Page 41 of Rockland

It’s simple, really. My erection was pressed into the crack of her ass. The one I’d just spanked. Pulled down those cute pajama pants—the ones that didn’t fit her when I first got here—and exposed her creamy skin.

No panties, just like I taught her.

After that, there was no stopping.

I knew she wanted me. Earlier, I sensed her in that doorway, watching.

I know how I make her feel.

Safe.

And nothing turns on Tess more than knowing a man is in charge. A man who will keep her safe. She’s always had that in her life.

But I bring something new to the table. Fulfilling a deeper craving she’s harbored. One I recognized the moment I met her. One that she thought she’s kept hidden. But now she knows, I recognize it in her.

She wants a man who’ll make her feel safe from herself. Who’ll let her be her softer self. Her younger self. A man who knows how strong and tough she is. And makes her leave those things at the door.

I am that man.

I give her boundaries. Keep her temper cooled. Make her eat, make her want to care for herself. When she starts to spin out of control I bring her all the way back.

I settle her soul.

And what she does to mine—what she’s always done to mine. She completes me.

I only feel whole when I’m in her presence.

What we’ve just done… that wasn’t fucking.

That was making love. And making love is dangerous.

Because, now, I can no longer ignore the fact that I’m in love with her. Though I’d been doing a pretty lousy job of it in the first place.

Now, living with her, going about daily routines, cooking, talking, laughing, I find I feel complete even when I’m not with her. Because even when I’m alone, it’s as if she’s within me. I’ll be going about my day, remember something she’s said earlier. Her snarky wit making me laugh. Her brilliant mind challenging me to think deeper.

Or I’ll find her sweater in my truck. Bring it to my face and inhale deeply.

She smells of strawberries and cream, lavender, Tess. And I need to be reminded of it, now.

We lie in the bed together, quiet. Each lost in our own thoughts. Each floating on that gentle wave that only comes after a satisfying climax. I wrap my arm so tightly around her I fear I might bruise her ribcage. I pull her close to me. Inhale that heavenly scent. Kiss the back of her neck.

Her hand slips behind my head. She’s stroking my hair, sending the best kind of chills down my spine.

I hold her in my arms and for once, I’m not the first one to fall asleep.

I stroke the smooth skin of her arms. Twirl a lock of her hair around my finger. Feel the peaceful cadence of her breathing.

All the while, pretending.

Imagining she’s mine. Burying the knowledge that in a few weeks, months, I’ll be gone.

And she’ll be here.

Our two lives no longer intertwined. My bed void of her soft body.

My heart torn in two.

In the morning, I wake before her. Slip my arm from beneath her body—she’s slept through the night curled against my chest as she did that night we watched movies on her couch and drifted off to sleep. Dressing quickly so as not to disturb her, I go down to the kitchen to start the coffee.