Page 29 of Love, Take Two
"I missed this," I murmur against her lips, then prove it by kissing her again.
"I missed feeling…" she breathes when we break apart for air. "like someone really sees me, understands what I'm trying to build, believes in my dreams."
"I see you," I say with complete honesty. "I see how awesome you are now, how you totally rebuilt your career your own way, and how amazing you are when you're really into what you're doing."
"And look at you," she replies, her hands framing my face with gentle certainty. "How hard you've worked to build something meaningful, how much you've grown since college, how you still look at the world like it's full of possibilities."
Another loud clap of thunder, but instead of interrupting the moment, it just makes our cozy, stormy hideaway feel even more private. I wrap my arms around her, lifting her easily as she wraps her legs around my waist, and carry her to the bed. The storm outside becomes our soundtrack as we lose ourselves in each other—tender and desperate, familiar yet completely new. Every kiss, every touch feels like coming home and discovering something incredible all at once.
Lightning illuminates our candlelit suite in dramatic flashes as his hands move with purpose, undressing me slowly while the storm rages across the ocean beyond our terrace. When his mouth finds that sensitive spot just below my ear, I arch against him with a soft moan that mingles with the sound of rain against the windows, my fingers threading through his hair to hold him there.
"You feel incredible," he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with desire and barely audible above the thunder that rolls across the water, and I love how sure he sounds, how sure we both are about this moment in our private paradise.
We move together with confidence, the storm's rhythm matching our own as wind whips the palm trees outside and lightning turns our skin silver in fleeting moments. There's heat and intensity that rivals the tempest beyond our walls, but also this beautiful certainty—we're choosing this, choosing each other, while nature puts on its own passionate display for us. When I look into her eyes in that moment when we finally come together, I see everything—the girl I fell in love with in college, the woman she's become, and this perfect present moment that belongs entirely to us, cocooned in candlelight while the storm rages in wild celebration around our sanctuary.
Afterward, we collapse together in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, rain-cooled air drifting across our heated skin. I trace lazy patterns on her back while she catches her breath against my chest, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are soft with satisfaction and something deeper.
"God, you're amazing," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I love the way you move, the sounds you make..." My voice drops lower, rougher. "The way you look at me like that."
"Like what?" she asks, though I can feel her pulse quickening again at the heat in my gaze.
"Like you want to devour me," I say, my thumb brushing across her bottom lip. "Like you're thinking about what you want to do to me next."
Her eyesdarken at my words, at the way my hands are starting to map her skin again with deliberate intent. "Maybe I am," she whispers against my throat, letting her teeth graze the sensitive spot there that makes me groan.
"Tell me," I breathe, my hands growing bolder, more possessive. "Tell me what you're thinking."
I can feel desire stirring again at the reverence mixed with raw hunger in her voice, the way her touch is becoming less gentle and more demanding.
As we map the changes in each other's bodies and remember what we'd forgotten we'd lost, we're more deliberate. My hands are gentler now, reverent as they trace the small scar on her shoulder from that hiking accident three years ago, the new freckles from too much sun. She explores the broader expanseof my chest, the way my shoulders have filled out, how my skin tastes the same under her lips.
"Perfect," I murmur, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone, and she believes me because of the way I'm looking at her—like she's exactly what I want, right here, right now.
This time when we move together, it's with the assurance of people who know what they're doing, who want to explore every sensation, every response, every way we can make each other feel good. My thumb traces her bottom lip as she moves above me, and when she leans down to kiss me, it's deep and confident and full of the chemistry that's been building between us since we reconnected.
When she finally collapses against my chest afterward, both of us breathing hard and tangled in the sheets, the storm outside has gentled to match our new rhythm, as if it too is satisfied. Rain patters against the windows in a gentler cadence now, and the thunder has moved on across the ocean, leaving us in our own private world where candlelight flickers against rain-washed glass and the air smells of jasmine and sea salt and the intoxicating scent of us together.
I could drift off right here, wrapped in her warmth and the soft aftermath of what we've shared, but reality waits outside this room. I'm sure that Erika has already created a revised itinerary for the day. For now though, I want to stay in this bubble we've created.
"We should probably talk about what happens next," she says, though she's reluctant to introduce practical concerns into our emotional breakthrough.
"We should probably talk about what happens next," she says, though she's reluctant to introduce practical concerns into our emotional breakthrough.
"Eventually," I agree, but I make no move to increase the distance between us. "Right now, I'm perfectly happy being here with you, figuring out how this feels without worrying about how it works."
"How does this feel?" she asks.
"Like coming home," I say simply. "Like remembering something I thought I'd lost forever."
"That's exactly how it feels," she agrees, and I press a kiss to the top of her head because I can and because she's here and because after years of wondering "what if," we're finally exploring the answer.
We settle into comfortable silence,listening to the storm and ocean while processing everything we've shared tonight. Her head rests on my shoulder, my arm around her waist, both of us completely content to exist in this moment without needing to define it or plan what happens next.
The power flickers back on sometime later, sudden artificial light disrupting our candlelit intimacy and reminding us that the outside world still exists. We both squint at the brightness, then laugh at the way we've been perfectly happy in our storm-created sanctuary.
"Reality returns," Vada observes, though she makes no move to extract herself.
"Some reality," I correct, looking out the windows where the storm has moved on. "We're probably stuck inside for the rest of the day."
