Page 19 of A Season of Second Chances
"Yeah," I answer hoarsely. "It'll be perfect for her."
My stare must unnerve her because her smile falters. "It's okay, right? That I give it to her. If you don't want me to..."
I cut her off by lurching forward, framing her face with my palms, and covering her mouth with mine. She makes a cute noise in the back of her throat as I take this kiss. Every bit of missing her, wanting her, and even hating her for leaving me. All of it goes into the desire I have to give her every piece of me in this one gesture. For a moment, we pull apart, and stare at one another. Then it's as if lightning strikes between us. Her fingers tangle in my hair and she tugs me toward her as our lips clash together again.
This is what I've been waiting for. What I've been dreaming about since the moment she walked back into my life. Hell, if I'm being honest, it's what I've dreamed about every night for the past ten years. In those dreams, she never left. In those dreams, we built this life together; the lodge, Alana, everything.
"Winter," she breathes against my mouth, and the sound of my name on her lips makes my cock harder than it's been in years.
I slide into the booth beside her, pulling her onto my lap so she's straddling me. Her hands are everywhere. Running over my shoulders, my chest, sliding under my hoodie to touch bare skin. I groan at the contact, at how right this feels after so damn long. It's been a long time since the two of us have been together, but it's been a long time since I've been with anyone, period. Not since I was with Starla.
"Is this okay?" I manage to ask, even though my body is screaming at me to not stop, to keep going.
"Yes," she whispers, her forehead pressed against mine. "God, yes."
I capture her mouth again, deeper this time, my hands sliding down to grip her hips. She rocks against me and I have to press my feet against the floor and tighten my core to keep from coming. This is better than any dream, any memory. This is real, she's here, and she wants this as much as I do.
My hoodie comes off first, then her sweater. The glitter from her craft project is stuck to both of us, shimmering in the low light of the dining room, and somehow that makes it even better. I press my thumb into some of it on her chest, and spread it across her bare skin, watching as it lights the way to where her breasts are encased by her bra.
"I've thought about this," I confess against her neck as I trail kisses down to her collarbone. "Every day since you left. Every single day, Joy. More than I should, I've jacked off to memories of you and me, it's the only thing that's gotten me through." My face burns as I admit this secret about what my life has been like.
"Me too," she admits, and the confession nearly undoes me. "I tried not to, but I did."
Her leggings are next, and then we're fumbling with the rest of our clothes like the teenagers we were who don't know what we were doing. Except we do know, now. And I've realized a lot over the past ten years. We've always known each other, even after all this time. Some things you don't forget.
Reaching down in between us, her hand wraps around my cock, causing me to groan deep in my throat. "Be careful, it won't take much for me to explode," I warn her, closing my eyes as I enjoy her touch.
"You feel so good," she moans, collecting fluid leaking out of the tip and rubbing it in with her thumb. "I can't wait to feel you inside me again."
I can't wait for it either. Moving my hand down her body, I tuck in between her thighs, rubbing at her entrance. She throws her head back as I pull my hand up, put two fingers into my mouth and then use them to prime her entrance. She swallows roughly, her knees moving up and down.
"Please, please, Winter," she begs.
"Do we need protection?" I question urgently, praying we don't. I absolutely do not have it.
She shakes her head. "We're good, and I trust you."
That trust is going to be my undoing. Removing my hand from between her thighs, I bring it up behind her neck, and force her eyes to meet mine as I position at her entrance, and then give it over to her.
When she sinks down onto me, we both freeze, just breathing, just feeling. This is what I've been missing. Not just the physical part, but the connection, the way she looks at me like I'm the only person in the world.
"God, I missed you," I groan as she starts to move.
"I'm here," she whispers, cupping my face. "I'm right here."
We find our rhythm quickly, like no time has passed at all. The booth isn't ideal, we're cramped and have to be creative with angles, but it almost makes it hotter. I'd take her anywhere, any way I could have her.
This is how I always imagined my life would go. Me and Joy, building a life together, creating a family, growing old in Pine Ridge. I imagined lazy Sunday mornings and chaotic weekday rushes. I imagined her belly big with our child, imagined teaching our kids to ski, imagined Christmas mornings just like this one where we'd be too excited to sleep because we couldn't wait to see our children's faces.
Life didn't go that way. But right now, with her in my arms, with her gasping my name, I can almost pretend it did. I can almost pretend the last ten years didn't happen, that she never left, that this is just another Christmas Eve where we snuck away to steal a moment for ourselves.
"Winter," she moans, and the sound shoots straight through me.
"I've got you," I tell her, my hands steady on her hips, guiding her movements as we thrust and grind against each other. "I've always got you, Joy."
When she comes apart in my arms, I follow right behind her, burying my face in her neck to muffle the sound. For a long moment, we just hold each other, breathing hard, hearts pounding in sync.
"That was..." she starts, but doesn't finish.
