by Louise Bay
I lay back on the blanket and pulled her into my arms so we faced each other on our sides. Her legs slipped between mine as I pressed my lips against hers. I could kiss her for days.
But we didn’t have days. We only had tonight.
And I’d miss her. Every part of her.
I pushed my tongue against hers and skimmed my fingers up her back. She shivered, but I knew she wasn’t cold.
“No man has ever made me feel like you do,” she whispered as she pressed kisses down my chest. Her words had my blood rushing to my dick, but I was also filled with sadness that she’d not had what she deserved.
But now she knew how to be happy, because of me. And now, because of me, she’d find someone back in Boston in a heartbeat. It was so unfair. I pushed her back and pulled out a condom from where I’d stashed it under the blanket. I ripped it open—I needed to show her, make her see that I was the only one that could make her feel this good. I couldn’t think of her with another man. Of her asking them for things when I knew I could give her whatever she needed. I was the only one who should know her like this. The only one who could make her happy.
I had to leave my mark.
She cried out as I pushed in.
“Was I too quick?” I asked, snapping my head up to look at her.
“No, it’s so good.” She gripped her bottom lip with her teeth and blinked slowly.
Hers were cries of pleasure. Cries I’d not heard properly until tonight. I needed to hear them. To know I’d reminded her of how good this was. I wanted it scorched across her memory forever so that whenever another man touched her, she remembered only me.
Gripping her hips, I sat back on my heels, so her ass was on my lap. I wanted to see everything as I fucked her—watch her mouth widen with each thrust, her eyes shut lazily as I withdrew.
I stroked her stomach, my thumb flicking her clit. Her eyes opened wide as she arched, pushing her breasts into the air. My pulse quickened and I increased the pace. I loved how each movement I made rippled into pleasure across her body.
“I’m so close, Blake. You’re so good.”
I growled and circled my hips. As her moans grew louder, she pulsed around me. I wouldn’t bet against everyone being able to hear us back at the ranch. I grinned at the thought and pressed harder and faster with my thumb.
Her body stiffened and I had to hold her steady as she twisted.
She was lovely, perfect, mine. For tonight.
And then she was leaving.
I couldn’t think about that now. I continued to push into her as she came back down to earth smiling and stroking my jaw, looking at me as if I’d just given her the moon decorated in diamonds.
She lifted her knees, shifting so I slid deeper then moaned at the change in angle. The fire roared in my ears and seemed to grow hotter and nearer until my orgasm rumbled at the base of my spine. I wanted it to consume me, but I didn’t want this to be over. Not yet. I wasn’t ready for the beginning of the end.
Mackenzie’s muscles contracted around me. Was she close again? She smoothed her hand over my forehead. It was such a sweet, caring gesture in the middle of the cloud of lust between us. We locked eyes and my heart exploded—there was no holding back. I was greedy for the feeling that only being in her created. My orgasm broke free, raced up my spine and caught up with my heart.
“Mackenzie, Mackenzie, Mackenzie,” I cried.
Her fingernails dug into my ass as she stiffened and silently spiraled into another climax.
I wanted to stay like this, here, with her, forever.
I slumped, then rolled to my side, bringing her with me. I wanted to melt into her until we were one and she could never leave.
The sex had always been good between us, but since our first night together it had become more.
More than good.
More than sex.
I’d never felt the intensity, the connection, the joining of heart and body. I thought about her all the time when I wasn’t with her. Every now and then I saw snapshots of a future, of a family. I’d never had that before, not with Stacey, or with any of my other exes. I was always happy to be in the moment. My future was always about my career, about how I was going to make a difference.
I’d never subscribed to the theory that sex with someone you loved was somehow better. Great sex was about being able to communicate with women. Knowing what they enjoyed. Showing them what worked. But with Mackenzie, it seemed to be more than just good communication … With her, everything was fundamentally different than anything I’d experienced before. Physically it was as if God had reached down and given me three more senses to add to the overloaded ones I already had. It ratcheted things up onto another level, led me toward possibilities I’d never seen before. It was as if the tectonic plates of who I was shifted and required that I change, that I look at the world differently when I was with her.
Mackenzie’s breath against my skin slowed as the booming in my ears dulled to a throb. Only the fear of losing her gave me the strength to hold her against me.
We lay there in silence for what seemed like hours.
Eventually she placed a kiss on my chest and I pressed my lips to her forehead.
“I won’t ever be the same after this,” she said in a small voice.
I was pleased Brianna’s trip had worked out for her. I wanted her to be happy. Celibate, but happy.
“I came to find a happy future. The shaman, the stones, the fresh air, the zip line and the fire—they aren’t what changed me.” She sighed. “You did.”
I pulled her closer. I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew exactly what she meant.
She’d showed me how it could be different. How much a woman could mean to me.
It scared the living shit out of me.
I wanted to step into the conversation about possibilities. Address the idea of us as a couple in Boston. But that wasn’t why she’d come to Christie. She wanted a fresh start.
So I stayed quiet and let the buzz of crickets fill the silence between us.
Eventually she shifted and interlinked our legs as she rolled toward me. “Talk to me about biochemistry.” She propped herself up on her elbow and rested her head in her hand.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
“Whatever you want to tell me. What does this company in Boston want to work with you on?”
I stroked my index finger down her nose. “An artificial sweetener that doesn’t stimulate insulin production and has very few side effects. It would be much healthier than the shit that’s out there at the moment.”
“Wow, that’s really important stuff. Do you wear a lab coat and goggles and do things with test tubes? Like science things?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.
I grinned. Not because she was wrong, but because despite the teasing I could tell she really wanted to know and that felt good.
“Well, kinda. There’s as many computers as petri dishes, but yeah we do lots of lab work.”
“And you’re really good at this stuff?”
“I love doing it. And the more I do it, the better I get.”
She smiled. “Isn’t that always the way? If you aren’t passionate about what you do, your life becomes a chore.”
I had little idea of what she did day to day, just that she used to be a teacher and now did something now for the state. We’d never really talked about it. Was that because she was so used to making the guy the center of everything? Or because we’d spent the last few days living exclusively in the moment?
“What’s your passion?” I asked. “Why aren’t you still teaching?”
She sighed and rolled to her back. “Education is still my passion, but I quickly realized a class of twenty-five kids was never going to be enough. So, I create curriculums for the Department of Education, hoping it will have more of an impact on a greater number of students.” She smoothed her palm up my arm, trying to distract me. But I wasn’t going to let her get away with that.
“But
that’s not your passion?” I leaned up on my elbow so I didn’t miss a moment of her. The candles, the Christmas lights, even the lake—it was all wasted on us. We couldn’t focus our attention on anything but each other.
“Not exactly. I’m working on another project in my spare time—one I couldn’t have done without my day job.” She traced small patterns on my chest with her index finger as she talked.
“What is it?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” She glanced up at me, her eyebrows pulled together.
Why wouldn’t I want to know everything about her? “Of course.”
“I read a book, Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. Do you know it?” she asked.
I loved that book. “Yeah, the one about Bill Gates and the Beatles.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. It got me thinking. Do you remember how it says kids in middle-class households continue their education over school holidays? How their parents are pushier, and tend to provide out-of-school learning? I’m generalizing, but on average, working-class children get less education outside of school—they aren’t as likely to attend museums, for example—than middle-class kids.”
I moved a strand of hair from her face. “Go on.”
“Blue-collar kids who start in the same place when school begins fall further and further behind every year because they don’t receive the same number of hours of education compared to the white-collar children.”
“Makes sense.” Her words ran together when she spoke, as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. She was passionate about this.
“Well, I’m developing an online summer school. More and more students have computers, so I’m trying to develop a holiday curriculum that’s fun—like a treasure hunt where they have to go to different worlds to do various tasks and play these games.”
My stomach dipped and swooped and I pulled her closer to me. She was really trying to do something meaningful. To change the world. It was a passion I understood.
“Do I sound naïve? Plenty of people say I do, so you won’t hurt my feelings.”
I’d known she had a good, caring heart, but suddenly I wasn’t sure I’d scratched the surface of how special she was. “It sounds like an amazing idea.”
“It does?”
“It really does.”
“Who knows if it will work out?”
It didn’t matter if it was successful, what mattered was that she’d tried, that she cared.
I reached for her hands, pressing my palms against hers and interlinking our fingers as I trailed my tongue over her collarbone.
“Education gets you hot?”
I grinned against her skin. “You get me hot.”
My tongue found her nipple, ripe and hard against my mouth. She writhed and moaned, arching against me, wanting more.
I worked my way down her perfect body, biting and licking, sucking and kissing, before getting to her pussy and taking in a deep breath of her.
She smelled so sweet.
“Blake, you don’t have to … you’re—”
“Don’t you get it? I want to. I like making you come. Making you happy feels good. Tasting you gets me hard. Feeling how wet you get thrills me. Having sex together shouldn’t just be about me. You know that now.”
Her cheeks bloomed red. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just learn to enjoy it.”
She let out a small laugh. “I would be happy to go to oral sex summer school. Perhaps Brianna could run that next summer.”
I thrust my fingers into her, and she gasped. I didn’t want to think about her with other guys. I shifted so I could drop a kiss on her clit.
I twisted my fingers. “No one can make you come like I can, can they?” I needed to hear it from her. Wanted her to realize this was different. I could tell by the look of wonder on her face that with me she’d felt things she’d never let herself feel before. Did she get it? I knew I did things to her no one else had.
She thrust her hands into my hair and lifted her hips as I sucked, trying to pull the answer from her.
I slid my tongue lower, then back up to her clit. She bucked and twisted. I pressed my free hand to her stomach, trying to keep her steady.
“Tell me,” I growled against her.
“No one,” she screamed. “Only you.”
Her fingers tightened in my hair as her body spasmed and shuddered under my touch. She sucked in a breath and I felt her explode beneath me as she screamed, “Blake, Blake, Blake.”
I watch as she stilled, then pulled her back to our now favorite postcoital pose, side by side and facing each other.
Her eyelids drooped, hazy and heavy, as if she was high. She looked so delicate. I wanted to offer to protect her for the rest of time. “I’m going to miss you.” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about them.
She curled her lips into a small smile and stared at my chest. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
We lay together, entangled by the fire until the flames turned to embers and the call of the herons signaled the approaching dawn, and our return to the ranch.
I stroked her back. “Is it time to go?” She sat up, looking out to the lake, only just visible in the blue light of the morning.
“It is,” I replied. A dull thump in my chest began, and I wasn’t sure if it would ever leave me when she was gone.
She nodded slowly and then turned to grab her shirt. Was she going to miss this? Us?
Enough to say yes if I suggested we see each other again?
It was selfish to want more from her, especially as I wasn’t sure what I had to give. I hadn’t decided about Boston and I didn’t know how to be in a relationship where I didn’t end up disappointing my girlfriend. Could I be enough for her?
I knew I had to find out.
Mackenzie
Blake switched off the engine in front of the ranch house, but neither of us made an attempt to get out of the truck.
“So this is it,” he said as I tried to ignore the pressing on my chest.
“I’ll see you at breakfast?” I asked, turning to face him. He nodded but his eyes were hard. He looked as if he was trying to avoid something. He was probably hoping I wouldn’t get emotional. “Okay. So this isn’t good-bye and anyway, I hate good-byes—not that it’s a big deal. Just …” I reached for the handle of the truck. I needed to stop talking. I didn’t want him to think he had to suggest we keep in touch. I knew the score—happily ever afters weren’t on the horizon. Surely the pressure in my chest, the emptiness I felt in my stomach, was because it was so unusual for me to do casual. I was uncomfortable because this was unfamiliar, not because Blake was important for my future happiness.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him, his lips finding mine.
A final kiss. The last time I’d feel his mouth against my skin. The space inside my stomach grew. I placed my hand on his chest.
“Breakfast then,” he said and I nodded and climbed out of the truck. Blake stayed put. No doubt he had things to do.
When I reached the porch, I glanced back at him and we locked eyes.
I’d miss him. More than I should.
I understood that my time with Blake would help me find the man I was meant to be with, give me the strength to put into practice what I’d learned at Love Rehab. It just felt like more of a wrench than I wanted it to be. Why were life lessons always so hard to learn?
I opened the bedroom door to find Kennedy and Rose fast asleep. I grabbed my notebook and headed back downstairs. I needed to get it together before everyone was awake and preparing to leave. Maybe some final breaths of Christie air would help me digest what had happened last night.
Blake telling me he might be moving to Boston had been a shock. I knew we had no future, but him being in Oklahoma was a practical reason why we couldn’t be more than we were in Christie, on top of all the emotional reasons. It kinda sealed the deal, allowed me not to think about him, us.
So now tha
t obvious roadblock may be taken away, I was forced to remind myself that he wasn’t the one I ended up with. Because if I’d learned anything at Love Rehab, it was that if I keep doing what I was doing, I’d keep getting what I was getting. I needed to live life differently. I couldn’t make every man want me, love me, marry me. Some men were for the moment. I knew it. But the thought of Blake in Boston, so close to me but not with me, turned my every breath green. I was jealous of all the girls in Massachusetts that would eat him up, of the one that would be his happily ever after. Although he was just a journey, my Munich, I wanted to have been the only one to experience how special he was.
If he had wanted to see me again, he would have said so. He hadn’t.
Not last night.
Not this morning.
Which was good. Because if he’d suggested it, I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to say no. What had happened between us was perfect and there was no way I wanted to spoil it. I would lock these Oklahoma nights away in my memory, and only bring them out occasionally to remind me of the woman I wanted to be. Nothing ever would be what I’d had with Blake, it couldn’t be. We’d worked because there was no pressure, no expectation. And it was better to keep the fantasy of him in my head than try for something more and ruin that.
And I needed to be single.
He would always be special to me and that’s how it would be left. An amazing memory unsullied by the reality of the everyday.
But I wanted to write him a note, a thank you. Something I could leave with him. I just didn’t know what to say. I stepped out of the door to the backyard and took a seat on the swing on the porch.
I opened my notebook.
Dear Blake,
I want you to know how much the last few days have meant to me.
No, too soppy. I turned the page to try again.
I want to say thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
No, I’d already said that. I tried again.
No one will ever make me come like you do.
I laughed. I couldn’t write that.
I sighed and sank back into the wicker chair.