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In seconds, his jeans are undone and I’m impaled. We move as one, though not in any sort offrenzy. Instead, we stare into each other’s eyes. My arms are wound around his neck, he cups my ass to hold me tightly in place and nudges up into me until I’m as full as can be. One of his hands slides up to my lower back and he presses my pelvis against him. We find a slow, intense tantric cadence and every nerve ending in my clit blooms and pulses with every gyration.
“I love you,” he says as the sun dips below the horizon and the sky turns into a vibrant canvas of orange and pink, reflecting off the glassy waters of Puget Sound. The Olympic Mountains in the distance are silhouetted against the fiery backdrop.
My core spasms and tingles. I lean in until Cillian’s breath mingles with mine. “I loveyou.”
Our lips connect, but our exploratory, sensual kisses are also deliberately slow, matching the rhythm of our hips. As the last streaks of the sun paint the sky, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world. We climax in pulsing waves, leaving me dizzy.
I love—and I’m loved by—this amazing man.
Moments later, after we straighten our clothes and pack up the remnants of our rooftop dinner, we’re walking hand-in-hand toward the elevator and a sudden, bold thought strikes me.
What if there were a way to protect what we have? To ensure nothing and no one could ever come between us, despite my secrets and the looming deadline.
Gripping Cillian’s hand tighter, I stop in my tracks. My heart beats wildly in my chest. Yet, what I’m about to say feels as right as every step we’ve taken so far.
“You ready to go home?” He presses the button to the elevator.
My entire body buzzes with excitement and nerves. I bounce on my toes and grab his other hand and face him. He tilts his head and looks at me curiously.
“I have a crazy idea.” I thread his fingers with mine.
He pulls me against his body. “Oh yeah? Lay it on me.”
“Let’s get married.”
fourteen
Cillian
One Week Later
I’m discombobulated.
Stunned. Conflicted. Also, tempted…
Leaning back in my chair in my office at the jobsite, I stare at the ceiling. The low hum of the portable air conditioner fills the silence as I collect my thoughts.
Since Ivy blurted out the idea of getting married last week on the rooftop of this very building—moments after we first declared our love for one another—I’m more confusedthan ever.
I almost took her up on it. Summer’s going to be over before we know it and neither of us are ready for the inevitable changes ahead. Our entire relationship has been impulsive, why not whisk off to Vegas?
Not wanting to quash her passion and impulsivity by telling her no, I spoke my truth, though I tried to handle the delivery with care. We have something special. I see us having a future. I also explained I didn’t want her to make a hasty, life-altering decision she might regret later.
She was disappointed, but we agreed to revisit in a week—tonight.
I know we’re not ready to take this step. We have too many obstacles and realities to contend with. She’s leaving for Stanford in three weeks. Her parents have no idea I exist. My family doesn’t know much about her either, for that matter. Ivy and I have been living in our own bubble since we met, but our lives are not fully melded yet.
Until then, why add the pressure of marriage?
My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s a text from Ivy.
Ivy:Six more hours. Can’t wait to show you how much I’ve missed you...
Attached is a close-up of her sucking on her index finger.
My dick digs what I see and fills to capacity. Jesus, the effect this woman has on me. It’s unbelievable.
How am I going to get by without her? I can’t imagine not waking up with her wrapped in my arms. For nearly two months, the first thing I do every morning and the last thing I do at night is make love to her. She’s everything I didn’t know I needed.
