Page 64 of Sand in My Boots

Yes. Absolutely.

Does that mean I’ll change my thinking?

Nope.

With the bowl of popcorn in my lap, I watch as she pushes a strand of wayward blond hair behind her ears. The joy has been drained from her, and for that, I feel guilty. Maybe it was a mistake to spend this week together. Maybe we should have left the past in the past and been adults and not gotten naked together.

“You got drinks?” I wonder instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

Her expression lights up. “Oh, yeah. Be right back.” She scurries off inside again, leaving me with popcorn and a heavy heart.

Suck it up, Fairbanks. Juliana Langley won’t ever be more than a pipe dream. Accept it.

“But I don’t want to.” The acidic words leave an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Thankfully, Juli reappears, two bottles of beer dangling from her fingers.

“Back in Georgia, this is my go-to when I need to drown my sorrows.”

Not addressing her comment directly, I utter, “That’s a big ask of such a small bottle.”

Her eyes shift between me and her chair, she mumbles, “Fuck it all,” and the next thing I know, she’s climbing on my lap. I have to readjust the bowl of popcorn and my legs to accommodate her, but you won’t hear me complaining. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but also the only place in the world I want to be right now.

Somewhat settled into place, she leans down and unpauses the movie, her back leaning against my chest.

Instinctively, my arms swing around, drawing her closer to me. It takes less than ten seconds to breathe her scent in, the combination of coconut and ocean appeasing my nostrils. Juli places her hands on my forearms, her fingers dragging lazily up and down the skin.

With her this close, my cock takes notice, thinking it’s time to come out and play. I inhale, willing it to behave. It’s not time yet, not until later. If Juli feels me getting hard underneath her, she doesn’t let it show.

We sit cuddled on the chair for a good thirty minutes. My attention for the movie is half-hearted at best, my mind wandering back to the fun times of this week. When our beers and bowl of popcorn are empty, she hurries back in for refills.

We’ve each drunk two beers, but I hardly feel anything. Not accustomed to drinking heavily, I would think they’d affect me more, but they only seem to make things relating to Juli more acute.

The way her breath hitches every so often.

How she shifts her ass from side to side, trying to get more comfortable.

The way she cuddles up closer, bringing her legs to her chest.

As the movie draws to a close, Juli reaches her hand back, rubbing up and down my neck. Couldn’t tell you if it’s for comfort or something else, but I don’t dare ask, allowing her to take the lead on what we do next.

She flips herself, resting her thighs on the side of mine. Her eyes full of lust, she closes the gap between our mouths. Her tongue darts out, skimming the bottom lip before disappearing.

“We should take this inside. This chair can’t be comfortable for you.”

“With you so close, I didn’t notice.” Which isn’t the complete truth, but my focus was hardly on how uncomfortable the chair is. It was more attuned to keeping certain appendages under control. “If that’s what you want, lead the way.”

I expect her to spryly jump up, but she doesn’t move right away. Instead, her mouth inches closer, her lips parting. At the last moment, she brings them to mine, intending on a chaste kiss. But I’m not having it.

Careful not to let her fall, I stand up, my arms gripping below her ass. Our mouths connected, her legs wrap around my waist. For a minute, I relish the kiss, the feel of our lips fused, under their own control. I give Juli full rein, letting her set the pace, dominating the kiss. She doesn’t abuse the power, and soon I’m pulling away for a breather. And also to get us inside.

“Hang on tight, cutie.”

She giggles against my mouth, my lips vibrating with the feel. Man, I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to give this up. This is too good.

That thought in mind, I start for the bedroom, not caring that the slider stays open. My heart races knowing what’s coming, but I don’t want to go fast. I want this time—our probable last time—to be slow, a culminating act to the whirlwind of the week.

“Make love to me, Cameron.”

Her words are my undoing.