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I love this man.

“Who is it?” His voice is stern through the door.

“Taron?” Mine is clear, cutting the fear.

It’s quiet on the other side.

My eyes go to the peep-hole in the middle of the door, and my breath stills. Is he looking at me right now? Will he open the door?

The seconds tick past on heartbeats… one… two… three…

Anxiety builds, tightening my chest until I hear the bolt turn. The door slides open quietly, and my eyes fill with tears when I see his beautiful face, his hypnotic eyes.

“Taron.” Rushing forward, I’m in his arms.

His scent surrounds me, and it all comes flooding back. All the nights we spent hanging on each other’s voices, living for just the sight and sound of each other like oxygen. All the times I lay in my bed, memorizing his face through the flickering screen. All the teasing and flirting, all the wishes and promises.

“You’re here.” His voice vibrates my very core.

His strong arms are around me, and my head is sheltered against his chest. I hear his heart beat, his breath swirl in and out.

“You’re real.” Tears stream down my cheeks.

I hug him with all my strength, wishing I could bleed my soul into his, give him whatever he needs, heal whatever’s hurting him, whatever’s making him say words he doesn’t mean.

He steps back, guiding me into his apartment and closing the door, turning the lock. His eyes are so weary. Small lines mark the corners, and his beard is thicker. He’s lost weight. He’s still tall, towering over me, but my brother’s right. He’s changed.

“Noel…” He slides his fingers along the line of my hair, and more tears flood my eyes.

His touch is the same.

I hold his cheeks, guiding his face to mine and kissing him. He leans into me, pressing his hand against the door behind me. His mouth opens, his tongue slides along mine, but his muscles are stiff, like he’s holding back, fighting against something.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lift my lips to his ear. “I’ve waited so long to feel you in my arms again.”

His shoulders collapse, his resistance crumbles, and his arms go around my waist, gathering me to him. So much time has passed. I know he aches for me as much as I do for him. I remember the night we thought he’d come home, the twisting of my heart in my chest at the thought I might see him again.

It’s all here right now.

We don’t speak. He kisses me again, and the heat we’ve always shared flares to life. His hands move down my back, sliding under my shirt, finding my skin. A noise seeps from my throat, and I pull my shirt over my head.

With every kiss, every touch, we’ve been moving, stumbling backwards, until now we’re in his bedroom. He winces as he removes his shirt, almost like he’s been in a fight. I scan his chest for scars but see none. The lines in his torso are deeper. Yes, he’s lost weight, but he’s still so ripped.

My face is in the middle of his torso, and I rise to press my mouth to his broad shoulder, planting a kiss against his hot skin. Salt is on my tongue, and I feel his palm against my back, his other hand fumbling with my bra. Reaching around, I quickly remove it, and our bare bodies press together.

“I’ve dreamed of this so many times,” he groans.

His hand is on my face, and I feel his hardness pressing against my stomach.

“I couldn’t live without you one more day.” My voice is a gasp, and my hands are at his waist, unbuckling his belt so fast.

The space between my thighs is hot and pulsing. I’m electric all over, every touch stoking my need hotter.

“Noel…” He groans a weak protest I cover with my mouth as he sits on the side of the bed.

Shoving my pants off, I climb onto his lap in a straddle, feeling his thick cock against my thighs. I’m throbbing and hot. I’ve touched myself so many times, given myself so many long-distance orgasms to his face on a screen, his voice on my laptop.

His fingers glide lightly over the skin of my ass, and I rise up on my knees, dropping firmly, seating him fully inside me.