“You are just so….” His voice trails off.
We kiss and it’s nothing like the kisses of last night. It’s a goodbye kiss and it breaks my fucking heart.
He rises above me and slowly slides his length back and forth between my lips. “Are you going to remember me?” he asks in a whisper.
Through glassy eyes, I nod.
Horror crosses his face as he sees my emotions boiling over. “Baby, don’t,” he whispers.
I grab his behind and pull him down so he penetrates me hard, and we both gasp.
He’s so big, so hard, and so fucking perfect. He stays still to let me get used to his size.
If only he could stay still to let me get used to his love.
And, to the sound of my heart silently breaking, we make tender and beautiful love.
* * *
I’m ruined.
Utterly fucking ruined.
And it’s all Stace’s fault.
I am in the bathroom pretending to go to the toilet and he is packed, ready to go. I just need a minute to pull myself together.
We have had breakfast and laughed some more, although it has been strained because we both know what’s coming.
What’s worse is that I know he feels it, too. I’m not imagining it.
It’s here and it’s palpable. It feels real.
But I’m not being the needy chick that he left in Bogota. I’m going to rock this goodbye if it’s the last thing I do. I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Ten minutes. Just be strong for ten minutes.
I blow out the breath and head back into the room. His suit is in its bag on the bed.
“All ready?” I smile.
He nods and gives me a lopsided smile. “I don’t know if I want you to stay here alone. Can you not go back to the US?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ve chosen my path.”
His eyes hold mine. “And it’s alone?” he questions.
I nod once. “Very alone.”
As if feeling dejected by my answer, he picks up his suit and slings it over his shoulder and we walk over to the door before he continues out into the hallway.
We gently kiss and both of our faces screw up in pain.
He pulls back and his eyes search mine. “What if you’re my person?” he whispers.
My eyes tear up because I know for certain that he is mine. “I’m not,” I whisper.