Page 68 of The Publicity Stunt

If this is the universe’s way of giving me a do-over, I don’t realize it. I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and repeat, “I love you, April.”

I wish I could explain the feeling I get when I look into her eyes. How the sound of her voice gives me butterflies. How the sound of her name makes me smile so hard, sometimes I forget what I’m doing. How everything I’ve been through and everything I’ve yet to experience, all of it, is just so I could get to her.

I love her so much. Of course, I do. How could I not?

“You don’t have to say it back,” I hurry to add and she shuts me up with a kiss.

“I love you too,” she whispers around our kiss. “I love you more.”

Smiling, I pull back to look at her. “Impossible.” My arms tighten around her waist. I smile because simply standing next to her makes me eternally grateful for my existence. Because even though there are books and movies about love—the classics, the contemporaries—in which all the greats compare love to the twinkling of stars, the distance to the moon, or the vastness of the universe. Only now am I realizing how infinitely ordinary it actually is.

It’s that little portion of her hair toward the back that’s slightly less red than the rest. It’s the way she smiles every time she catches me looking at her. Or the way she hugs me even when I’m not sad.

But most of all, I smile because I’m in love with April Moore and it’s my sheer dumb luck that she’s in love with me too.

“Also, I’m sorry,” I say.

April frowns. “Sorry?”

“For being the guy who says ‘I love you’ during sex.”

At this she laughs and kisses my nose. “I love you.”

Twice she’s said it and I don’t think I’ve processed those words yet.

April Moore loves me.

I break apart her legs with my knees and kiss her cheek. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” April isn’t a virgin, but I’ve read that it hurts if you haven’t had sex for a long time. The last thing I want to do is cause her pain.

She nods and I raise myself up between her spread legs as she guides me to her entrance. When the head of my dick slips in, I look at her and she bites her lip, nodding. I move my eyes back to where we’re connected and slowly push into her. Bit by bit. I’m halfway in and April whimpers. “Too much?” I ask.

She shakes her head and I pull back, only to thrust forward again. Her nails sink into my shoulders, back arching, pushing her stomach into mine until I’m completely enveloped in her warmth. Fuuuck …

We groan simultaneously, and I slide out of her until just the head of my cock remains, before plunging back inside. “Oh, my God.” April’s legs wrap around my hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of my back, tightening to keep me there when I’m deep inside her.

My head falls to her shoulder. I press my lips against her collarbone, then up her neck until our mouths are crushed together. Judging by the way her breath hitches every time I push in deeper, I’d say I’m doing a good job. Quite frankly, I’m not completely aware of my own movements; my brain’s so overcome with pleasure. She grunts and moans and I grip her legs around my waist, picking up the pace.

This is heaven. It has to be.

She leans back, watching me pump inside her. “That’s … ahh …” April breathes. “Fuck, keep going …”

I nod, words lost in my throat, and start thrusting harder. Deeper. Sweat glistens on our skin, and a throaty noise escapes my mouth.

“Yeah, right there,” she says.

“Yeah?”

Her breathing gets choppy and I pick up the pace and start fucking her into the wall. April whimpers, clutching onto my bicep. “Oh, God, yes. You’re doing so good.”

Holy shit. It’s a miracle I don’t come right that instant.

Leaning forward, I run my tongue along her shoulder to her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat on her skin. She moves one of her hands down to cup the space between her legs. Her entire body is trembling, chest heaving, pussy throbbing around me. Her mouth tilts toward me, hips bucking and grinding, eyes fluttered shut. My mouth crashes into hers and the current of pleasure shoots into me hard.

“Fuck,” I groan, placing a kiss on her shoulder, driving myself deeper. I clutch the side of her neck. “Chere, I’m gonna come …”

She grips me with her legs harder, then pulls me back into a kiss. I push into her, and her body shudders against me. My eyes roll back into my skull. Fuck, this is … the warmth, her tightness. It’s too much. A few more thrusts and I feel her contract around me. I let go too, groaning her name, gripping her hips so tightly, I’m worried it’s gonna leave a mark. She hangs onto me as I fill her up.

After a minute of basking in the aftermath of orgasmic glow and catching our breath, her arms flop to her sides and I slide out of her. “That was …” My breathing is still heavy, my brain still unable to form words. “Fuck …”