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I would give anything to have him stay – anything to make him want a life with me as much as I want one with him. But Dylan has spent his whole life waiting for the moment he could pack up his life and take off on the adventure of a lifetime.
He's committed to the bachelor life and if he stays – if I ask him to stay – he'll resent me. Then he'll end up leaving anyway. I'm sure of it.
So much for thinking a few months would be long enough. I'm starting to think no amount of time with Dylan would be long enough.
“Claire?”
I become aware of the way he's looking at me, the questions in his eyes clear.
“Think we could swap positions?” I ask.
He frowns, but then obliges me, rolling us so I'm on top. Yes, this is what I want.
“Better?”
Yes. I felt too out of control before and too emotionally restless to have him make love to me the way he was about to. Instead of answering him, I kiss him, intertwining my fingers with his and sliding our hands above his head before deepening our kiss. Hearing him moan underneath me gives me the courage to keep going. Tonight, I want to show him how I feel, since I can't possibly tell him. I'm not even sure I could verbalise it if I had to.
This man. This man who taunted me and rejected me when I was sixteen, who's loved me and shown me everything as anadult, who's pushed my buttons, my boundaries, and made me question everything I thought about myself and what I wanted in life is someone I don't want to let go of.
He untangles our hands so he can pull me closer. As the emotions start to overwhelm me, I wrench my mouth from his.
I kiss his face, his neck, his chest, making my way down his body, exploring and adoring every inch of him. Once I get to his large and heavy erection, I free him and stroke him. His hands tangle in my hair as I beg for his pleasure with my mouth, doing my best to drive him towards oblivion.
“Claire, stop. I want to be with you. Ineedto be with you.”
His voice sounds as raw, strangled, and frayed as my heart is. The moment I stop to look at him, he reaches for me, ridding me of my skirt and panties before placing me underneath him again.
I don't have time to tell him I want to be on top. The night is still young and I'll make sure I end up on top next time. Right now, I can't move as he stares down at me and touches me, making a sound low in his throat as he explores the slick heat between my legs.
And then he's there, spreading my legs further apart with his hips and body and joining us together. I cry out and hold on to him as I welcome him inside, knowing this togetherness will never be possible with him after tonight. When I look up, his eyes are locked on mine. He holds my gaze as he makes love to me, making me feel every move and sensation, both in my heart and in my building climax.
My release rushes up on me, both emotionally and physically. Thankfully, he doesn't stop when he hears the wretched sob that escapes me; he merely kisses me as the tears slide down my face and succumbs to his own pleasure.
When it's all over, he holds me and I cling to him, knowing it won't be the last time I'll cry over the man in my arms.
29
Claire
“How are you doing?”
The playlist playing on the jukebox at Brody's is full of upbeat dance tunes, and the mood in the bar is celebratory. I'm doing my best to drum up some smiles and fake some enthusiasm at Dylan's farewell party, but it's clear Kara isn't buying it.
Dylan has spent the entire time circulating and talking to everyone, laughing loudly and listening to people tell their own travelling stories. Aside from greeting me when I first walked through the door and looking over at me occasionally, he's barely spent any time with me at all.
Maybe he's dreading saying goodbye as much as I am, or maybe he just hasn't gotten around to having a drink with me tonight. Whatever his reasons are for practically ignoring me, I know Dylan would be disappointed if I left before the night was over. Even if waiting for a minute of his time before Austin drives him to the airport feels like waiting for the end of the world, I can't walk out the door yet.
“I'm fine,” I say.
The giant knot of barbed wire sitting in my gut says otherwise, and so does the grief sitting there, waiting for the right time to make itself known, but now isn't the time. Especially with my brother in the room.
Kara rolls her eyes. “Sure you are.”
I don't bother contradicting her. In the end, I don't even need to distract my friend from her line of questioning because Austin starts dancing to one of the eighties tracks playing on the jukebox and Kara can't seem to tear her eyes away from him.
“I should be asking if you're okay.”
Kara whips her head around to look at me. “Why wouldn't I be?”
