Boy Trouble

“I believe you,” I murmur. I’m not just saying the words. I do believe him, but I don’t agree with how he handled the situation. “I believe you, but I don’t agree with how you handled it. We’re partners, and we need to share the good and the bad. If you had been honest with me, I would have been mad on your behalf and on mine. I would have been angry at her, but not at you. We could have avoided this if you had just told me.”

“You could have stayed. You could have fought for us.”

“I didn’t think that was what you wanted. Look at it from my side of things. Who else could you be talking about so adamantly if I was the only woman in your life?”

“You are the only one.”

“I know, but do you see where I’m coming from here?”

“I’m sorry. I understand, but fuck me. I was scared as hell not knowing where you were. I was ready to call Cam and your parents. I called the police, but they said you had to be missing for at least twenty-four hours before I could file a report.”

“You called the police?” I ask in disbelief.

“You were missing.”

“I was safe.”

“Did you come here in that? Did you walk here in that?” He amends his question.

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” He pulls me close, holding me tight against his chest. “I’m so sorry. Please promise me you’ll never leave like that again.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me.”

“Done.” He presses his lips to mine, and everything is back to how it should be. My world that just hours ago felt as if it were spinning out of control, stills, and I feel centered. His lips trail over my neck and toward my chest. With one hand, he manages to unsnap the buttons on his dress shirt and pull it open. “You were naked? You walked here in nothing but my shirt?”

“Of course not. I had my heels on,” I counter, and he groans.

“I need to be inside you, Mar. I need you, and I don’t think I can take it slow.”

“I don’t want slow. I want all of you, Eli. Take what you need from me. That’s what you do when you love someone. It’s give and take, push and pull, love and be loved.”

I watch as he stands from the bed, removing his wallet and pulling out a condom, tossing it on the bed before stripping out of his clothes before climbing back on the mattress and settling between my thighs. When he sits back on his legs, my eyes track his every move as he rips open the wrapper and covers his hard length. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to bother, but I’m too worked up, as is he. That’s a conversation for another time. Right now, I need him inside me.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod, sitting up, I maneuver my body to where I’m on all fours and look over my shoulder at him. “Take me, Eli.” The words are barely past my lips when he grips my hips, aligns himself at my entrance, and thrusts inside. He doesn’t stop and ask me if I’m okay. No, instead, he builds a steady rhythm, taking care of both of our needs with each thrust of his hips, over and over again. He’s relentless, and all I can do is grip the sheets and hang on for the ride.

“Eli,” I pant, when I feel the pressure start to build.

“Come for me,” he grits out. “Now, Mar,” he says, never losing his rhythm. And his words, the grittiness in his voice is all I need to push me over the edge of bliss. White lights flash behind my eyes as I scream out his name while jolts of pleasure soar through my veins.

Moments later, we’re both sweaty, gasping for air, holding each other tightly, and my heart feels full. The emotions of the night are catching up with me as my eyes grow heavy.

“Is that what I have to look forward to the next fifty years?” he asks.

“What?” I ask, not following him.

“Our make-up sex. I might have to make you mad more often,” he teases.

“Let’s not push it,” I say over a yawn.

“I love you, Marley.”

“I love you too,” I mumble as I drift off to sleep, sated, and my heart full of love.

Epilogue - Eli

Eli

Six months later

“We’re going to be late!” I holler toward the closed bathroom door. She’s been in there for an hour, which is crazy. My Marley is the most beautiful woman in the world and doesn’t need all that makeup and stuff. What could she possibly be doing in there for an hour?

“Hold your horses, Morrison,” she says as she opens the door.

My tongue falls to the ground.

“Fuck, you’re wearing that?” I groan, my cock already getting hard in my black trousers.