here.”
He closes his mouth over mine, and we don’t talk for a while.
When exhaustion claims us, he slips his T-shirt over my head and pulls on sleep pants. I drift off into a deep, completely satisfied sleep, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, our arms and limbs tangled together.
Sunlight reflects off the snow-covered tree tops, waking me to the stir of a small body nestled at my front, and solid warmth pressed to my back. Anna joined us as I predicted. James drapes his arm over us. I sigh with contentment, and Anna snuggles deeper into the warmth until realization hits.
She shoots up, eyes wide. “Is Unca J gonna live with us?”
The question is so straightforward in the way only children can be.
“Would that be okay with you if he did?”
“Yes! This is the best!” she squeals, bouncing on the bed, her nightgown twirling with her.
He chuckles, his voice thick with sleep as he presses a kiss to the back of my neck. Anna jumps between us, laughing and demanding attention. James leans over and tickles her until she’s wriggling like a fish out of water. The sound of her giggles is a perfect soundtrack to this new beginning.
She escapes his grasp, bouncing across the bed. Life with a three-year-old leaves no room for mornings spent tangled in sheets. Anna, fully awake and ready to conquer the day, has no patience for her lovestruck mama and Unca J.
James tosses me some leggings from the floor, and I slip them on. “Come on, Bug. Let’s get some breakfast.”
I start the coffee and place a quick order for room service. Through the open bedroom door, I admire James sprawled in bed, one hand scrubbing his face, the other reaching for the spot still warm from my body. He catches my eye and gives me a slow, sleepy smile.
Anna starts jumping on the pullout bed. Laughing and throwing her toys in the air, she twirls in delight. I watch her joy and smile. I should tell her to stop, but seeing her this free, I don’t want to clip her wings or ask her to be quieter or smaller. I want her to live big—even if that means jumping on the furniture.
“Who’s making all that racket?” James stands in the doorway of the room, a scowl on his face.
