“Yes,” he growled, his eyes closing, his head dropping back. “Fuck yes. I’m gonna come...so hard…”
But I came first, my insides clenching his cock like a vise before the tension eased in beautiful, flowing contractions that had me sighing one long, drawn-out note. Just as my orgasm finished, Nick’s began, and I felt his body stiffen and shudder, heard his low moan of blissful relief. My God, we’re so good together. Why does it have to be so good?
Collapsing on his chest, I buried my face in his neck, my chest rising and falling in time with his.
His hands slid up my back. “Oh my God. I can’t even think. What are we doing?”
I giggled. “Being friends?”
“Oh, right. Friends.”
I knew I should get up, clean up, wise up. But it was just so peaceful and comfortable, lying there on his chest, our bodies still connected, Nick’s hands rubbing my back.
“Coco. I have to tell you something.”
I sat up and smiled at him, squeezed his cock with my core muscles. “Let me guess. Your dick is really fucking happy right now.”
“No.” He shook his head, his expression serious. “I just realized something.”
“What?”
“I’m still in love with you.”
“Let me up.” I tried to get off him, but his hands pinned me to his body.
“No. I want to talk about this. About us.”
“Well, I don’t. And if you can’t separate sex from love, then we’re eliminating sex from the equation. We should have done that already.”
“These are my feelings, not a math problem.”
“Fine.” I looked around, threw up a hand. “I like how you bring me all the way out here to the country where I can’t escape to break the rules.”
“You never said I couldn’t talk about my feelings.”
Again I tried to get off him, and this time he let me. Warmth trickled down my leg, and I hunted around for a napkin. If it got on my dress, I’d have to change. “Do we not have napkins?” I asked, agitated.
“I think I forgot to buy them. Use the blanket.”
“The four hundred dollar Amish quilt?”
“OK, here.” Grabbing his t-shirt behind his neck, he whipped it off and handed it to me. “Use this. I’ll grab another shirt from the car.”
I took the shirt and cleaned up with it, turning away from him a little, and Nick packed up the trash and extra food. When I was done, I folded up the shirt and tugged my underwear back in place. I was sticky and still a bit wet, but it was better than nothing. “Are you ready to go?”
“No. I want to talk.”
“Nick, I said no.” I started to stand, but he grabbed my arm, his grip firm.
“Then let me talk. You can just listen.”
“I don’t want to listen.”
“Are you shutting me out to punish me? Is that what this is about?” he demanded.
“No!” Wait, it wasn’t, was it?
“Then what? Why won’t you even listen to me?
What are you so afraid of?”
I looked at him, fighting the urge to tell him the truth. I might have beaten it if he wasn’t shirtless and I couldn’t see the sheen of sweat on his chest or my name near his heart. Maybe I’d have won if his hair wasn’t a little messy, or if I hadn’t looked down at his wrists, that Shinola watch glinting in the sunlight. “It’s a list a mile long.”
He let go of my arm. “Starting with…”
“Starting with being afraid to hear your excuse for leaving me.”
“It’s not an excuse—nothing excuses what I did. It’s just an explanation.”
“Well, I don’t want to hear it. It will only make me feel worse.”
“Why would that be?”
“Because no matter what you say, the fact remains that you didn’t love me enough to stay, Nick. You didn’t even love me enough to say goodbye.”
Nick closed his eyes and exhaled. “Go on. What else are you afraid of?”
“I don’t trust you.”
He met my eye. “I understand that. I hurt you deeply.”
“You did. Many times, but especially the final time. So you can tell me you love me all you want, but it won’t mean a thing to me. You said it then, too. You still broke my heart.”
He set his lips in a grim line. “Is that everything?”
“I’m afraid of being hurt again, obviously. I don’t want you to have that power over me. If I don’t believe what you say, if I don’t tell you how I’m feeling, if I don’t even admit it to myself, then I can keep you from breaking my heart again.”
“That’s ridiculous, Coco. Just because you don’t admit to a feeling doesn’t make it vanish. Look, we said last night we were just going to be friends, I get it. But things are different now.”
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours!”
He put a hand on my leg. “But we have history. That has weight. It has meaning. And you of all people know that just because something is in the past doesn’t mean it’s dead and buried.”
Oh, how I knew. I closed my eyes, feeling just how alive our feelings for each other were. But the fear was there, too. Would it ever go away? Would I ever kiss him goodbye in the morning and be absolutely certain that he’d be there in the evening? What if every time he walked out the door, I had that uneasy feeling he was leaving forever?