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“Not yet. Not until you come on my cock again, I need to feel it first,” he states with that determined look in his eye.

“Then make me come,” I challenge him.

Oh my god, I just told Warren to make me come. I never thought I would utter such words and here I am just acting all sultry and sexy and saying things like make me come. Who the hell am I? I’ve never said anything like that to a man before. But this isn’t just any man, this is Warren, the guy I’ve fawned over for years in silent longing. The guy who beat up a boy in high school for spreading gossip about popping my cherry. He’sso much more than any guy I’ve ever slept with. I never wanted them to the point of obsession.

His hand on my ass clenches and he tilts me one way as his hips go another and he hits that spot deep inside no man has ever found before and I shatter. Screaming in pleasure, I feel him finally allow himself release.

His hips press hard against mine and I can feel his cock inside me pulsing and twitching and it only elongates my own climax.

“Fucking hell Bambi. Yes,” he growls against my chest, burying his face in my boobs.

Every muscle in his body contracts and tightens as he stills inside me waiting for every last throb of his climax to subside. The hand holding mine above my head loosens and I slip my arms around his shoulders and hold him to me, not wanting to let him go yet. He wraps both arms around my back and lets some of his weight rest on me, trapping me in his hold, just as tight as my own.

Neither of us wants to let go or separate. I’m not stupid. I know I can’t stop him from leaving. No matter how much I want to. I always knew it would be the case if I were to get involved with him. We both silently accept this for what it is while we hold each other. One night. One time to be with each other and hold these memories for the years to come.

Tears begin to well behind my closed eyes but I won’t allow myself to cry. Not here, not now. I don’t want to ruin this night or make him feel guilty for leaving. I’ll save them for when he’s gone. When the nights are long, cold, and dark and I know he’s out there happy. And possibly with another woman.

Much to my delight, Warren doesn’t kick me out after our sexcapade is over. Instead, he pulls me close, still completely nude, and cuddles with me. Engulfing me in his warmth, I don’t fight it when I fall asleep in his arms, rocked to a peaceful sleepby the gentle swaying of the boat. I always liked being on the water. I find it calming and centering. I am a water sign after all.

♥

Dull, grey morning light creeps in through the small windows in Warren’s room. With the oncoming winter and lack of sunlight I don’t have a clue what time it could be, as I peer sleepily through slitted eyes. It could be six in the morning or two in the afternoon. There’s no knowing without checking a clock or my phone. Which I don’t have because I left it in my room in Gigi’s house.

The heavy arm slung over my waist is attached to an even larger body that’s practically wrapped around me from behind. Spooning with Warren is a next level experience to wake up to.

I ignore the dawning, or already dawned, day settling back against Warren’s chest, the coarse hair of his beard rubbing against the back of my neck. If he’s not ready to get up yet, then neither am I. Detaching from him will only make the loss real.

Sadly, there’s only so long you can pretend to be asleep before it becomes obvious, and reality takes over.

Warren stirs behind me, and I can hear him take in a deep breath. No doubt preparing himself to tell me to get the hell out and never speak of this again. Even though I knew it was coming, it still stings.

“Bambi.” His voice is quiet and reverent but also sorrowful. It’s good to know I’m not the only one suffering in the light of day.

“You can stay as long as you like, but I do have some things I need to do today. You’re more than welcome to help me organize supplies. I wouldn’t say no to the help.”

Basically, his way of saying we’re still friends but what we did last night has no bearing on the future. Got it.

“No thanks. I should probably get to the shop today.” I try to play off the awkward morning after as easily as he does, but I’m not as convincing.

His arm tightens around me for a long moment and he presses a soft kiss to my shoulder, before disentangling himself from me.

“I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your books. I know that you care about them more than your own life,” he jokes.

He’s not far off, I do care about my books very highly, and I’d gladly run into a burning building to save them. They are paper after all, they burn fast and easy.

Warren’s lighthearted joking makes it easier to get out of bed. I have to wrap myself in the sheet and hunt around the bedroom and kitchen for my clothes. We’re both quiet as we dress, but it’s a comfortable silence. It doesn’t get awkward again till we’re in the kitchen and it’s time for me to leave.

My fingers tangle in my hair trying to get it to appear somewhat like I wasn’t manhandled and fucked all night, as I try to find the courage to speak.

“So,” I begin a bit unsteadily. “Do we just pretend like everything’s normal, and nothing happened?”

He stops prepping his coffee and turns to face me, an unreadable expression on his face. Like he’s trying to figure out if he really wants that or not.

With slow measured movements, Warren crosses the small space and slides a hand around my neck, stroking a thumb across my cheek in a way that feels more than just friendly.

“Nothing will ever be normal again, and I could never forget last night.” He pauses before the inevitablebutI know is coming. “But I’m still leaving. And what we did was just for us. It can’t be anything more.”

Leaning in close, he presses a heartbreakingly tender kiss to my lips, lingering long enough to make me reconsider hisoffer to stay. Maybe I could convince him that last night wasn’t enough. Before I can slip my hands inside his pants and start convincing, he pulls away.