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ass, and I curse at how good she feels.

“Come inside me, Brooks,” she whimpers. “Fill me up.”

My eyes close in ecstasy.

Fill me up. 

Fuck.

“Give me your cum first, Henley. Come on me.”

“Harder,” she begs. “Break me.”

My hips lurch forward, pushing her into the edge of the ceramic painfully. It’s her undoing. She screams out my name, her pussy throbbing and clenching me in a way that pulls the cum straight from my dick. My release explodes inside her as she spasms around me.

We remain still, eyes anchored in the mirror. Feelings of past hurt and an unresolved love stare back at us. Our eyes reflect the desires of our heart so heavily neither one of us are brave enough to look away.

“I wish I had my camera right now,” I tell her. “Anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful?”

“You.” She stands, and I fall from her body. “Only you.”

How is that possible? How do men and women not throw themselves at her feet? Her long dark hair splayed like a halo around her creamy skin. Kisses of the sun pressed into the coloring on her face like a map to happiness. Full lips screaming to be worshipped, begging to be teased and tasted. How do her melancholy eyes not drag people in, daring them to get lost in her darkness? How does her hesitant smile not break their hearts wide open and ruin them for anyone else?

I place a delicate kiss on her shoulder. “I know it makes me an asshole, but I’m glad. I’m glad I see into your soul like no one else is brave enough to do. It’s fucking sublime.”

“I love you, Brooks Riley. I just hope I know how to love you right.”

“We’ll find our way,” I tell her, ignoring the swirl of doubt twisting in my stomach. The truth is, we’re lost more than we’re found to one another. We’re caught up in the damage of our love, and that pain seems to be the only way we know how to love one another. “Wait there.”

I grab a wad of tissue paper, turning her to face me, eyes lost in hers as I dab between her legs, drying the evidence of what we just shared from her bare thighs. “I didn’t use a condom.”

She shrugs, adjusting her dress to cover up her body.

I pull her toward me, my lips pushing against hers. “Nothing between us anymore, Henley.”

“Nothing between us,” she agrees.

I smile, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I’ve fucked you nice and dirty. Now let's go home so I can do it hard and slow.”

30

HENLEY

THREE MONTHS LATER

“I picked up a job in Cairo.”

I step from the shower as he hands me a towel. “Oh?”

“Mm,” he confirms, eyes tracking over my naked body in want.

We’ve been living in an easy bliss for twelve weeks. Three uninterrupted months of just us touching and loving one another, acting like giddy tourists. Exploring the buzzing city we’d found each other in.

We rode bikes over the bustle of the Brooklyn Bridge.

We stuffed ourselves full of pizza in Little Italy.

We waited in line until our feet hurt and our tempers flared to stand atop of the Empire State Building and share a kiss in the twilight.

We rode the ferry across to Staten Island to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

Brooks surprised me with a carriage ride around Central Park.

We got lost staring at books in the New York State Library and ate pretzels bigger than our heads.

We sat in awe in the theaters on Broadway and watched show after show.

We went to comedy shows.

Ate at the top-rated restaurants in the city.

We lived.

We explored.

Together.

Brooks finished his gig a month ago and has stuck around while I hit the tail end of my current course.

I towel off my hair, pretending to ignore the hardening cock in his boxers. “When?”

“Starts in a week.”

I drop the towel loosely at my side. “Oh.”

“We knew this would happen, Squirrel.”

“I know,” I assure him, working to rid the panic in his eyes. “When do you leave?”

“Come here.” He curls a finger up, beckoning me over.

I go without resistance.

“Two days.”

“Fuck.”

“Mm.” His lips touch my neck, resting there as he plants soft kisses on my damp skin over and over again.

I can feel the words on his lips. I know he wants to ask me to come with him. He wants me to see Cairo with him.

“Don’t ask. Don’t ruin what we’ve started before we’re ready.”

“Before you’re ready,” he combats quietly without animosity.

I ignore the comment.

“When will you finish?”

He grazes his teeth along my clavicle. “With enough time to fly to Bali before I get on the boat.”

“The non-contactable boat.”

He chuckles. “Sounds foreign, considering the world of technology we live in.”

“Is it safe?” I question for the millionth time.

“Baby.”

“Yeah, yeah. I might change my flight out too. If you’re leaving in two days, there’s not much point in me hanging around.”

“You’ll love South America,” he tells me. “We’ll do it together again one day.”

“Then Ireland.”

“Green grass,” he whispers.

“Five months.” I feel sick at the thought.

Knuckle rested under my chin, he lifts it, lips brushing against mine. “We’ve done longer.”

I kiss him. Savagely. Because he’s right. Five months is a blip in the ocean compared to what we’ve trekked through.

Brooks meets my fervor with his own. I can feel the despair in the caress of his lips. I taste the melancholy on his tongue. Preparing ourselves to say goodbye without dispute or betrayal may very well be the hardest thing either of us has ever had to do.

But it’s necessary. I’ve come to terms with that. If we can survive the distance while we navigate this new normal, we can survive anything. Our love will be stronger.

“Hen, baby, put your lips on my dick?”

A desperate plea for an intimacy shared between lovers.

“Kiss my cock for me.”

I fold onto my knees, giving in to his request without preamble, words unnecessary. Air pushes from his nostrils forcefully, relief and hunger hooding his lids and pulling at his

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