Page 584 of One More Kiss

Chapter10

Rexton

The morning lightdances across the room. I look down at Scarlett. She’s wrapped around me like ivy. Her hair is splayed out over my chest and the sunlight catches some red highlights in it. I take a few strands and swirl them around my finger. She doesn’t wake but she makes a small whimpering sound in her sleep.

I tighten my hold on her and she settles back. Her soft breaths are the only thing filling the quiet morning.

A sadness creeps over me. In a few hours, she’ll go one way and I’ll go another. This has been the most unexpected and glorious ending to my trip. Last night, we decided to go to London together this morning. We’ll part ways when I head to the airport. These delays have sucked up the one day I had planned to spend there. I suppose that means I should come back sometime. I’ll have to bring Ginger. She’d love it here. I look back down at Scarlett. She’d love Scarlett. Over the past few days, I’ve learned that Scarlett loves sappy romantic movies just like my sister and they also share a deep love of chocolate and coffee, which both prefer dark.

Scarlett and I, though, we are complete opposites, yet we share this crazy connection because of our past tragedies. The women I’ve dated always avoided talking about my parents as if discussing their deaths would ruin the mood. Scarlett doesn’t shy away from it. She doesn’t shy away from talking about her father either. It’s cathartic to be able to speak openly with someone who isn’t a therapist, not that I’d go to a therapist. I had one friend say I should go, but all the rest have always told me it’s a waste of time. Scarlett said therapy helped her, but I think I just needed to talk to Scarlett. She’s like a decade of therapy rolled up into one small spitfire of sass and sexiness.

She stirs and I watch as her eyes open. Her body stretches like a cat’s as she focuses on my face and gives me a slow sexy grin.

“Good morning,” she whispers.

I pull her up my body and kiss her. She’s not like the pretentious women I’ve slept with before, she doesn’t shy away and say she has morning breath as if I care. Instead, she kisses me back until we’re both panting.

I reach over and hold up the last condom. “One for the road?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

She laughs and makes quick work of putting it on me before sinking down inch by inch until she’s completely impaled by me.

I watch where our bodies are joined. Fuck, that’s hot.

I move her on me slowly, we take our time until we both need it faster and harder. She changes her pace, and we go flying over the edge together in one glorious moment. I can’t take my eyes off her face as I watch her come. I want to commit it to memory, so I can envision it every time I jerk off for the rest of my life.

She falls on my chest as her body relaxes and we lie there, still connected, letting our bodies come down from their highs.

“We should get going,” I finally state.

She nods. “I know, just one more second, OK?”

I laugh. “OK, buttercup, one more second.”

She traces the outline of one of my tattoos and we lie there for several minutes until she sits up and gazes down at me. “I’m going to miss you.”

I cup her face in my hand and run a thumb over her lips. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

She climbs off me and we get showered and dressed. We find a small café down the street and grab a quick breakfast before heading to the train station. We hold hands as we wait for the train and then board it. I glance down and watch as I run my thumb over the back of her hand. Why does her hand look so right encased in mine?

The train pulls up to the station and I help her get her bags on board before we find seats. She insists that I have the window seat.

“You may never get back here. Watch and enjoy it,” she insists as she leans her head on my shoulder.

I turn and kiss her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin against my lips. I inhale her scent. She closes her eyes and smiles.

“When do you leave again?” I ask.

“Day after tomorrow. When’s your flight?” she inquires as she leans her head back to look at me.

“This evening,” I state.

She sighs. “I wish we had longer.”

“Me too.” I want to say that we could see each other at home but then I remember all of the complications that await me there. We’re still almost an hour away from each other. I have a business I’m trying to build. I’d never have time to see her. She deserves so much better than that. Although I want so badly to, I’d be a selfish ass to keep her.

“Maybe we’ll see each other again someday,” she says. “We aren’t that far away from one another.”

“True.” I stop it at that. Why would she want to continue this? She’s seen that I’m damaged goods. Good sex can’t overcome that. And just because we connect on a vacation, doesn’t mean that equals a perfect long-term relationship. Hell, am I even ready to have a long-term relationship? It’s been years and I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been a shitty boyfriend. I work long hours. I get easily frustrated.

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