The villa door isn’t locked. By the light of the moon, and from muscle memory, I pad on bare feet through the living area to our bedroom. Ours. Not mine or his, ours. Hunter lies in his naked glory, the crumpled sheet tossed aside. His magnificent body takes up the full spread of the bed. Crawling from the base of the bed, up and on top of his body, intent on kissing my way from his glorious ass to his neck, the last thing I expect is to be shoved onto the floor!
“Fuck!” Hunter sends me rolling onto the floor, turning on the light.
“Surprise!”
As soon as he recognizes me, his eyes soften and his arms pull me back onto the bed. Who else would have broken into his room—oh, Tash.
“Liv, does this mean?” His hands cup mine, eyes searching for answers I want to give but can’t. Not yet. He needs to fight for me and for us. He broke us, now I need to know he’ll never break us again.
“I’ve got some hours to kill until breakfast.”
“Then you are still …”
“Hunter, please. If you want me to go, I will.”
As quickly as he flung me to the floor, Hunter turns me onto my back, spreading my legs and repeats the afternoon with kisses at my toes. How is it he knows what I need and when I need it? How is it that I can love him but not trust that he won’t walk away again?
“I’ll never be the one to turn you away. You’ll leave me, I’ll never leave you.” He says the words, but they are only words.
Not in all our years or nights together have we made love with such intensity. Almost as if we know this could be our last, nothing is left unsaid—by Hunter—or undone. My body shudders under his touch, as time and time again his kisses leave wet trails up my inner thighs before his tongue lashes between my legs. Helpless and unable to reach his cock, I scratch at his hair, fisting it and pushing his face until it’s almost inside me. His tongue, nose, and hands become a symphony, tuning me until my cries are of what we’d had, lost, and found again.
Even after I come, Hunter doesn’t let me bring him the same satisfaction, at least not immediately. He holds me to his chest, playing with my hair and plying my face with kisses as our eyes dance together in the moonlight. Have I ever felt so cherished or so loved? I don’t want to waste precious minutes thinking of reasons. It’s enough that this moment is ours, to hold onto, and whatever happens tomorrow, we have tonight. We almost fall asleep, cuddling tightly, our hands moving from loving strokes to soft caresses. A lone tear threatens to spoil the moment.
I had loved Mitch. He had been the one to heal my hurt after Hunter broke my heart. I’d loved Mitchel enough to agree to marry him. I don’t feel guilty about this time with Hunter, after all, technically I’m single, and Mitch has done far worse with so many more. The tear isn’t from sadness about being with Hunter, in his bed, arms, and life. It’s from not knowing my happily ever after. Can I trust either of these men not to break my heart again? Can I walk away from either or both?
My body betrays my head. Rolling ever so subtly until one leg crosses his. Dragging my toe up his inner leg until his erection tells me he might not be fully awake but at least part of him is willing to play. Hunter doesn’t open his eyes even when my lips press against his. Working until he opens to me, his hands almost lifting me into position. Chest to chest, I slide down until we are joined together. Hunter holds my hips still as our mouthsdevour each other. My breath quickens as I try to raise and thrust, only to be denied by the strength of his hold.
“Why?” I break away from kisses to cry.
“Are you sure this is what you want? Me? Now?” Hunter doesn’t hide his desire, his passion. In typical Hunter fashion, his concern is for me.
“Yes.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Right now, I want you to make me forget all my yesterdays and tomorrows.”
It doesn’t make sense, and yet it makes perfect sense.
For one night only, I want Hunter to be mine.
He claims me. Makes love to me and then fucks me until we cry. Real tears. Full of every emotion we’ve left spent in our bed. All the hurt, promises, and regret. Full of joy, and sorrow but still holding onto hope. By the time we sleep, the sun is already making its intention for the day. Another day of perfect sunshine.
If only my future were as clear.
The Morning After
Hunter
I can barely fuckingwalk to the restaurant. I’m exhausted and physically spent. How many times did we try to roll over for sleep before coming back together? Three? Four? Each time could have been our last. Each kiss could have been the last time my lips touched her neck, cheek, and breasts. Each breath could have been the last time I drew in the fragrance of vanilla, sand, surf, and Liv.
It’s never been a coincidence that my name for her sounds like “live.” Occasionally, especially around Mitch, I’ve made the gentlemanly attempt to call her Olivia or Livia. But in my heart, and when it’s just the two of us, she’s always been Liv.
Mitch and the girls are already seated when I arrive. I catch Olivia’s eyes momentarily before she looks away, embarrassed? This is such a fucked-up situation, and if I owned my cock orballs, I’d be on the first flight out. Instead, I’m agreeing to watch the woman I love, love, and will probably always fucking love, spend a day with another man.
“Morning, Hunter,” Tash croons, and I wince. Offering her a slight hug and kiss on the cheek means I can do the same with Jess, and then Olivia.
“Morning ladies, Mitch.”
