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Carter heads up onto the rocky cliffs, making his way up like a pro. I settle myself on the picnic blanket, finding a bottle of water and, as I suspected, plenty of snacks. The sky is just starting to turn pink as the sun sets, and I decide that’s the first thing I want to try and capture.
Because I haven’t worked much in pastels, it takes me a few tries to get a feel for the medium, and I can’t say that I’m completely adept at it. But eventually I figure out how to blend the pastels together correctly for the sky and the sea, and I sketch out the lighthouse with a pencil.
I feel the scene start to come alive on the page—the dark gray blue of the ocean, the pop of red of the lighthouse against the dark cliffs, the green of the pines, and the orange and pink of the sunset that casts all of the colors in a hazy glow. By the time I see Carter start to make his way down from the cliffs forty-five minutes later, the sky is a deep orange and the sun nearly gone. I worked quickly and it’s far from perfect, but it’s the first piece of art I’ve created in years. I can’t help but be proud of it.
“It’s beautiful, Angela,” Carter says as he comes up behind me.
“Thank you. I’m new to oil pastels but I think I’m getting the hang of it. Did you see anything good up there?”
“A pair of ospreys were building their nest. And I saw some gulls.” He sits down behind me on the blanket and folds me into his body.
“Carter,” I start. “I can’t—I don’t think I can adequately express how wonderful this was. I appreciate it—how hard you’re trying to make me happy. And I forgive you for all those years ago.” As I say this, I can feel the truth of it in my bones, as surely as I feel the sand under my toes.
“I wasn’t ready back then,” he says. “I never really explained it to you, but that’s all it was. It had nothing to do with you, and it was all my immaturity and idiocy. I was scared to lose you, so I didn’t even try. I wanted something real with you, and I think I knew that we were too young for it. Because even then, even when we were just kids…” His voice starts to crack and he tightens his arms around me. “Even then, I knew that you were the love of my life. The only person I would ever feel this way about. And I still—I still love you, Angel.”
I turn to look at him and see that his expression is somber and focused. Something inside of me finally unlocks, as the last piece of the puzzle clicks into place. I never thought about it like that—that he walked away because he was scared. Becausehe realized that the thing between us was bigger and more important than we were ready for at twenty. It doesn’t change what he did. But knowing why allows me to finally let myself feel everything for him that I’ve been holding back.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever felt that way about, too.” I tell him softly. “And I still feel it.”
Admitting something so big almost hurts to say, and fear washes through me at being so vulnerable. I guess that makes sense, because he’s the person who could hurt me the most. But it’s important, I think, that he knows that he’s the only person for me, too. That he hasn’t been alone in longing for there to be an us again.
“God, Angela, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that. How longI’vewaited to tell you all of that,” Carter says.
He places a kiss on the side of my face, and I lean my head back against his shoulder, melting into his warmth. I want his mouth on mine, though, and from this angle I can’t reach him. I move from between his legs.
“Lay down,” I tell him.
“I like it when you tell me what to do,” he says.
He lays back onto the blanket, and I crawl over to him and straddle him, leaning in so I can kiss him gently, right there on the mouth that just uttered the words “I love you.”
“I like it when you do that even more,” he says after I break the kiss.
And then we’re devouring each other, my lips parting for his and his tongue sweeping through my mouth. This kiss feels more raw and vulnerable than any other we’ve shared, as open and honest as the words we just exchanged.
Carter’s lips against mine have me shifting my weight so that it’s fully pressed against him, rocking my hips against his, heat building in my core.
“I want you inside me,” I tell him, feeling him grow hard and thick through the layers of our clothes.
“Here?” he asks.
“Here,” I confirm. Because the beach is deserted and quiet and we’re protected from the sand by the blanket, and it feels right. But mostly I just don’t want to wait any longer. I want him right now, and forever.
Carter lifts my sweater off of me, and I undo my bra as he rips his own shirt off. We hastily take everything else off, laughing as we do, both caught up in the joy of this moment and how badly we both want this. I press against him, luxuriating in the feel of his bare skin against mine, in the fact that I have him, that he’s here for good.
“I want your pussy, Angel,” he tells me, dragging my hips down so that they’re flush against his, the head of his cock nudging against my clit.
We briefly discuss birth control, and I tell him that I have an IUD, and we agree that since neither one of us has had sex in a few years, that we’re safe.
“I want to see how wet you are for me,” he says, rolling his hips so that his cock strokes over my clit again and again. “Fucking soaked,” he says, groaning. “I’ve dreamed about having my cock inside you like this again so many times.”
I try to respond, but all I can do is cry out as he replaces his cock with his fingers, slowly rubbing my clit with his thumb in small circles.
“Fuck, Carter, that’s so good,” I say as he increases the pressure and speed. I feel the orgasm start to build inside of me, but as it does, Carter removes his fingers.
“I want to watch you come on my cock,” he says, meeting my eyes.
I nod, and then he moves so that his cock presses against me once more, the tip nudging inside of me. I move my hips, andslowly take the rest of him inside myself, moaning at the feel of him.
