There wasn't nearly enough contact. Desperate for friction, they ground into each other. Mouths roaming, pelvises rocking in tandem. With the way things were going, it was nothing short of a miracle that either of them had survived the summer off of their own touch.
Olivia swallowed back a moan.
"Let me hear you." His hands were under her shirt, his mouth behind her ear. Every last nerve ending buzzed from the stimulation. She felt dizzy.
"We need to go somewhere," she whispered.
"Liv?"
That wasn't his voice.
"Shit." Shoving his body off of her, she quickly combed her fingers through her curls, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. In a frenzy, she tossed a pillow into his lap. "Yeah?"
Laura peeked into the room. "Oh, Spence. I didn't know you were still here."
"Yes, ma'am. Liv and I were just... talking." Getting stuck on his tongue, the word came out sounding foreign.
Laura looked skeptically between the two teenagers, one standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, the other leaning into a pillow like his life depended on it. "I was just going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie with Jordan and I. Everyone's heading out."
Olivia's hand flung out in a poor attempt at casual. "Oh, I think I'm just going to call it a night. I'm tired."
"Mhm. We'll catch one another time then."
As the door eased shut, Olivia tossed out a "love you!" for good measure.
Neither of them moved until there was zero question that they were the only ones left upstairs. A tiny giggle sputtered through her lips before bursting into a full-fledge fit. She pulled at his wrist, tugging him off the bed. "We have to go." His hands gravitated to her ass, and her head fell back at the night's possibilities. "Your place. Now."
"You headed out?"
At the sound of her brother's voice, she looked up from her rummaging in the fridge. He was walking out of the pantry with a fresh trash bag.
"Oh." Jordan's tone flattened as Spencer came around the corner, his hand instinctively going for her waist.
"You're not going back to the beach house tonight, are you?" she asked sweetly.
Jordan swiped a pile of paper plates into the bag. "Not anymore, I'm not."
"Great." She grinned. "Love you!"
"Already coming back traumatizing the boy," Spencer chuckled as she tugged him into the cool night. Fingers interlaced, she walked ahead of him. A renewed pep in her step.
"Because I have plans that involve you and no one else."
"What if I have other plans?"
She turned slowly. "And what are your plans?"
"What if I wanted to watch a movie? Get a good night's rest?"
She cocked her head, her eyes dancing in their sockets. "Do you really?"
He stepped closer, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. "Yeah. I can wake up early. Call everyone back over for brunch."
"Mhm." She nodded slowly, playing along as if it were the perfect plan. "And then what?"
"We can go for a walk along the beach," he murmured, his lips descending down to her neck. "You like the beach."
"I do," she agreed, letting him kiss up her jaw.
"You can bring a book while I go for a run. Then I'll come back and lay with you."
"Mhm," she hummed, bringing her lips to his ear, her fingers tiptoeing up his chest. "And at what point in this little plan of yours do we fuck?"
His words slipped out just as his teeth sunk into her skin. "In between everything else."
The entire ride to the beach house, Olivia rotated through placements of his right hand. On her lap. Between her palms. At her lips. Each spot getting attention, and his poor arm flinging around, victim to the whiplash.
"You make up your mind yet?" he asked when she completed her fourth go around.
A wicked grin danced on his lips. But she could see from the crinkle in his eyes as he watched the road that he was content. So undeniably content.
"Sorry," she mumbled, her lips pressing kisses against his knuckles, keeping them warm after a long and lonely summer. "I'll stop."
He stole a glance her way, his reply quick. "You don't have to."
And she didn't.
Not until the car slowed.
"This isn't the beach house," she mused as a bright neon glow paned across her face.
He was turning into the parking lot of the late night spot by his house. The one where the greasy smell of fries and burgers seeped through the windows and lingered in the car before you even had a chance to step out.
"I'm assuming this plan of yours requires sustenance."
Her eyes went wide at his genius, and she rushed to peck his lips. Then twisting in her seat, she unbuckled the seatbelt and launched out of the car.
"You think of everything," she announced giddily, walking back through the parking lot with three milkshakes, a large fry, two burgers, and a chicken sandwich. He strolled behind her, opening the car door for her so that she could safely store away her food. Inside the restaurant, she hadn't let him near the cash register while she ordered. That was, until it came time to swipe a card, then she flashed a charming smile over her shoulder.
Back in the driver seat, he motioned at the paper bags at her feet. "You got something for me?"
She blinked up. "Oh, you wanted something?"
"Greedy," he snickered.
Her lips stretched across her face, her eyes twinkling. "You love it."
His head shook slowly, as if trying to deny the obvious. But they both knew the truth. And so did the smile he was failing to suppress.
She perched her elbow on the center console, waiting for a response. He let out a chuckle. A beautiful sound that drew her in, prompting her to cup his face across the front seat.
Kisses began as pecks, but magnetized to her lips, his torso ended up over the console, following her as she clawed him closer. One hand relinquished his face, fisting into the cotton at his chest. The seam dug into the back of his neck while his palm slid down her thigh. She sucked his bottom lip between hers, and a heady moan rolled through his chest, echoing in a way that she clearly approved of. Because she dragged him even closer. So much so, that his hand had to palm the window to keep his weight from crushing her.
It was like the early honeymoon phase all over again.
Until a loud honk tore them apart.
Panting, Olivia swiveled her neck towards the window, her hands holding his head in place, just in case he thought to pull away. She glared at the red sedan behind them. "What the fuck is their problem?"
"I think they just want food, Liv," he offered, his ragged breath hanging over her.
She looked back at him, his lips swollen, cheeks squished between her palms. She contemplated the possibility. "Fine," she muttered.
"She said I was a force!"
While she pulled a fry from the bag in her lap, Spencer bit into his grilled chicken sandwich. Which was—in her words—the obvious choice for him with the football season coming up. He wasn't allowed to touch either of her burgers. Though he did get a milkshake. And a handful of fries.
"I told you they'd love you."
She smiled at her lap, dragging a fry through the ketchup. "You did."
"Next summer, I'll come visit."
"Uh, yeah," she nodded, stuffing another fry into her mouth.
His brows furrowed. "What? You don't want me to visit?"
"No, no, no. Of course, I do," she murmured, shoving the food off her lap and crawling across the couch. "I just wish you could come for the whole time, that's all."
He relaxed. "I'll come for as long as I can."
"And I'll take you to all my favorite spots."
"I'd like that," he hummed, meeting her tender kisses. "Very much."
Food forgotten, he nudged his fist against her lower back, pressing her closer. A whisper of warmth trickled down her spine, through her lower belly, and settled right between her thighs. The damned feeling had taunted her all summer.
Early in the mornings, when she was just getting up, he'd been eight hours behind, undressing for the day. His voice would be sweet, like it was right now, filling her in on his day. But half the time, her attention was elsewhere, caught up in the show he hadn't even been aware he was putting on.
For weeks, she had woken up in the mornings and fallen asleep at night to a burning desire to feel him under her fingertips. Now, he felt firmer. Solid muscle under warm skin. A clear indication of what he did over the summer without her.
His whisper broke the heavy silence. "You wanna go upstairs?"
Her eyes remained on their intertwined hands as he guided her up the stairs. An hour earlier she had been ready to jump him. But now, standing in his bedroom, she hesitated. "Actually... can I shower first?"
His eyes went wide, embarrassed that he hadn't thought to offer first. "Of course. I can get you... um, let me get you a towel."
"I just feel kind of gross," she apologized, following him into the bathroom.
"Yeah, yeah. I got you," he nodded.
Once everything was laid out, he lingered by the door. Normally, he'd stay. But he could tell by her tone that she needed a moment alone. It had been three months since they were last together, and though time apart hadn't stopped them before, the mounting tension of the summer had them see-sawing since her arrival.
Above all, her comfort was his priority. So while the water ran, he made himself busy.
She reemerged in a cloud of steam. Taking in the scene, she stood with the towel wrapped around her chest, her curls laid neatly behind her bare shoulders. Flickering flames illuminated the dark room, and slow RnB played faintly in the background.
He hoped it wasn't too much.
"I missed you so badly," she whispered, her lips twisting as if the pain of the distance still held in her body.
He crossed the room, eliminating the space between them. "Hey, I'm here." Tilting her chin up, he pressed a tentative kiss to her lips.
Her eyes fell shut at the delicateness, and he could sense the calm washing over her. But there was still something off. While his hands grasped onto her neck, hers hung limply by her side.
"Everything okay?"
She stepped back, wrapping her arms around her torso. "Has there...?"
He fixed his gaze on hers. "Liv, I was on the phone with you every free moment I had."
"I just wanted to ask. You know, to be—"
He stepped closer, tilting his head. It was obvious that she had spent the entirety of her shower debating whether to bring it up. "There hasn't been anyone but you since the night you left. For the past three months, my mind's been on you and football."
Her gaze lingered over his shoulder as she nodded slowly, taking in his profession.
He hesitated. "I mean, you didn't...?"
Her eyes snapped back to his, alarmed that he would suggest such a thing. "No, no," she said, walking back towards him.
Then she kissed him with all she had.
The mattress creaked under them as he shifted his weight onto her, slotting himself between her spread thighs. Pressed up against him, her warmth radiated through his boxers, propelling his mind ten steps ahead to thoughts of her wet heat, slick and pulsing around him. It didn't matter what part. After three months, he just needed to feel her.
"Wait," she mumbled, catching his wrist. Her chest heaved in slow waves below him. When she was sure he wouldn't push further, she let his hand go in exchange for the waistband of his boxers. "Show me."
Fogged with desire, his mind refused to keep up. A sharp inhale escaped his lips as she shimmied under him, her thigh rubbing against his groin, catching the towel and pulling the knot undone. The rest of her way up, her breasts pooled freely.
His eyes trailed her taut nipples. He wanted to follow her, to suck the brown pebbles into his mouth. But she was already shifting onto her knees, crawling back over.
"Show me what you did," she cooed. Her lips pressed against his, moving slowly before parting back open, "When you were alone and you missed me."
His voice came out hoarse. "Let me take care of you first."
"I can wait." She tugged at his boxers, hard enough that his hips instinctively lifted off the bed. Once he was free, she kissed down his torso to his pelvis. Her eyes rolled up to meet his. "Plus, I want you to last inside me."
He barely managed to choke out her name as her smile grew. Her eyes marveling at his length, stiff and growing for her.
"Liv."
Shifting her attention, she kissed up his inner thighs, smirking against him every time he twitched. "I got to watch your face," she continued, alluding to the handful of times his moans filled her tiny London dorm room, "now let me see the rest."
With a groan, his hand wrapped around his dick and started stroking. She did her best to ignore the wetness leaking down her thighs and focus on his grip, gliding loosely up and down.
A steady flow of moans spilled out of him, but she knew he was holding back.
He wanted her to do it.
Luckily for him, she was dying to touch him. She pressed a kiss at his base, smiling softly at his groan. She wrapped her hand around his, tangling their fingers as she eyed the small pearl of pre-cum sitting at his tip. Perfectly round, it made her pause to debate how she wanted to break it.
He grunted needily, and her eyes flickered upwards.
"I'm going," she cooed, wrapping her other hand delicately around his erection. The skin was warm and soft to her touch, the hardness, a sign of his patience. Her mouth closed around his tip and she sucked, humming as the mild saltiness infiltrated her senses.
"Fuck, L—" the sensation of her flat tongue passing over his tip cut him short, replacing his words with a stuttered moan as her mouth sunk further. "Fuck."
She untangled his useless hands from hers. And needing somewhere to go, they weaved into her curls as she found her cadence, bobbing up and down his shaft. Her cheeks hollow, her tongue caressing. Heaven.
She sucked him off with a pop.
"You like what you see," she laughed, pulling back to admire him, fully coated in her saliva.
He didn't care for conversation, his hands pressed her down encouragingly. "Keep going, baby."
Baby.
She cradled his balls, heavy in her palm, handling him delicately like he was her most prized possession. She increased her pressure, winding her hands around what she couldn't fit into her mouth. His fingers tightened on her scalp, and his guttural moans crescendoed as she spit and stroked in rapid succession.
"Liv," he muttered, his voice strained.
"It's okay, baby," she cooed, her voice calm and reassuring. Her eyes met his, her hand never going still. "You can cum. I want you to cum for me."
She took him back in, and his breathing became shallow, his muscles twitching as he throbbed in the warm wetness of her mouth. His abs clenched violently, and her name, stuttered and broken, fell off his tongue.
She swallowed his cum, letting a little spill back over her lip and down his shaft. The thick warmth oozed over her fingers, making a milky mess of his release. Once he came down, her hand moved again slowly, sending his eyes rolling back and his hips off the bed.
Amused, she giggled.
He was putty in her hands.
One by one, she licked her fingers clean, giving him both a show and a chance to breathe. Through it all, his eyes remained locked on hers, plotting.
"I missed the taste of you," she said as she crawled back up his body. She kissed him with a softness reserved for moments like this, when he was relaxed, almost loopy.
"Yeah?"
She nodded against his neck, nuzzling her nose further into him. His voice was thick and lovely. Like it had been on the phone. Like it always was when he came for her. "Mhm."
His arm wrapped around her lower back, pressing her in, needing her closer. Always on the same page, her legs wrapped around his waist, holding tight as he rolled her onto her back. He pulled back onto his heels, his eyes roaming and appreciating, his breathing slow and methodical.
The glimpses he got over FaceTime didn't do her justice.
She laid there under his watchful gaze, sprawled out and vulnerable to him. The heat of his stare added to the ache building between her thighs, a tension locking in her muscles that only he had the key to release. "Spencer," she whimpered.
His hand came to her knees, ceremoniously parting them open. She sucked in a breath as he lowered straight to his destination. No time for detours. He kept his first swipe long and slow, reacquainting himself with her folds. The second time, his tongue moved with more intention, swirling in soft circles until her hips bucked against him, eliciting a muffled chuckle that reverberated straight up her spine.
She groaned, and his eyes flickered up, checking on her. But the expression on her face left no room for interpretation. She needed him to continue. She needed him. Period.
Taking his time, he went back to work. After being deprived for so long, he could spend hours buried in her warm wetness, intoxicated by her taste. He cherished the whining mewls that echoed above him as he lapped, spreading her slick until she glistened in a mess of her arousal and his saliva.
Satisfied with his masterpiece, he hummed against her.
"More," she pleaded, reaching her hands down to pull his mouth closer to where she needed it. Except for the gentle brush of his nose, he had yet to go near her clit.
He chuckled, finally pressing a light kiss to her bud. Swollen and waiting for him.
"You miss me?" he murmured.
She whimpered in agony, her back arching up to the ceiling.
Except her pleas didn't help her case, he loved her reactions to his touch. How she squirmed at the lightest taps and jolted at his wicked flicks. Experimenting, he blew against her. Studying her movements as the muscles at her opening clenched, and her chest rose off the bed a second time.
She hissed his name, desperate for him to stop teasing.
At last, he conceded, his lips latching around her clit. Suckling gently, he ran the tip of his tongue back and forth, sensing the tension compressing within her as her grip tightened on his scalp.
"I'm close," she whimpered, rolling her hips into his mouth. "I'm—" she gasped.
He had pulled away, his lips gleaming in her juices. "Not yet."
"Yes, right now," she whined, her hands darting down, taking matters into her own hands. A finger slipped in easily while her other hand swiped over her bundle of nerves, searching for any fraction of friction she could create.
Her whines flowed freely as her juices gushed over her knuckles, her muscles tensing in anticipation. There was something about watching her get herself off that drove him crazy, that kept him stuck. The way her head lolled to the side, body writhing. Chasing euphoria, but unable to get there on her own.
"Help," she cried out.
His eyes went dark, and his palms spread wide on her thighs, sending her knees back and opening her up further. With a growl, he lowered back in. When he sucked, she exhaled, sinking back into the mattress and her pleasure-induced haze.
Light panting replaced her mewls while she fought to remain patient. Her hands curled into the sheets, her mouth hanging open while his tongue lovingly mapped every crease and crevice. At least he was adding to the pressure.
His tongue pressed against the tightness at her opening, and an ugly moan slipped from her lips. After a few gentle prods, his tongue worked in and out, his thumb drawing smooth circles around her clit, slowly winding the knot tighter and tighter in her belly. Every muscle in her body begged for relief, but his teasing thrusts were not enough. He was enjoying himself too much.
"I want to cum. Please," she cried out, the tingling flickering within her, giving her a taste of what she craved but couldn't have. "Let me cum."
Coming back to her, firm hands locked down on her waist. His lips latched onto her clit, his nose pressing into her mound. All the pressure rushed to her bud as he doubled-down on the pulsing. Feeling the threatening flutters, she gripped tighter into the sheets.
"Go on, baby. Cum in my mouth," he murmured. "Just like you've wanted to all summer."
The pressure teetered on the edge, the explosion inching closer and closer. Her panting grew heavy as he slurped and sucked, helping her climb to her peak. His mouth slid back down to her opening.
With the pad of his thumb strumming against her clit, the pressure snapped, and her whole body shook. Each muscle spasm threatened to take her out as liquid heat coursed through her veins. Her chest heaved, up and down, and up and down, and between her legs, her release sputtered weakly. Whimpering, she slid her heels down his back, pressing her thighs into his ears. Everything felt sensitive. She couldn't take anymore. Yet his tongue wouldn't stop.
"Spencer," she whined.
His wet lips moved to her inner thigh, suckling gently until she relaxed. He wasn't ready to kill her. Yet. He kissed up her pelvis, dipping his tongue into her navel. Then up her chest, circling her taut nipples. Then finally up her neck, meeting the serene look on her face.
Sweaty curls stuck to her forehead. Her beautiful face, dewy and glowing in the candle light.
"You're dangerous," she murmured.
He smirked. "And you love it."
Nodding, she pulled his face down to hers. Her own tangy taste hit her tongue, and she smiled against his lips. All the anticipation had been for nothing. He had been undeniably hers the whole time.
"I missed eating you out."
She let out a content hum, her eyes rolling back. His body pressed against hers in every which way. His lips nibbling on her earlobe, his hands exploring her curves, his beard scratching at her neck. A welcomed attack on her senses. His dick, hard again, was trapped between them.
"I could have kept you going for longer," he teased.
She smiled at his smugness, her neck rolling to make sure he saw it and got his credit.
"You don't know how many times I got off to the thought of waking you up with my head between your thighs," he whispered.
The vivid imagery wiped the smile clear off her face.
"And I'm gonna make up for all the times I wanted to but couldn't."
At that, a weight dropped back into her pelvis, a substantial gush dribbling out between her thighs.
"I need you inside me."
Ready, he wrapped his hand around himself, gliding his tip through her slick.
"No, I want to be on top," she mumbled through shallow breaths while his lips continued their attack at the base of her neck.
He let out a grunt, sliding a hand under her lower back and rolling over. Pulling away, she sat up. The throbbing between her legs was no longer a subtle pulse, but an incessant ache for him, clenching at the sight of his needy gaze.
She pressed against his chest, and he scooted up further, leaning against the headboard and crossing his legs. He knew exactly what she wanted.
Maintaining eye contact, she shift her hips and slowly sank down onto him, her face twisting as his girth stretched her out for the first time in months. Halfway down, she held steady, breathing through the dull sting.
"Feel good?" he mumbled.
She closed her eyes and nodded. Now it did.
She continued her descent, moaning as the familiar ridges brushed past her entrance. It wasn't until she was fully seated that she realized he had been holding his breath.
"You're so tight."
She clenched down on him, and his jaw went slack.
"Fuck, I missed you," he mumbled, feeling himself grow harder as she pulsed around him. Warm and wet, holding him snug.
She wrapped her legs around his lower back, locking her ankles loosely.
"God," she moaned.
Her fingers tangled with his as she gyrated her hips, feeling him stir her insides. Bouncing lightly in his lap, she reveled in the sparks shooting up from her pelvis, through her limbs. The feeling of him inside her made her want to throw out every toy she owned.
Nothing compared to the fullness she felt with him inside her. The warm hardness sliding against her walls, giving her pleasure. But also inciting an irreplaceable fondness. For his body. For him. For his soul. This was her person, and no one, nor anything, could set her alight like he could.
His fingers played lazily with her nipples while she circled her hips. Every couple minutes, she alternated between grinding and shallow thrusts, giving into whatever felt better in the moment. Her palms eventually fell back, planting themselves on the bed, giving her leverage.
"On the nights you were busy. I would lay in bed in the mornings and think about us." Her head fell back as she caught a new angle. A much deeper one. She sighed. "My mind always ended up here."
Temporarily sated from his first release, he watched through heavy eyes, transfixed on the ring she was forming at the base of his shaft.
"You should have called," he replied, his voice husky. His thumb started circling her clit, and she moaned, "I did."
His face hardened. "You should have called again."
"You were busy."
"I would've made myself unbusy."
She smiled lazily at his nonsense. He'd promise her anything when they were like this.
"It's okay. This is better." Pushing herself back up, she cupped a hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing along the faint circles under his eyes. "You're always better."
As she started moving again, their pace remained slow. Their movements, subtle. An occasional kiss broke their cadence, but she otherwise kept her hands interlocked behind his neck, their gazes connected as their breathing flowed in sync.
Eventually, a persistent burn crept into her thighs, and a tightness grew in her hips. He sensed her movements tapering.
"You want me to go?"
She nodded lazily, leaning forward onto his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. His forearms secured around her, and he slipped from her as he laid her on her back. Blinking up slowly at him, she watched as he nudged her legs wider, lining himself back up at her entrance.
A low moan slipped past her lips as he thrusted in, the force sending her eyes rolling back.
Hovering over her, he kept his strokes slow and deliberate, focusing less on the immediate pleasure, but instead, on their union.
Her eyes hung half open. Half way between the present and the blissful place her mind wandered to during sex. "Kiss me," she murmured.
His hand snaked under her neck, and his lips slotted with hers. Through their wet kisses, her moans floated into his mouth as his thrusts knocked repeatedly at her favorite spot. Her hips rolled up into his, matching his strokes. With each thrust, his length grazed her clit. He slid a hand under her knee, and her mouth fell agape as he sunk deeper.
Her hands swept up the slopes of his shoulders and held his face. Her eyes communicating exactly what she needed from him most.
The gentle squelching that had encompassed their lovemaking turned to wet smacking, and with each snap of his hips, his pelvis slapped against her clit, his balls heavy against her ass. Their sensual rolls now held intention. Urgency.
Her arm looped around his neck, forcing his weight down onto her.
His forehead dropped to her neck. "Where do you want me to cum?"
"Inside me. It's okay."
"You sure?"
"Mhm," she whimpered.
He groaned against her skin, fighting against the pulses and flutters closing in on him.
"Fuck, baby." Her breathing grew labored, her hips seeking more pleasure. The sheets under her were soaked in their sweat, but all she could focus on was the heat blossoming in between her legs. Gentler than the first time, it radiated out, building in her bones and nesting itself deep in her limbs. "I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm—"
The tightness in her muscles released into a deep rhythmic clenching. Wave after wave of warmth washed over her, flooding every extremity with pleasure. There was no tension left. Nothing but bliss and him moving slowly inside her, guiding her through her climax.
She went limp, and her hands reached lazily for his face. He was still hard. "Cum, baby. Cum inside me."
His thrusts picked back up, his movements sloppy and desperate. Within a few thrusts, his hips seized, and rope after rope of his warm, thick cum shot into her.
Her fingertips brushed up and down the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Her insides milking him of everything he had until his seed dribbled out between them. Lost in the daze, her hands found his cheeks again. Their satisfied sighs filling the room as they kissed, her hips rolling up lazily into his, collecting the lingering aftershocks.
"That was perfect," she murmured. "Thank you."
He was out of breath, but coming back to himself. "You don't ever have to thank me."
"But I want to."
He chuckled softly at her playful pout. Then grew serious at her frown. "What's wrong?"
"I miss you already."
His chuckle returned when he realized he had softened and slipped out of her. "You can have me again tomorrow."
Another pout followed. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah," he snickered, planting a hand on each side of her head and pushing up, "because you're about to knock out."
She rolled onto her side, curling into herself as she watched him walk away to the bathroom, admiring the firmness in his glutes as they flexed with each step.
"You have a nice ass," she called out.
A throaty laughter floated back to her. Nothing could ever make her tired of that sound. Ever.
"Come back please."
"I'm coming."
A grin reappeared on her face as he strolled through the doorway. This time, providing her a glorious view of his front. Between his chest, his abs, or the part of him dangling between his thighs, she truly didn't know which was her favorite.
He knelt against the edge of the bed, and it dipped under his weight.
"You're not sleepy?"
She shook her head. "Nuh-uh." Spotting the washcloths in his hand, she added. "We can shower instead."
"Let me take care of you, woman."
"Okay." A languid smile spread across her face as he slid the warm terrycloth up her inner calf, along her thigh. After so long, he was back in his element. He repeated the motions on the other side, wiping away the sweat and their dried releases. Flipping the towel over, he followed the curve of her waist, passing over each breast until it could be questionably argued that she was clean.
"Thank you aga—" Her mouth fell open as the warm cloth passed gently between her folds.
At the sound of her moans, he chuckled to himself, and feeling empowered, he parted her lips with his fingers, swiping along her opening.
"You're too good," she mumbled, her eyes falling closed.
An unexpected finger pressed against her slit, and she inhaled sharply. He was slowly sliding back in.
"I'm sensitive," she moaned, grabbing onto his wrist.
He turned his arm under her grip, his finger twisting inside her. "You want me to stop?"
Her breathing stuttered, but she shook her head. A second finger joined the first, curling up against her front wall. Dips of pleasure mingled with the oversensitivity, but even then, she didn't dare ask him to stop.
"Come on, one more for me."
"More pressure," she whimpered.
He pressed deep, watching her discomfort morph into bliss. Keeping his moments steady, he pumped into her until a final cry rang through the room. Her hand darted down to his, shoving him away.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
She nodded into the pillow, exhausted and wrung out. He seemed intent on ending her. And what was worse was that she'd let him.
On weak legs, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hands clasped under her chin while he tamed her curls enough to get them into a bun on her head.
"Good enough?"
"Mhm."
Turning in his arms, she snaked her own up his shoulders, burying her face into his neck. His lips pressed into her forehead, and his hands traveled down to her thighs and lifted her onto his waist. An act for which she was grateful. Walking was too hard.
"Now, you're tired?" he murmured.
He was asking too much of her. Words were hard, too. "Mhm."
"We're almost there," he murmured.
He carried her into the shower and set her down. But her arms didn't unloop themselves from his neck. She needed him to stand.
While the hot water beat steadily against her back, his arms moved around her, grabbing for soaps and loofahs, scrubbing her down before taking care of himself. Sex no longer on the forefront of either of their minds, this quiet intimacy was one she loved. Just her and him, present and together.
Sure, living alone in London had been a worthwhile experience. She had learned to navigate the city and find her way on her own. But she wasn't sad to leave that behind when by coming back, she had him to dote on her. That was one of the biggest lessons she learned while being in a relationship with him the first time—being with him didn't mean sacrificing her independence.
It was about balance.
He was a simple man, who wanted to care for her and feel loved. If keeping her from lifting a finger made him happy, she now knew better than to get in his way.
By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was even sleepier than she had been before.
Wrapped in a towel, she leaned against the counter, brushing her teeth lazily. Her eyes occasionally darted over to him while he did the same. Finishing first, she rinsed and padded back to the bedroom, dropping her towel at the edge of the bed before shimmying under the sheets.
"You crazy?"
"No," she groaned as he grabbed onto her ankle and pulled her back.
"It's your first night back. I'm not letting you sleep like this."
Disgruntled, she complained for the entire time that it took him to strip the bed and put on fresh sheets.
"There you go, grumpy."
"Thank you," she hummed, wiggling her way back in. "Come."
But he was already right behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist, pressing her to him.
_____
The sunshine felt heavenly on her face as she sat on the back patio. The ocean waves in the background provided the perfect soundtrack to the balmy morning.
Or afternoon.
It was 3pm, and they had barely managed to stumble out of bed thirty minutes earlier. If she added up all the hours she slept between the murmuring and the laughing, it had to add up to at least eight. She should have felt well rested. Except she was exhausted, and her whole body throbbed when she tried to move.
But even with all the proof that she was in fact here, with him, she still felt like was living in some alternate reality. One she never wanted to leave. In this world, she felt comfort in the fact that they were on the same page. That this time around, their relationship was solid. It was a level of peace she hadn't felt in a long time.
And then her phone lit up next to her and hurled her back to earth.
An email notification flashed on her screen. Her internship offer.
Unable to wait, she snatched up her phone, impatience forcing her to scroll and read. She needed to know the details...
Until she didn't.
Six months. From January to June.
Her heart dropped. She had to tell him soon because there was no more hiding between them. No more secrets. She wouldn't be the cause of their downfall a second time.
She felt his presence before she saw him and willed the peace back into her morning if only for a couple more hours.
He set the bags of food on the low patio table in front of her.
"Have I told you I love you recently?" she smiled.
"Yes, but you can say it again."
"I love you," she murmured, crawling up to her knees and flinging her arms around his neck. He met her with a peck, and she let go. He presented salads and was met with a groan.
"Football," he reminded her.
"You're the only one here playing," she grumbled, searching the bag for any extra treats he may have snuck in. "I'm good."
"There's ice cream in the freezer," he chuckled.
They ate facing the ocean, a calm quiet falling over them. With each stolen glance in her direction, his smile widened, his happiness visibly increasing. And with each passing seconds, she realized he was entering a new chapter, and if she didn't speak up soon, she'd be left behind.
"I have to tell you something."
He looked up from his colorful salad. "What's up, baby."
"You know my internship?" By posing it as a question, she was stalling, and she knew it.
"The one you just came back from yesterday?" he teased. "Or the one next summer."
She bit her lip, laughing nervously. "Yeah, it's not next summer."
His eyes remained light. He still hadn't caught on.
"It's in the spring. And it's six months instead of three."
Instead of rambling, she let him process. But the longer he stared out in front of them, the more the empty space gnawed at her insides. Past her would be proud of being so direct, but in the present, the suspense felt terrible.
"Spencer, can you say—"
"Marry me, Liv."
Her voice dropped back down her throat. "What?"
He set his salad down and turned to her, determined to get closer to her frozen frame. "It doesn't have to be right now. But one day, Liv. One day. We know this is it for each other. It's you and me. And I... I don't have the perfect words... or even a ring. But I'll buy you one. Any ring you want. It's yours. Cause you're it for me."
He must've misunderstood. Or did she accidentally say six years instead of months? "Spencer, I don't know if we're ready for all that yet. We barely survived the first year of college."
"But we're here now aren't we? We've gotten through worse before. What else's left for us?"
Her body no longer felt connected to her mind. She was back in an alternate reality. Except not the same the dazzling paradise she had been in earlier.
"What do you say, Liv?" He kneeled down on one knee with nothing but his bare hands to hold onto hers. "Will you marry me?"