Page 40 of Love, Take Two
"The perfect combination," I agree, carrying her to bed where we collapse together in complete contentment.
As we drift toward sleep, it hit me that tonight was a big deal. It wasn't just about being close, but about sharing something amazing and magical, a real kind of passion that just makes everything else seem to pale in comparison.
Tomorrow brings separation for bachelor and bachelorette activities, but tonight we have privacy and satisfaction and the growing certainty that what we're building together includes the best of everything.
14
VADA
The first thing I notice when I wake up is Emory's steady breathing beneath my ear, and the second is that I don't want to move from this perfect position. We're tangled together in his bed, morning sunlight streaming through the ocean-view windows. Lazy contentment fills his body and matches my own.
"Good morning," his voice is rough with sleep as his arm tightens around me.
"Morning," I murmur against his chest, pressing a kiss to his warm skin. "What time do we have to be responsible adults?"
"Mmm," he considers this, his hand stroking down my spine in a way that makes me arch against him. "Bachelor party boat leaves at ten. Your spa thing starts at nine-thirty."
"That gives us..." I lift my head to check the clock, "about an hour."
"An hour," he repeats, his eyes darkening as his hands frame my face. "What should we do with a whole hour?"
Instead of answering, I lean down to kiss him, soft and slow at first, then deeper as he responds with the kind of hunger that makes my pulse race. His hands slide into my hair, holding me close as I settle more fully on top of him.
"Vada," he breathes against my mouth, and there's something in the way he says my name that makes everything else disappear.
"I know," I whisper back, already moving against him in ways that make him groan softly.
What follows is unhurried and perfect – the kind of morning intimacy that feels both languid and desperate, like we're trying to memorize each other before the separation. He worships every inch of my skin with his mouth and hands, making me gasp and arch beneath him until I'm completely lost in sensation.
When I finally fall apart in his arms, crying out his name, he follows me over the edge with my name on his lips like a prayer.
Afterward, we lie breathless and tangled together, neither of us wanting to acknowledge that we need to get ready for our respective activities.
"I want to spend the day with you" I admit, tracing patterns on his chest.
"Same," he says, pressing a kiss to my hair.
"It's just fishing and spa treatments," I point out, though I'm already calculating exactly how many hours until we see each other tonight.
“Twelve hours without you," he corrects, tilting my chin up so I'm looking at him. "The longest we've been apart since we got here."
Before I can respond to that confession, there's an energetic call down the hallway.
"BACHELOR PARTY ASSEMBLY!" Derek's voice booms through the wooden barrier. "The boat awaits!"
"Derek," Emory mutters with fond exasperation, but he's already reaching for his clothes. “Perfect timing."
Twenty minutes later, we're standing at the marina with the rest of the wedding party, and I'm surprised by how difficult this goodbye feels. It's only a day apart, but Emory has become such a constant presence that the separation feels oddly significant.
"Have fun with your cultural fishing experience," I say, straightening his shirt collar with the excuse to touch him one more time.
"Have fun being pampered," he replies, catching my hands and holding them against his chest. "Though you're already perfect."
"GET A ROOM!" Derek shouts cheerfully from the fishing boat, where the other groomsmen are already loading equipment. "Save some of that energy for tonight's reunion!"
"Derek," I call out with amusement, "try not to fall overboard."
"No promises!" Derek replies with obvious excitement about whatever chaos he's planning for the bachelor party.
