Page 25 of A Season of Second Chances
"Winter..." There are tears in her eyes again.
"I'm not done." I move closer, my free hand coming up to cup her face. "Dammit, I know there's a good chance we don't have a future. I know you might leave tomorrow and I might never see you again. But if that's how this ends, I want one more memory with you. One that's just ours, not tangled up with the past or worried about the future. Just us, right now, in this moment."
Her breath hitches. "What are you asking for?"
"I'm asking if you want to come upstairs with me. To your room." I stroke my thumb across her cheek, watching her eyes darken. "I'm asking for one more night where we can pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist. Where it's just you and me, the way it used to be."
She's quiet for so long I think she's going to say no. I'm preparing myself for the rejection, for her to pull away and tell me it's a bad idea, that we shouldn't complicate things further.
But then she nods, so slightly I almost miss it. "Okay."
"Okay?" I need to be sure, need to know she really wants this.
"Okay," she says more firmly. She stands up, holding out her hand to me. "Let's make one more memory."
I tangle our fingers together and lead her through the lobby, past the front desk, and up the stairs to the guest room she's been staying in. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure she can hear it. When we reach her door, I pause, giving her one more chance to change her mind.
She doesn't. Instead, she unlocks the door and pulls me inside.
The moment the door closes behind us, everything changes. The tension that's been building between us all day breaks, and suddenly we're kissing like we have all the time in the world and nothing to lose.
Her lips are hungry, her taste deeper than usual. My hands find her waist, pulling her closer, and she responds by threading her fingers through my hair. It's desperate and passionate, everything I've ever wanted from her.
"Winter," she breathes against my mouth when we finally break apart. "I've missed this. I've missed you. I know I said it before, but you have to know how much."
"I've missed you too," I tell her, kissing her again, softer this time. "So damn much."
I'm going to miss you when you leave. But she can't hear that.
We move toward the bed, shedding layers as we go. My shirt, her sweater, each piece of clothing falling away until we're left in just left in our underwear. The room is warm from the small fireplace in the corner, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
I lay her back on the bed gently, taking a moment just to look at her. She's even more beautiful than I remember, and I want to memorize every detail. The curve of her hip, the freckle on her shoulder, the way her hair fans out across the pillow.
"You're staring," she says, but she's smiling.
"Can you blame me? I gotta get some memories to make it through the next ten years." I lean down to kiss her collarbone, feeling her shiver beneath me. "I might never get to see you like this again."
Her hands slide up my back, pulling me closer. "I thought about this. About you. More times than I want to admit."
"Yeah?" I kiss my way up her neck, feeling her pulse racing under my lips. "What did you think about?"
"Everything." Her voice is breathy now, her hips shifting restlessly beneath me. "The way you used to touch me. The way you made me feel. Like I was the only person in the world when I was on top or underneath you."
"You were," I tell her honestly, pulling back to look into her eyes. "You still are."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she's smiling as she pulls me down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with all the emotion I've been holding back. If I want her to trust me enough to stay, I have to trust her enough to let myself be vulnerable with her.
We take our time, both of us knowing this could be our last time together. Every touch counts, every kiss is deeper than the last.
When we finally come together, it's perfect. She fits against me like she was made for this, for us, and for a moment I let myself believe that maybe we really can find our way back to each other.
"Winter," she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Don't stop."
"Never," I promise, even though we both know I can't keep it. "I'll never stop. Fucking dig those nails in, let me wear the badge of your passion for as long as I can."
We move together, finding a steady rhythm. We're shaking the bed against the wall, both groaning and moaning as I press my knees against the mattress. With this leverage, I can swing my hips into her, press my cock as deeply inside as I can get. Her body responds to mine like we're meant for each other. I so desperately want that to be true.
When we finally reach that peak together, she cries out my name, and I bury my face in her neck, breathing in her scent, trying to commit every sensation to memory, as I spill deep inside her body. For a moment I hope this gets her pregnant, and that she can't leave, but I know that's not fair.
