When she comes, I sit up again, wrapping her in my arms and rocking her through her orgasm before I go crashing over with her. I roar as I push in deep, seeing stars and feeling the world drop away from both of us as we collapse in a tangle into the blankets.
We go again later, this time face to face. I pin her hands above her head this time, like I know damn well drives her wild. And we never break eye contact as I fuck her slow and deep, her legs wrapped around my waist.
We lie there after until it gets late, and I know it has to end even though I hate that it does.
We drive back to town with her right against me on the bench seat of the truck, her head on my shoulder and the briny sea air drifting through the open windows.
I stop a block before her parents’ house, and she grins as she looks up at me.
“Just like high school, huh?”
She laughs. “Yeah.”
I don’t want this to end. I don’t want whatever this night was and what we keep finding again and again to expire. Not ever. I just don’t know how the fuck to tell her that. Or how the hell I expect her to hear that after what happened before.
“Ivy-“
She shakes her head, silencing me with a soft kiss.
“We don’t have to go there,” she’s says quietly. “Not tonight.”
She leans into me again, kissing me softly.
“Goodnight, Silas.”
“Goodnight, gorgeous.”
Chapter Thirty
Ivy
Morning sun steams in through the curtains of my childhood bedroom.
Not much has changed in here. The same desk, the same white dresser, the same chair by the window. Heck, I’m lying in the same bed that’s been here since I lived in these four walls. Okay, the NSYNC and Lighthouse posters have thankfully been pulled down. But aside from that?
Exactly the same.
It’s late in the morning, but I’m still in bed, still glowing and grinning about the night before. I touch my lips, feeling like the same blushing teenager I once was, lying in this same bed thinking about the same boy kissing me.
Its the same feeling I felt all those years ago. I might be twenty-six now, but I’m still getting the same butterflies I got after being kissed by Silas Hart for the first time behind our neighbor’s garage. I’ve got the same dopey grin on my face as the first time I truly let myself get lost in those sea-blue eyes of his.
And I’m getting the same blush of heat through certain places in my body that I did the first time he slowly pulled my clothes off of me - the first time I took off his.
“We don’t have to, not until you’re-”
“I am ready.”
I kiss him, holding his face.
“I want this,” I say heatedly, feeling my heart racing in my chest. “I want you.”
“You’re all I ever want,” he says softly, kissing me.
I know I’m not his first, but if I ever thought that would bother me, it doesn’t. I don’t care about anything else actually, because I’m in love. We’re in love, and nothing else comes close to meaning anything besides that.
We’re parked up by the falls, laying naked together in the back of his truck on a blanket, with the summer moon shining down and the falls gurgling like music in the background. He’s slow, and careful, and it doesn’t hurt like everyone says it will.
In fact, he’s the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life.
I’m addicted after that. After that, we’re doing what we did that night all over again, every chance we get. And it’s like I love him more every single day.
Later, what starts as a joking comment turns into reality. It turns into each of us saying yes in front of a priest, and putting a ring on the other’s finger.
I never do lose those butterflies.
And apparently, I really never did lose them. They just went into hiding over the last eight years. Because here I am in my bed, my fingers tracing my lips and still feeling the delicious soreness in my body from him the night before.
I have NO idea what comes next. But here and now and whoever this is?
It’s pretty perfect.
I glance at my phone on my bedside table and roll my eyes. Twenty missed calls from my management company, another fifty texts. Utterly unsurprisingly, there are no missed calls from Blaine.
I’m sure they’re freaking out, and I can picture Lori, my agency manager, tearing her hair out about the prospect of Blaine and I not being a “thing” anymore, and what that might do to my fan-base, and more importantly, my sales power.