Oceans, skies, the rarest of jewels—none of them are as captivating as his eyes. “Your eyes are my favorite blue.”
His lips curl, a dimple popping on one cheek. “Your everything is my favorite.”
Our foreheads kiss. “Thank you for coming.”
His mouth moves over mine. This man and the way he kisses me with his whole body—his whole heart surrendered to the drag of his lips down my jaw, the smooth glide of his fingers up my leg, then my spine until he finds my ponytail, giving it a firm tug to gain access to my neck.
Between kisses, Rowan groans hot, breathy curses down my throat. He pulls at the neckline of my sweatshirt looking for more skin, more places for his tongue and teeth to claim me. I’m already his but I’d let him mark me however he wanted.
“Tell me, sunshine. Tell me this is what you want right now.”
I draw back, concern filling his eyes like I might actually stop this. He wouldn’t question it if I did. But he’s wrong. “Ineedthis.”
My fingers curl under the hem of my sweatshirt, ready to peel it off, when he yanks the fabric back down. “No. Leave it on.”
Our mouths meld together again, smiles and tongues and heat. I rid him of his shirt and run my hands over his skin. All tanned flesh, black ink and scars, the dips and curves of his muscles are carved to perfection. Hard and soft in all the right places.
“I miss you,” I murmur against his lips.
“I’m here now, baby.” He sets my hand over my heart, his palmresting on top. “But I’m always here.” Then he flips our hold so I feel his own heartbeat. “And this still belongs to you.”
The words tumble around madly in my chest, race through my veins completely out of my control until I can’t contain them a second longer. “I love you.”
My shoulders dip in relief, but I tense a moment later. It feels so good to say it, but I didn’t want it to come out like that when he’s leaving so soon. “I’m sorry, I know it’s the wrong time and I know I said we shouldn’t?—”
He steals my words on a hard, searing kiss. “It’s never the wrong time to say it.”
Rowan takes my face in his hands.God,the way he looks at me like I’m his and he’s mine and our inevitable goodbye is inconsequential—it’s beautiful.
“I’ve been in love with you for months,” he says. “There’s no logic or reason to it and it shouldn’t make sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.I love you.And I don’t care how or when or why you say it. I wanna keep saying it because it’s real, Hannah.Thisis real. The last something real we have left because anything that could possibly come after—the good, the bad, the terrifying—none of it scares me. At the end of the day, I’m still gonna love you. You’re it for me, baby. Have been since the night I met you.”
“I don’t wanna say goodbye anymore,” I confess.
He dashes a stray tear off my cheek. “It’snotgoodbye. Never has been.”
We’re kissing again, feverish and fierce until my entire body is on fire.
I rip our lips apart and push to my feet, fighting for air as I slide my panties off. His lips are swollen, pupils dark and blown. “Tell me again.” My mouth is back on his before he can answer, and I pin his legs between mine, pulling at the waistband of his jeans to free him from his boxers. “Tell me you love me.”
My hand wraps around the length of him, his head falling back as he breathes, “I love you so much.” I pump him once and he groans. “Sogoddamnmuch, baby.”
He glides a finger through the slickness between my thighs. My chest heaves, breath caught in my lungs—it’s been too long and I’m already so close.
“You. I wanna feelyou,” I demand, shoving his hand away to position him at my entrance.
Mouth open against his, I sink down onto him, slow and savoring. He fills me to the max, and the sensation of having him back inside me makes me instantly heady, dizzy with want.
I let the words coast across his lips again. “I love you.”
His smile lifts, beard tickling my face. Broad palms splay over my upper thighs and around to my ass, guiding my hips to rock. And I do, gently at first, unhurried because I don’t want this to end. I want him here. With me. Just like this.Forever.
But then he kisses me again, tongues tangling, and I moan over his soft grunts of pleasure every time I ease my pelvis back and roll forward. I run my fingers through his hair, he hums, and we’re bothright there, moments away from falling off the cliff.
My vision blurs, as I lose myself in the feel of it all. Too lost to take what my body screams for. “Rowan, I—I need—ahh!More, I need more, please, I can’t?—”
The flesh of my hips puckers between his strong fingers. “God,baby,” he groans. “You’re the most beautiful damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Rowan doles out praise in a way that feels like absolute truth—period, end of sentence. I’m not naked, his hoodie dwarfs my upper half, and I’m in yesterday’s makeup. But he tells me I’m beautiful and I believe it. He tells me I’m strong, I’m a fighter, that I’m not broken.And I believe it.