She resumes the ride, her face twisting with the effort, with the grind. I flip her onto her back. Eyes locked, we fuck so hard the couch is scooting with the vigor of it. Just inches scraping across the floor, but the sound of it turns me on even more.
She anchors her feet at the small of my back.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she chants, eyes rolling back. “Harder, Deck.”
“Fuck, baby,” I mutter. If I go any harder, I’ll break her, but I take her word for it and as soon as I thrust harder, go deeper, her scream pierces the luxurious quiet of the suite. And I’m not far behind, falling over a cliff into the hottest, wildest, longest orgasm of my life.
We lie there on the couch, hot and sweating and panting, laughing between kisses until our stomachs growl. Who would have thought that first night in the locker room all those years ago, that we’d end up like this? We spend the rest of the night feeding each other from room service trays, bathing together, making love, making plans, making promises. Sharing hurts, shedding tears, and loving. Yeah, the words aren’t said, but it’s there, and we have all the time in the world. For me, there’s no doubt it’s there. We’ve both had suffering mixed in with love. We’ve loved and lost and were never satisfied. But I’m satisfied with her, and I see in her eyes that she’s satisfied with me. We both have pasts and we’ve both had pain, but what we’ve never had was each other.
But now we do. Thank God, now we do.
Epilogue
Avery
It’s Christmas Day, and in D.C., my parents are shoveling snow from the sidewalk. That was me a year ago today. This year, in beautiful stark contrast, I’m watching azure blue waves lick at golden sand. I lean over the balcony to wave at the little girl and older woman down on the shore collecting seashells.
“I’m a lucky bastard,” Decker says from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and tucking me closer into him. “All my girls under one roof for Christmas.”
I turn to face him, reaching up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.
“Your mother is amazing.” I trace the bold planes of his face with one finger. “Now I know where you get those eyes.”
“Hmmmm.” He bends to kiss the curve of my neck.
“And Kiera is so beautiful.” I bend my neck back, giving him better access. “I’m so glad she’s spending Christmas with us.”
“I’m glad we’re spending Christmas with us.” His big hands slide down my back to squeeze my butt. “This ass. Don’t ask how often I think about your ass when we’re apart. I might creep you out.”
“If I wasn’t creeped out by you flashing your junk at me the night we met,” I say, l
aughing against his chest, drawing in the familiar scent of him. “I think you’re probably safe.”
“Then we won’t talk about these either,” he says huskily, pushing aside the lapels of my Kimono dress to suckle my breast through my bra.
“Deck.” I gasp and clutch his head tighter to me, starting to rock my hips into him in rhythm with his mouth. A seagull’s squawk reminds me that, though Deck’s beachfront property is private, we’re still out in the open. “We have to stop, baby.”
“I need you.” He growls into the cleave of my breasts before righting the dress. “Stay an extra week.”
He knows I can’t. The interview I’ve scored with one of the world’s best soccer players is a huge coup. Unfortunately, the interview is in Brazil at the beginning of the year.
“We get seven whole days together,” I whisper into the tanned column of his neck. “And we have so much time to make up for.”
His sober expression doesn’t lighten, and I shake him a little, offering a smile to cajole him into a better mood.
“Deck, come on. You came to D.C. to meet my parents at Thanksgiving. I’m meeting Kiera and your mom for Christmas.” I cup his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “We’re making this work.”
“But when do I get you next?” He laces our fingers together. “The season is about to kick into full gear. It’s our first year, so I know we won’t make the playoffs, but we’re doing better than expected, and I can’t let off the gas. My travel schedule—”
“Is part of your job,” I cut in. “Just like mine is. We’ll see each other every chance we get. That’s what we’ve been doing, right?”
I once dropped everything and raced to LaGuardia where Deck had a layover. We only had an hour, but we made the most of it. I can now say I’ve been fucked in a men’s bathroom. Hard.
No regrets.
“I just want this so bad, Ave.” He rubs a thumb over my lip, leaving a trail of tingles. “I want this to work.”
“It is working.” I tip up on my bare toes to string kisses along his jawline. “We’re working, Deck.”