#q16

“Work, damn it!”

 Nothing. The sting in your eyes only intensified.

 “Fucking work!”

 Your shout was loud, and it boomed off the walls for several seconds. When the echo faded, your tears streamed down your cheeks.

 “Fuck,” you whispered, now using both your hands to hold onto the dresser. You took several deep breaths trying to practice the meditating breaths you learned. Groaning, you quickly realized that this wasn’t going to work either.

 You walked out of the bedroom toward the bar area and filled a glass with the first bottle you took up. You didn’t care what it was, and you also didn’t care that it wasn’t exactly after five. It was drinking time somewhere—right? You knocked back the entire glass and hissed as the burn took over. Your belly filled with the fire you knew would come, and you welcomed it. You hoped it would dull everything else you were feeling.

 You were so bent out of shape that you couldn’t even place any of your other feelings except anger. Your anger overshadowed everything. At the thought of your anger, you had thoughts about everything you’d felt over the last thirty-two hours.

 “You’re all I want to see, Y/N,”

 His voice echoed around you. It sounded like he was actually in the room with you. Bracing your hands on the bar, you closed your eyes and got sucked back into last night.

 You could feel everything again like it was happening right now. It felt like his body was pressed against yours, like his hands were on your breasts, like his mouth was between your legs.

 “Fuck!”

 You poured another glass full and gulped it down, but even the burn down your throat was not enough to dull the lingering pleasure you still felt. He was in you.

 “You look so fucking gorgeous with my dick in your mouth, Y/N.”

 You groaned, and you could actually feel his dick in your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. No dick was this good, you thought. No dick could have you all fucked up like this.

 Biting your bottom lip, you sighed.

 “You’re perfect, so perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

 Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to blot out his voice.

 “I’ve imagined this moment for so long.”

 You wanted to find him and kick him in the balls. A few weeks ago, you couldn’t imagine the thought of anything like what had happened in the last few hours ever happening. Now you were standing here with a drink in your hand, his voice in your head, and your desire for him writhing in you like an overriding virus.

 “This dick ain’t nothing to laugh at.”

 You slid the glass away and took the bottle up and brought it to your head instead. After two gulps, you felt it beginning to fade, felt him beginning to fade—almost.

 “As you wish.”

 His voice echoed this time, and with each echo, it faded until it was quiet, at least for a moment.

 “I have you. I will always have you.”

 Pushing through, you did your best to pull yourself together. When you got back to the bedroom, you finished packing, not wanting to waste any more time. The alcohol worked to slow your actions, but you were determined to get the hell out of there. The knock at the door startled you. You stood there as if you expected them to be able to hear you moving inside. The knock came again, then a voice.

 “Y/N?”

 You sighed, hearing Scott’s voice. The relief that flooded you quickly dissipated when you thought about telling him you were leaving. What reason would you give him? He knocked a third time, and that was when you grabbed your robe and wrapped yourself in it as you walked to the door.

 “Y/N!”

 When you opened it, Scott had his arms held open. “What the hell? Are you okay? You didn’t come to dinner last night or breakfast this morning. You’ve been MIA.”

 “I know. I wasn’t feeling well. I just wanted to lay low in case it was ya’ know.”

 “COVID? How would you have gotten it? You’re being paranoid,” Scott filled in.

 “Yeah, you’re right. I just wasn’t feeling well.”

 “You need some food. Come on, mom just put dinner out. I was sent to get you.”

 “Uh, no. Scott I just--,” you began before he cut you off.

 “No. No more excuses. You gotta eat. Let’s go.” He was walking away before you even responded.

 “No, Scott--.”

 “Let’s go now, or I’ll tell mom you’re refusing her cooking because you think her food is disgusting.”

 Your jaw dropped.

 “Really?”

 “Really. You know I’ll do it.” With that, he was gone.

 You dropped your head back and groaned before going back inside to get dressed. You knew he would do some bullshit like that. The last thing in the world you wanted was to hurt Lisa. You spent the next ten minutes putting yourself together enough both on the outside and the inside that no one would suspect anything. It was harder than it should have been.

By the time you got to the house and walked into the dining room, you saw everyone sitting around the table. They all lit up when they saw you. The closer you got, you forced yourself to smile until you saw him. Chris was sitting at the table with his fingers steepled under his chin and elbows on the table. His eyes were glued to you. Quickly you looked away and shrugged him off.

 “Are you all right? Scott said you haven’t been feeling well,” Lisa mentioned as she approached you with arms open.

 “Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

 “Oh honey, of course, we worry,” Lisa said in her motherly voice as she pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. The action made you smile.

 “You’re not warm. Maybe my lasagna will fix you right up. come.” She led you to your seat beside Scott and three seats away from Chris.

 “You look exhausted,” Carly said.

 “Yeah—I haven’t been getting much sleep,” you began as you took up your fork. Hearing how it could have been interpreted, you quickly fixed it. “Work! I mean, it’s because of work.”

 They nodded but looked as if they didn’t need the extra explanation. Sighing, you began to eat your food in silence. They spoke around you, but you didn’t listen, you were lost in your own thoughts as you tried to formulate a plan on how to best leave without causing a ruckus. You couldn’t leave in the middle of the night because that would have been wrong, and you needed someone to drive you back to Boston. When you thought of that, you let out a huff.

 “Y/N,” Shanna began. You looked to her friendly inquisitive face. “You okay?”

 Pasting a smile on, you nodded. “I’m good. I’m sorry, just thinking of my to-do list. Since this pandemic work has really picked up, you’d think it would slow down but nope.”

 You were good at thinking on your feet. It was a quality you had to have to succeed in your career and your life. Shanna nodded and went back to eating, as did you. You could feel Chris’s eyes on you, tempting you to look at him. Using all your will, you refused and kept your eyes planted downward to your plate. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

 After an uncomfortable dinner, you sat through a few minutes of talk and calm all the while staying as far from Chris as possible. The funny thing to you was that with him staying away from you, no one was suspicious. He was carrying on as usual. Everyone else had remained the same. It was just you and him who had changed. You’d elevated, gone to a whole different plane of existence. That is what it felt like in that forest bubble--until it popped.

 You couldn’t get over what he’d said.

 “You’ve fucked a lot of guys!”

 Thinking about it again, you wanted to leap across the room and go wolverine on his ass. How dare he? When you looked over to him, you found his eyes planted right on you. They were beautiful, no doubt, but they were also the eyes of an asshole. You rolled yours, stood, and walked away toward the kitchen. Once inside, you walked around the island three times using the movement to get your rising anger under control.

 When the door opened, you turned to see Scott.

 “You’ve been weird all night. Talk to me.”

 You studied him trying to decide if you could tell him you’d had sex with his brother. You remembered what Chris had said that he’d made a promise to him. If you revealed it now you would start problems, problems you didn’t want to start.

 “I’m fine, Scott, tired but fine.”

 He studied you for a full minute before he nodded.

 “Okay. Go get some sleep; I’ll make an excuse for you.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. Go through the front.”

 You walked to him, gave him a quick hug, and did as he said. Before you walked out the door, you grabbed Scott’s car keys from the key hook on the wall that housed everyone’s keys. You’d convinced yourself he wouldn’t mind, and he’d understand. Once you were outside, you took a few deep breaths and moaned from the scent of the salty air. You were tempted to go for one last walk on the beach, but you had a feeling if you did that, you wouldn’t leave. Walking around the house the long way, you looked over the bank to the tall grass and beach down below. There was nothing quite like the beach at night. You stopped at the fork in your path. One way led to the beach and another night here with all that had happened, and the other led to the guesthouse where your bags were waiting. You must have stood there for ten minutes before you walked back to the guesthouse.

 Once inside, you gathered the rest of your things and waited until you knew everyone would be asleep. An hour passed with you sitting in the living room with your feet on the wooden coffee table, just staring at a lit candle. As the flame danced, your thoughts flitted from topic to topic. You began with going over every detail of the date, every word spoken, facial expression, body gesture, none of it escaped your focus now. Moving on, you went to every sensation, from scent, taste, and sound when both of you decided that you were going to cross that line. It wasn’t an unconscious choice. It was one both of you willingly made. Those thoughts brought you to everything leading up to you feeling him move inside of you. Again, not one detail missed you.

 You’d learned long ago that though something was unpleasant to think about, you had to acknowledge it in order to move on. You’d acknowledged everything that had made you the way you were and dealt with it. You’d found a way to use it as fuel, that was until last night. Something shifted; something changed your outlook; something made you feel.

 “It was him, you idiot!”

 You quickly sat up and groaned out, digging your hands in your hair. It was full-on puff now, long gone were your tame curls and coils. Thanks to your willingness to be carefree and adventurous, your hair was paying the price. You vowed to yourself that once you got back to your apartment, you’d treat yourself to a whole wash day routine. With that thought, you remembered his words.

 “I’m willing to learn.”

 You kissed your teeth and stood. You were tired of waiting. Taking up your bags and balancing them as well as you could, you opened the door and stopped in your tracks. There was Chris with his hand raised, ready to knock.

 “Son of a bitch!”

His eyes dropped to the bags in your hands, and he took a step to you. Quickly, you backed away, dropping a bag in the process. Chris took a step to you, and you took another back.

 “Y/N,” he began.

 “Shut the fuck up and get out. Go away.”

 He didn’t listen. He took another step inside the guesthouse. Even when you made every attempt to get away from him, he didn’t get the hint. Finally, you dropped your bags and walked as far from him as possible.

 “Y/N, let me explain, please.”

 “Explain? Fuck you!”

 Your shout was louder than it should have been. Realizing it, you clenched your jaws, trying to keep the rage from pouring over.

 “Y/N, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It slipped out,” Chris frantically said as he closed the space between you.

 Thanks to the wall behind you, you had nowhere to go. Pushing him back only sent him a few inches from you. It was enough of a distance for you to move out of the confined space you were in, but you weren’t quick enough that Chris wasn’t able to wrap his hand around your wrist to pull you back to him.

 “I’m sorry.”

 You did it before you thought it. Swinging your hand out, it connected with his cheek in a loud slap. He looked shocked, but he didn’t look angry. You wanted to make him angry so that he could feel some of yours. You slapped him again and again. On the fourth swing , Chris caught your wrist. The clench in his jaw was tight.

 “I deserve that,” he grumbled.

 “Why do you deserve it? Because you called me a fucking whore!?”

 “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I promise, Y/N.”

 You pulled away from him, roughly nearly losing your balance in the process. “Fuck you and your promises Chris! They mean shit—you mean shit.”

 “You don’t mean that. Come on. What more can I say to prove to you that I didn’t mean it?”

 “Nothing. I’m done. I’m leaving.”

 You hurried to your bags and began gathering them. Before you got half of them, Chris was on you, forcing you to drop them yet again.

 “Y/N, come on. You can’t leave. It’s not safe for you out there.”

 “I’d rather take my chances out there than in here with a man like you!”

 He looked hurt by that one, and you were glad for it. “Y/N, come on--,” he began.

 “Come on? Chris, there is nothing you could say to me.”

 You grabbed your bags again and threw open the door.

 “I can’t let you leave, Y/N. I can’t just let you walk out of here.”

 “Why?!”

 “Because of how I feel about you!”

 That had you freezing in your tracks. As the words sank in for you, you turned to him.

 “Jesus Christ, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I said. It was a stupid thing to say, one I didn’t even think about. I was angry, and I just said it. I didn’t mean it,” Chris blurted out, trying to keep his voice low.

 “Some part of you must mean it, some part of you must have felt this way. You must think I’m some whore who fucks every dick she comes across. That must be it right, Chris! I fuck everyone right, Andre, Marcus, Wayne, Charles, hell even you. Congratulations!”

 You made it past him and out to the pool, but he still didn’t give up. Chris got in front of you, but you didn’t stop.

 “Move!”

 “No. Come on, Y/N. You know you felt it last night. You know you felt it this morning and this afternoon. You felt it.”

 “I felt nothing!”

 “Bullshit! I was there. I was right there with you. I was on top of you staring in your eyes, and I saw it. I felt it when I was inside of you. You’re lying, and we both know it.”

 Ignoring the words coming from his mouth, you pushed past him and made your way around the house.

 “You’ve been inside of a lot of women. You probably don’t know what you feel anymore.”

 “Jeez, come on. Yes, I’ve slept with a lot of women, and I should never have even thought to say those words to you. That’s it though, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, really, I am.”

 “You’re sorry. How many women have you said those words to? Two, ten, fifteen?”

 “None of them are important to me. You do, Y/N. You do.”

 “Bullshit! I’ve never mattered to you.”

 That was when he pulled you back to him. As you collided with his body, your bags fell to the floor again.

 “You’re the only person who has mattered to me in the last three years. You are the only woman that I care about that is not in my family! You, Y/N! I don’t understand how you can’t see it. How is it still this hard for you to get it? You matter to me, you always have mattered. I think about you all the time. I worry about you more than I worry about anyone else. I dream about you, and in my dream, it’s always you and me. I respect you so much, it’s incredible to think we’ve barely spoken in these years, but I know so much about you. I respect you so much, even though you’ve hated me all these years. Y/N, I value you. I’m sorry for how I behaved. I’m sorry that I said those words.” The emotion in his voice was clear to hear.

 You stood there, frozen. The look in his eyes said he meant them. His eyes said he felt them and was pleading with you to feel them too—hear them too. There was a war inside of you that was waging so fierce that you couldn’t think straight. Part of you wanted to still leave while the other part—a part that was growing in size wanted to stay with him.

 “Please stay, Y/N. Please. Let me make this right. Let me fix this. Let me prove to you that you matter to me, let me show you that this means everything to me.”

 Chris cupped your skull and pressed his forehead to yours. His skin was hot; you were sure it was always this hot.

 “Please—I don’t want to let you go—not again.”

 “Fuck,” you whispered.

 “Please.”

 You had no voice to respond; all you could do was nod. Chris released a loud sigh that told you he’d been drinking. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then pulled back. You watched him pick up your bags then look back to you. He was asking a question. Can I? Chris reached his hand to touch your cheek and slid his thumb across it. When he brought his hand away, you saw it was wet. You were crying.

 Chris took your hand and led you back along the path you’d just walked, back to the guesthouse you were so ready to leave. As Chris led you back around the pool, you stared at his hand entwined with yours and sighed. It felt right. You just hoped that by giving in to this “right” wouldn’t turn everything wrong.

 Once you reached the guesthouse, Chris placed your bags in the living room, turned to you, and cupped your cheeks. “Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll come right back for you. can you do that?”

 You studied his eyes, peering deeply into them, trying to read him thoroughly. You bit your bottom lip when you saw that you wouldn’t see anything different than what he wanted you to see. You knew he had secrets. You nodded, giving him his answer. Chris then kissed your forehead again and walked out of the guestroom, leaving you alone once again.

You don’t know how long you stood in the doorway, but you stood there all the same, just staring out into the darkness. When one of your legs fell asleep, you closed the door and walked to the couch. Once before the candle, you’d just blown out you lit it again, sat, and watched it. As you stared in the flame, you tried to stave off the feeling that you were being weak and ignore the thoughts that still told you to leave that you’d be better off.

 Everything from his past indicated that he would end up hurting you. He’d been one way with every woman in his life before. What was so different about you? Why would he be any different with you? Hell, he probably had the power to absolutely wreck you. Your mental freak out quickly took over making you jump to your feet.  After pacing the living room for what felt like seconds, you heard the knock at your door. You didn’t open it right away. You just stared at the door. He probably could have opened it himself, but he didn’t.

 Walking toward it, you stopped with your hand on the knob and took a few breaths. When you opened it, Chris was standing there patiently with one hand behind his back. The two of you stared at each other for several moments before he revealed his hand, showing you a bouquet of picked flowers. You scoffed and shook your head. His mother was going to kill him. You took the flowers that were completely different than the ones he’d given you the other night. While those were bright thanks to the yellow sunflowers, these were also bright but in a different way. The mix of red and white tulips complimented each other but also looked as if they didn’t belong together. Regardless, they were beautiful.

 Chris held his hand out to you and waited for you to decide to take it. When almost fifteen seconds passed before you took it, he didn’t sigh or huff and puff, he remained calm and accommodating. When you put your hand in his, you watched his fingers wrap around your hand. He then raised it to his lips and kissed it once then twice. Once his lips touched your hand, your skin tingled, and from there, it never stopped.

 Chris slowly led you out of the guesthouse and allowed you to close the door behind you before he continued to lead the way to wherever he was taking you. When he cut away from the house to the steps that led to the beach, you guessed what he had planned. He took his time leading you down the steps carefully to ensure your safety was paramount. When you stepped onto the sand, Chris looked back to you as if asking if he could or should keep going. When you didn’t object, he continued to walk you down the beach toward the shore.

Once there, you saw a fire lit path along the beach leading to the warm glow of a fire in the distance. It stopped you in your tracks.

 “You okay?”

 Were you okay? You knew if you went over there and saw what he’d done, you’d probably forgive the bullshit he said earlier. You didn’t know if you wanted to forgive him. You wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible. You were also curious about just how he thought he could make things right. Releasing a huff of breath, you nodded. Chris continued the walk down the shore toward his destination. When you reached the lit path, you just stared at the small flames that looked to be medium-sized tealight candles. It was beautiful.

 The closer you got, the more you could see, and the more you saw, the more the butterflies in your belly fluttered. When you’d stopped walking, you were standing in front of a large blanket with two cushioned pillows placed on them along with a large wooden butcher block trey. On the block was a decanter of amber looking liquid, a few containers that were covered, glasses, and a gift box. Across the blanket were scattered rose petals, and before the blanket was a hot roaring fire.

 “Sit down,” Chris advised. You kicked off your slippers and walked across the blanket to find a good spot.

 As you sat on the cushion, you looked up at Chris and watched him as he took his seat across from you. His shirt showed his St. Christopher medal between both his tattoos on his chest. The sight of those tattoos made you bite your bottom lip. You remembered touching that chest, feeling his skin, and the muscles as it danced underneath your hand. You remembered just what it felt like—what he looked like above you with that medal hanging down dangling in front of you.

 “You haven’t said a word since we were outside the house. What’re you thinking?”

 You took a deep breath as you toyed with the petals of the flowers you still held. “Your mother is going to kill you when she realizes these are gone, and you are the culprit.”

 Chris snorted and shrugged. “I’ll laugh in the face of danger.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh. He was an idiot. His mother would beat his ass red.

 “You’re such a liar, you know she’ll beat you down.”

 Chris nodded. “Yeah, maybe, but it would have been worth it.”

 Your eyes met and remained on each other. In the firelight, they looked darker but sexy nonetheless. The man didn’t even have to work for pussy, he probably just said shit like that. Scoffing, you put the flowers to the side.

 “They’re beautiful. I love them.”

 “I’m glad. Do you know the meaning of tulips?”

 “Do you?”

 “My mom made sure I knew. Sometimes I’d sit with her and plant in the garden when I was a kid. She’d tell me about every flower she planted. She’d tell me what they meant, how to care for them. It was a whole process,” Chris explained.

 “Oh yeah? What’d you learn?”

 Chris reached for the decanter, opened it, and poured the brown-tinted liquid into both glasses. Once they were half-filled, he held one out to you. Your fingers grazed as you took the glass from him, and they lingered together.

 “She told me that tulips were special. They were originally cultivated in the Ottoman Empire, which is now Turkey and brought to Holland. Even though everyone thinks that is where they are initially from. There once was a time when they were one of the most coveted flowers. It’s not hard to see. Mom told me that tulips usually symbolized the beginning of spring. They usually spout then and stay throughout and sometimes through summer.” 

Chris paused for a moment as if he were gathering his thoughts, then continued.

“Her words, It’s like a reminder of what spring symbolizes renewal, rebirth, peace, joy, and happiness. White tulips say I’m sorry. They are a symbol used to beg for forgiveness, a way to say I was a stupid asshole, and I deserve every minute of agony you want to make me feel, I was a jackass who made a huge mistake, a jackass who just showed you how much I don’t deserve a woman like you. They mean I respect you more than I’ve ever respected any woman I’ve been with it’s fucked up but true. The cream-colored one in there means something much more.”

 You gulped the liquid and hissed at the burn. He was saying all the right things.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 Staring in his eyes, you almost felt as if you were being hypnotized, or put under a spell. You knew he meant the words. Looking down at the glass, you cleared your throat.

 “What do the red ones mean?”

 You watched him as you took another gulp of the Whiskey. You liked the brown sugar undertones and the slightly smoky flavor that filled your mouth.

 “The red ones--,” Chris began before he emptied his glass and stared into the open fire.

 Instead of speaking, he reached for two thin long wooden skewers and handed you one. After you took it, he opened the containers on the wooden trey revealing jumbo marshmallows, graham crackers, Hershey's milk chocolate squares, cookies n’ mint chocolate, and recces peanut butter cups. Just like that, you knew where this was going.

 “S’mores still your favorite thing in the world?”

 You couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face. Not many people knew it, but they were. You looked at him and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth.

 “Of course they are,” Chris filled in as he brought the bowl with the marshmallows to you for you to pick one. You did and plopped it onto the end of your skewer. You were excited. You hadn’t made s’mores in forever, which meant you hadn’t had one in just as long.

 You shimmied closer to the fire and stuck your skewer into the flames and watched as the outside of the marshmallow began to change.

 “How do you know so much about me?”

 “I pay attention.”

 You watched his hand holding the skewer and followed the trail along his exposed skin to his bicep. That was where your eyes and train of thought stopped.

 “Why did you pay attention to me?”

 “How could I not? You’re eye-catching—impossible to miss. I paid attention because you mattered to me. You still do.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and suddenly, the respectable space between you felt like too much.

 “I didn’t mean to piss you off,” Chris finished.

 You looked into the fire and sighed. “You hurt me,” you whispered. You didn’t think it was audible, but when you saw him place his skewer down on the wooden table and move next to you sitting with his legs open, so you and the cushion you sat on were between them you knew he’d heard you loud and clear.

 “Y/N,” Chris began in such a soft voice you had no other choice but to look at him. When you did, he took your skewer and put it beside his. Then he led you down to the blanket to replicate the way he sat before you.

 “I never meant to hurt you. I never want to hurt you—not you.”

 “You did.”

 “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I didn’t want to hurt you, and it tears me up that I did. I won’t do it again. I swear—I promise.”

 You looked down. You hated promises. People who made them always broke them. Chris brought your face back to his.

 “I mean it, Y/N. I've never been big on promises, hell I’ve never made a promise for the simple fact that I knew I’d break it and I never care enough to make an effort to keep them. I promise you right here, right now. I will never hurt you again.”

 Staring into his eyes, you looked for any hint of a lie, any hint of the bullshit he might have been spewing. After nearly a minute, you saw none. Was he telling the truth, you wondered. To lighten the mood, you changed the subject.

 “No matter how much you think you know about me, you don’t know this. I’ve only slept with six guys, not including you. six that’s it.”

 Chris nodded. “I don’t care; really, I don’t.”

 “Yes, you do. I don’t know why you do, but you do.”

 “I may have been living my life doing whatever I wanted while you were doing the same, but I wanted you the whole time. If it makes sense, I never allowed any of them to get to this level,” Chris confessed.

 “What level?”

 “The level where a connection could be felt. I’ve felt this connection since the day we met, and today it’s stronger than it has ever been. I’ve never wanted them the way I want you.”

 “My body,” you began.

 “—I don’t give a shit about your body. This has never been about me getting in your panties.”

 “Then what is it about Chris?

 “What is it about for you?”

 You hadn’t expected him to throw this back to you. Your shock was evident. You didn’t want to confess a damn thing to him.

 “You have to trust me, Y/N.”

 “I don’t have to trust you. I don’t have to do anything,” you blurted out. Chris nodded and looked down at the blanket.

 “You want to. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it when I touch you. I can see it every time we’re close like this. Y/N, you want to trust me. You can.”

 You searched his eyes. He was right. For some reason, you wanted to trust him. For some reason, a very, very small voice inside of you said you should.

 “I trust you, Y/N,” Chris said on a whisper as he brought his face closer to yours. He didn’t kiss you, just hovered his face close to yours.

 “That night, the next morning, this—none of this has ever been about sex for me. I could never do that to you. You deserve so much more than that.”

 Long moments passed, and the silence stretched. All the two of you did was gaze into each other’s eyes. Each of you searching for something in the other, each of you trying to find the courage to take the necessary step. Each of you trying to think of the right thing to say or do. Neither of you finding anything you were searching for. Neither of you being able to be the first to leap. You lowered your head and tried to slow your racing heart.

 “I forgive you.”

 “You do? Why?”

 You snorted and looked back up at him. “So, I shouldn’t?”

 “No, it’s just I know you, and nothing is easy with you.”

 Your smile spread across your face. “So this was easy? An hour ago, I was ready to drive off and leave your pale ass in the darkness like a nightlight,” you reminded. Chris smiled and shook his head.

 “Wow, you went there.”

 “I did. I said what I meant, and I meant what I said,” you teased. The smile on his face was an affectionate one. The warmness you felt was not because of the roaring fire before you. It was from something else, and he was the root of it.

 “I forgive you because I’ve known you for three years, and I know you can be a dick and say some asshole things. You’ve apologized and did all this—I believe you’re sorry.”

 “I am, really really sorry,” Chris added as he lifted your chin, so you were looking in his eyes again. “I mean it.”

 You searched his eyes again and tried to listen to the side of you that was the minority telling you to believe him and trust him. You nodded. The moment stretched with the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes as the fire danced. You did not miss the intimacy of the moment. When Chris slowly moved into you, you allowed him to press his lips to yours. He didn’t move to deepen it, though; he just kept your lips together. The proximity of his body, coupled with the intimacy and the atmosphere, had your heart racing.

 You opened your eyes and watched him. After a few seconds, Chris opened his eyes and stared into yours, and that only intensified the connection you felt between you. Chris deepened the kiss, and you quickly got lost in it before you pulled away.

 “Just so we’re clear, I’ve only slept with--,” you began before Chris put his finger over your lips, stopping your words.

 “I don’t need to know. it’s not important.”

 “Yes, you do, and it is. I’ve only slept with seven guys, including you. I’ve dated, yes, but most of them have never gotten that deep.”

 “I really wasn’t trying to insinuate that you slept around, Y/N. I know you like to party and have a good time and enjoy having men make asses out of themselves for your entertainment, but I never once thought you were sleeping around.”

 You didn’t know if you believe him, but you nodded.

 “I’m not a big of a man whore as you guys like to think,” Chris began. You gave him a “boy don’t even start” look to which he snorted.

 “I’m being serious. Yes, there have been a few, but I’m not in three digits.”

 You reared back, giving him a disgusted look.

 “Three digits Chris!” He laughed, slapping his hand across his chest. You were not in the mood.

 “Don’t play with me, Chris!”

 “Not three digits, I promise. Seventeen.”

 It was a higher number than yours, but it wasn’t as high as you’d expected. You thought he had no self-control, and everything with legs and brunette hair had gotten it.

 “Lower than you thought, huh.” You snorted and shook your head.

 “See, I’m not as bad as you, Scott, and the other like to make me out to be.”

 “Fine, Chris, you’re not a big of a man-whore as I thought. Happy?”

 He smiled and shrugged. “I’m appeased—minimally.”

 You laughed again, throwing your head back. When you brought it back, he was watching you.

 “I’d ask for a do-over if I had known this was possible.”

 He said it so low you almost missed it.

 “You mean that much to me, Y/N.”

 You pulled his head to yours and softly kissed him, focusing on everything the kiss made you feel—tenderness, warmth, fireworks. The man could kiss. Chris pulled away from you before it got out of hand.

 “Behave, I brought you here for this, not my body,” he teased before he took up the sticks.

 You sat there, holding your marshmallow into the fire in comfortable silence. Every now and then, Chris would nudge your shoulder with his only to have you nudge him right back, which had the two of you looking at each other to kiss some more before going back to your marshmallows.

After a few minutes, you’d burned ten marshmallows from neither of you being able to focus on the task at hand. When you both finally had one marshmallow roasted to perfection, you each made your s’more. Chris used the cookies n’ mint squares while you used the peanut butter and milk chocolate ones. When you bit into your s’more, you moaned when you found caramel in the mix too. For the next fifteen minutes or so, the two of you roasted marshmallows and made smores to your heart’s content. It was perfect.

 When the graham crackers were gone, things got messy with you roasting marshmallows to put chocolate chunks on top of the marshmallow to eat. It didn’t take long for Chris to smear marshmallow on your exposed shoulder, and it took him even less time to lick it off. That began the cycle of him putting melted marshmallow on your skin to lick and suck off while you dripped melting chocolate on him to return the favor.

 When the sweets and wine were finished, you laid cuddled on the blanket, watching the stars listening to the crack of the fire and the crash of the waves.

 “I want to stay here forever,” Chris whispered.

 “Forever?”

 He looked down at you as you met his eyes. You didn’t recognize the look on his face.

 “Forever,” he repeated.

 “Forever is a long time.”

 He didn’t look phased, or even like he would change his mind.

 “You promise?”

 It took some time, but you nodded your response. Chris rolled onto you and kissed you in the way that made you forget everything. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and raised it until you’d pulled it off of him. Your fingers danced across the muscles in his back until they’d reached his pants. Chris continued to kiss you as if he had a point to make, a point that you needed to understand. The urgency in his kiss increased, and that urgency sparked your own hidden one. Your desire unfurled in your belly and raced through you.

 Bringing your hands around to the buckle of his pants, you quickly undid them and pulled them lower on his hips. Chris didn’t seem as if he were in any hurry, though, so he remained hovered over you while kissing you dumb. Your eyes met, and every wall you’d built suddenly collapsed from just the look in his eyes.

 “I’m scared of you,” Chris whispered.

 He had to be kidding, you thought. He was scared of you? You had no idea what to say to that. Thankfully he didn’t seem as if he wanted you to respond.

 “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Chris pressed his forehead to yours and further nudged the war within you.

 You could feel his need pressing onto your core, and that was igniting a need within you that you weren’t sure you could contain. The slight shake you felt from his body screamed of how vulnerable he was at this moment. Your body wanted him, and for the first time, you faced the fact that your heart wanted the same thing.

 “Then don’t.”

 He kissed you once, twice, and third before backed away from you sitting on his haunches. You sat up and kissed him.

 “I always fuck up. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

You touched his cheek and caressed it.

 “I don’t want to lose—this,” Chris finished.

 You kissed him again only this time you let your feelings shine through. You allowed your fear, your desire, your attraction, your intrigue and something you worried was a lot more than affection. Chris moaned and held you closer to his body and kissed you back with just as much hunger and need as you kissed him. You lifted your shirt off and met his eyes again. Chris pulled his pants down, then stood to take them off. The reprieve gave you time to undo your shorts. Chris met you halfway and finished the rest. As he pulled them off of your legs, he kissed your shin before he pressed his body back to yours to claim your lips once more.

 Rolling on top of him, you straddled his body. Kissing him was easy, thanks to his sitting position. His hands spread across your back, making you feel small and delicate. When his lips dipped to your neck to nip and suck the skin there, you threw your head back. The action gave him new freedom to clap his lips around your nipple. As you hugged his head to your chest, you rocked against him, which sent Chris’s hands down to cup your thonged ass.

 After licking and teasing one nipple, he moved to the next to nibble and bite, giving you the best of both worlds—his tenderness and his aggressiveness. You dug your hands into his hair and pulled it, bringing his eyes to yours. He looked open and completely transparent.

 “Do you want me, Chris?”

 “All I want is you, Y/N.” He crashed his lips to yours and flipped you onto your back while he spread your arms out on the blanket while entwining his fingers with yours. You believed him, and you tried not to be scared of it.

 Chris moved his lips across your skin and down your body until he’d pulled off your underwear and buried his face between your legs with them draped over his shoulders. You loudly gasped out, angling your head back to gaze at the star-filled sky. The way he rolled his tongue and sucked your skin had you barreling toward your release. With the sound of the waves crashing with the warmth of the fire and the beauty of the stars over you, it was easy to press this to memory.

 In a matter of a few short minutes, you’d trapped Chris's head between your thighs as you came with him, not letting up, not even a little. You didn’t even realize it, but you’d screamed out before you could stop yourself.

 “Fuuuuck, Chris!”

 As if that was what he wanted to hear, he came up to you. When you attempted to kiss him, he jerked back, smirking. Every attempt you made, he slipped away with a smile that spoke of playfulness. On the fifth attempt, you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him there so your lips could claim his. Both of you moaned and battled for control. Yours was a fake battle. You didn't mind not being in control right now.

 You rolled onto him and sat on his throbbing hardness as he groaned from the contact. His lips were glued to you once again as if he needed them for survival. Neither of you seemed in a hurry to move forward, you both just kissed and teased each other with licks, nibbles, caresses, and cuddles until you both nearly lost your minds. When the rocking of your hips became too much, Chris held your hips steadying you.

 “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered.

 Usually, those words would have been like a douse of ice-cold water and an automatic repellant. In this situation with him tonight, somehow, they weren’t.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it putting one in my pocket. Tonight wasn’t supposed to get here. I’m--,” Chris rambled before you kissed him again.

 He did all of this on the beach and hadn’t expected sex. He did this from his heart for you. It was a sweet admission. Pressing your forehead to his, you tried to catch your breath. “It’s—okay.”

 Chris reared back to look into your eyes. He didn’t look confused; he looked cautious. “It’s okay?”

 That was when your nerves picked up. Was it?

 “Is it?”

 Chris opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You began to worry that you’d said the wrong thing, and now he was freaked out. Why weren’t you freaked out? You literally just gave him permission to go raw. Did you? You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth when you’d been religious every single time.

 “It’s—okay with me,” Chris slowly said. He sounded shocked at the words he said.

 “Is it? Are you sure?”

 He pulled you closer as if you’d somehow drifted too far from him. “Me? Are you sure?”

 Staring into his ocean-like eyes, you nodded. You were sure.

 The two of you remained still for a few moments as if allowing the intent to marinate.

 “I’ve never--,” Chris began.

 “Me neither,” you quickly followed.

 His smile was so sweet you couldn’t help but smile with him.

 “I trust you,” Chris finished.

 You felt as if you should have said the words back, but still, something held you back from actually voicing what your head was clearly telling you that you felt. Instead of speaking, you nodded. He kissed you again and softly caressed your back. Everywhere he touched felt as if he left a trail of fire in his wake. The man was as intoxicating as the flames behind you. Getting lost in his kisses once again, you began rocking against him but only managed a few rolls before your arousal peaked.

 Raising onto your knees, you angled yourself over his need. His eyes bored into you, and it looked as if he were holding his breath. Slowly you slid down his length. Every inch had you shaking as he sank his fingertips into your skin.

 “Shit,” You whispered just before he filled you completely.

 For a few seconds, neither of you moved, you just allowed the sensations to wash over you and cement what you both just did. Chris peppered kisses across your collar as he held you close to him. It was Chris who moved your body against him, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Both of you groaned loudly, and you were the one to move next. Slowly you rocked against him, gradually picking up your speed. Chris rolled his head back as he leaned to watch you move. He felt good, too good.

 You raised onto your knees and began bouncing on him.

 “Jesus Chris!” He held your hips and took over, slamming you down onto his cock.

 With every connection, you gasped louder and louder. Soon it was Chris controlling your movements, using your body to bring you both to completion. You knew you weren’t going to last long. When you gripped his shoulders, you stood on your tiptoes and took control back. That was when Chris’s moans became louder, and the intensity in his eyes picked up.

 “Yes, yes, yes! Oh god baby, I’m gonna come,” Chris warned.

 “Me too,” you whined. Chris planted his hands on the blanket and rose his hips up to meet you as you came down.

 “Oh, fuck!”

 You both only lasted four more strokes before you were coming together. Chris pulled you down with him back to the blanket to wrap you in his massive arms. Both of you rode the wave of your shared release, not caring if anyone walked onto the beach to catch you. The moment was too perfect to think about reality.

 After a full ten minutes, Chris was the one to roll onto you to smile down at you.

 “Are you okay?”

 You nodded before he kissed you. “Are you?”

 Chris shook his head. “I want you.”

 You snorted and shook your head. “Who knew you were so insatiable, Evans.”

 You could feel him hardening again inside you.

 “When it comes to you—damn right, I am.”

 Chris rocked into you, reawakening your desire for him. The man was going to be the death of you. Death by dick, it was a thing, it had to be.

 For the next few hours, the two of you did what two naked bodies did best. Position after position, the man kept going and going and going. You weren’t complaining; you were surprised. He was pushing forty and was able to serve up quality dick back to back to back. In your coital insanity bubble, the two of you thought it was a good idea to dip into the ocean, and that turned into ocean sex. You were checking off so many firsts with him in one night you didn’t know if there would be much else to do for the rest of this quarantine.

 The only reason you stopped when you saw the first hints of navy and grey in the sky was because the fire had died, and the air was nippy. You watched Chris gather the items in his full naked glory. The darkness still hid him from you for the most part, but the view was still the best view. You were delirious, so delirious that after he hid everything in the tall grasses to come back for later, he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to the guest house with the darkness as your cover.

 Once inside, the two of you took a shower together that was filled with lavender-scented bubbles, giggles, kisses, and cuddles. That was when Chris co-washed your hair for you taking his time to do it properly. By the time the two of you climbed into the bed, the sky was turning a beautiful shade of pink. 

You’d think it was sleep both of you did, but sleep was the farthest thing from either of your minds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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