“I miss you already.”
“Oh, you have it bad, Mr. Williams.”
Luke laughs and rolls me onto my back. He runs his knuckles down my cheek and kisses me in that gentle way he has that makes me all gooey. “Yes, I’m afraid I do.”
“I do too,” I whisper.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
He sweeps his nose down mine as I raise my legs up and around his waist. We’re still naked from last night’s lovemaking. He shifts so his hard cock is lying against my folds and rocks gently back and forth.
I know this will be much different from the way he fucked me on the couch last night. This will be slow and sweet.
He’s kissing me tenderly, his eyes open and on mine. He pulls his hips back, and then slides inside me oh so slowly.
“Luke,” I sigh against his mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers.
He doesn’t increase the tempo, he just continues a steady, slow rhythm, in and out, cupping my face in his hands and it’s so beautiful I can’t stop the tears from falling out of the corners of my eyes.
“Don’t cry baby.” He brushes the tears away with his fingertips and rubs my nose with his again.
“I love you so much,” I whisper back to him. “Please, be safe.” His eyes widen, and I know he can see the vulnerability in my eyes, and he finally understands my fear about this trip.
“Oh, baby.” He closes his eyes tightly and buries his head in my neck. I wrap my arms around him, holding him to me, as he gradually increases the tempo and pressure inside me and I come, pulsating around him, as he empties himself into me.
***
“They’re going to be calling your flight. You’d better get through security.” Luke’s wearing a baseball cap and glasses in hopes that he won’t get recognized in the airport. He looks hot.
He always looks hot.
“Have fun with Jules tonight.” He pulls me to him and kisses me long and slow.
“Be good.” I raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll call you when I get to the hotel.” He kisses me again, then rests his lips on my forehead and takes a deep breath, like he really doesn’t want to let me go.
“Okay. Safe travels, my love.” I run my hands down his chest and step back and watch him walk toward security and his terminal.
***
“Natalie?” Jules calls as I open the front door to my house. I have hardly been here all week.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I really don’t feel well, and I don’t think it has anything to do with Luke’s trip.
“Did Luke leave this morning?”
I walk into the kitchen. Jules is buttering a bagel and as the aroma hits my nose it turns my stomach.
“Oh, shit.” I run for the hall bathroom and throw up, barely making it in time.
“Hey, are you okay?” She’s standing in the doorway, watching me. Jules is one of the only people in the world that I would let stand there and watch me hurl.
“I think I must have the flu. I’ve been feeling queasy all morning. I thought it was nerves, but apparently not.”
My stomach convulses again and I grip onto the toilet as I violently retch.
Jules disappears and comes back with a glass of water for rinsing my mouth and cool wash cloth. She sets the glass on the sink and presses the cloth to my neck and I moan.
“Thank you.”
“Let’s get you upstairs and in bed. Lie down for a while and see if your stomach settles.”
“Okay.”
Jules follows me upstairs. I don’t feel too bad, just intensely nauseous. I hate throwing up.
My phone pings in my pocket as I climb on the bed. It’s a text from Luke.
About to take off. No one recognized me. I miss you already, beautiful.
I smile and hit reply.
I miss you too. Be safe. I want you home in one piece, please.
And, I have to barf again. I run for my bathroom, and stay there for the next thirty minutes. Jules is hovering with wet rags and water, and makes me shove a towel under my knees.
“I think we should go to the E.R.”
“No, I’m fine.” I wretch some more.
“Yes, I can see that you’re in top form,” Jules replies dryly.
“Don’t be a bitch.”
“Nat, I’m worried. You can’t stop throwing up.”
“I don’t have anything left to throw up.”
“Yet you’re still dry-heaving. This isn’t normal, even for the flu. You don’t have a fever.”
My abs are starting to ache as I continue to heave over the toilet.
“Nat, don’t make me call my mother.”
“She’ll side with me,” I reply.
“Fine, I’ll call Luke.”