I spin her back around to face outward, placing both of her hands on the rail and hastily reaching into my back pocket to retrieve the lone condom from my wallet. I always wondered why I carried this damn thing around, never thinking I’d actually use it. My shorts fall the rest of the way down my legs, pooling at my ankles as I rip the foil packet open with my teeth and use one hand to roll it onto my hard shaft. The other hand doesn’t leave the small of her back, not wanting to lose the physical contact.
Once it’s on, I reach out, lift my t-shirt up to expose her splendid ass, and cup her already-soaked sex. “You sure you want this?” I grumble as I pat her folds with my hand.
“Not want...need,” she moans, arching her back into my touch.
Lining the tip of my cock up perfectly with her slippery opening, I grasp a hip in each hand and slowly slide inside of her tight pussy, reveling in the ecstasy of every fucking inch until I’m completely buried inside her.
“Oh my...fuck, Leo,” she purrs, wiggling her ass against me. “Don’t hold back.”
So I don’t.
After more than ten minutes of hard thrusting, hair pulling, neck kissing, and boob groping, she cries out she’s going to come. And come she does. Her already snug walls clamp down on me like a vise as she explodes, bringing me to join her with my own orgasm. I thought her mouth felt good, but this…this is fucking heaven. My balls tighten, I dig my fingers into her flawless skin, and I come harder and longer than I ever have in my life.
My chest flattens flush against her back, both of us a sweaty mess as we float down from our euphoric high, struggling to catch our breath. That was nothing short of amazing...incredible...actually, there isn’t a word I can think of to do it justice.
“You’re right,” she says breathlessly. “Sunrises are much better.”
I lift my stare slightly to see the sun’s now fully visible out over the horizon. Smiling, still cozily inside her, I tilt her head back so I can see the satisfaction shimmering in those beautiful green eyes, green eyes that are now permanently etched into my memory.
“I’ll never see another sunrise again without thinking about this moment,” I admit truthfully. “Now let’s get you inside. I’m not giving the neighbors another show during round two.”
Or three…
Or four...
FLAT ON MY BACK, I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what in the hell just happened. Trystan is curled up next to me like a tiny kitten sound asleep, passed out from sheer exhaustion, and making the most adorable snoring sound each time she inhales. I never in my life thought snoring and adorable could be used in the same sentence, but she makes it work.
Somehow we went from the wedding, to the beach, to marathon sex—the last of which I really had no intentions of—in the blink of an eye. After I took her on the patio, we christened every piece of furniture in the suite, and then wrapped up the epic morning with a tryst in the shower. No doubt, my dick is going to be sore tomorrow; that’s more of a workout than he’s had…well, in forever.
I know there’s a reason I need to get up; I’ve got to do something, but for the life of me, I can’t think of what it is right now. The little minx next to me has turned my brain into a scrambled mess, and the only thing I want is to stay in this bed with her all day.
On cue, my cell phone vibrates, alerting me of a text message.
11:08 AM: Where are you? I’m downstairs in the restaurant. -K
“Oh shit!” I exclaim as I jolt out of bed, waking Trystan up in the process.
She sits up groggily and rubs her sleepy eyes as the sheet falls down to her waist, exposing her full, round, creamy breasts. God, she’s fucking gorgeous. I could wake up to that sight every morning.
“What’s going on?” she asks, still confused on why I leapt from the bed.
Realizing I’m standing there like an idiot just gawking at her, I shake my head to clear my thoughts and refocus on what I need to be doing. I crawl up onto the bed next to her and tenderly kiss her lips. “Good morning, beautiful. Sorry I startled you like that, but I lost track of time. I was supposed to meet Katrina downstairs for lunch ten minutes ago; not to mention, I have to check out of the room in less than an hour.”
“Katrina?”
“The bride…the one I walked down the aisle,” I explain.
“Oh, okay. I’ll get dressed and get out of here. Don’t worry about me,” she replies despondently.
“No, I want to walk you out. Wait for me and we’ll go downstairs together,” I argue.
“It’s oka—”
I cut her off with another kiss. And then another. “Please let me walk you to the door, Trystan. I want every last minute I can have with you.”
“Okay,” she concedes hesitantly, and I feel I’ve won a small battle, a very small one, because either way, our goodbye is inevitable.
I type out a reply to Katrina, letting her know I’ll be down in fifteen minutes, and begin throwing my clothes into my suitcase. As I quickly dress in jeans and a t-shirt, caring more about comfort than looks for my long flight home, Trystan gathers her swimsuit and dress off of the floor and disappears into the bathroom. The sinking feeling in my gut grows by the minute, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it, and that fucking sucks.
The smile on her face is forced, but I appreciate her attempt to act like she’s okay with everything that’s happening. “I’m ready when you are,” she says overly cheerful. I nod, at a loss for the right thing to say, and walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth and grab my toiletries.
Five minutes later, we’re walking out the door. Our fingers are interlaced as we ride the elevator down to the ground floor; spoken words are nonexistent, but in the silence, I’m suffocating from the messages we’re sending each other. Neither of us is ready for this to end—whatever this is—but neither of us has a choice.
The doors open and we exit. Each step we take is one closer to the end.
And then we’re there.
At the door she’s about to walk out of.
Out of my life.
Forever.
It seems impossible I could feel so many emotions in such a short amount of time, but they’re there. A fuck ton of them, like a pile of bricks weighing heavy in my gut.
We stop walking and I set my suitcase down on the ground. As we turn to face each other, I snatch her up in my arms, holding her as close as humanly possible to my body, tattooing the way she feels…the way she smells…all of her, onto my soul. She leans back slightly, lifting her soft hands to cup my face, rubbing gently across the stubble. “Knowing how hard this moment is, I’d do it all over again the exact same way,” she whispers, her bright green eyes swimming in tears.
Resting my forehead on hers, I smile softly then press my lips to hers, getting one last taste. “Me too, beautiful. Me too.”
“I’ll never forget the sunrise we shared. Take care of yourself, Leo.” And with one last squeeze of my hand, Trystan walks away without another look back.
I swallow back the lump in my throat and walk in a daze over to the bellhop desk, leaving my bag with them while I eat and check out. As I approach the restaurant, Katrina is standing right outside the door, her sapphire eyes big as saucers and her mouth hanging wide open. I know she just witnessed the entire scene unfold at the door, and I have no idea what I’m going to say about it.
“Well, that explains why you were late,” she says as she gives me a quick hug. I’m not quite sure if it’s jealousy I hear in her voice, or if she’s just pissed I’m late ‘cause I was with another girl. Either way, she can get over it.
“Sorry about that, Katie-bug. Let’s grab a table; I’m starving.” I choose to ignore the aloofness.
Nothing else is said until we are seated by a hostess and our drink order is taken. I need a beer; I don’t care what time it is.
“Are you going to explain?” she questions, prodding in a tone that sounds more like a demand than an inquiry, not letting the subject drop.
/>
“There’s nothing to explain. I’m here to catch up with you. Tell me what you’ve been up to the last couple of years.”
“Leo, you just held and kissed a girl—a pregnant girl, no less—at the door, making it look like you were saying goodbye to the love of your life. So, unless you made a visit here I didn’t know about some months ago, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that’s not your baby. Excuse me for being curious about what the hell is going on!”
I thread my fingers through my hair, already emotional and growing more and more frustrated, trying desperately not to get mad. This girl was my life for almost thirty years, and in a few short hours, I’m about to say goodbye to her again. “Katrina, it’s really none of your business; I no longer work for you. But if you must know, no, it’s not my baby, and no, she’s not the love of my life. I walked her down the aisle to marry someone else two days ago,” I grumble. “I met Trystan at your wedding, and we’ve been hanging out. She’s a beautiful, intelligent, funny girl, and if the circumstances were different, I’d love to get to know her better, but they’re not. Now, I’ve got two hours before I need to leave for the airport and go home. I’d really like to spend that time with you enjoyably, instead of bickering.”
She looks down at her hands in her lap, uncomfortable and remorseful, and I immediately feel bad. This is not how I pictured this lunch going. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s been an emotional week,” I apologize sincerely.
“I understand. I shouldn’t have pushed,” she replies. “It’s just hard. You were a huge part of my life forever, and then you disappeared, vanished. I mean, I understand why…I still can’t believe why, but I get it. Then, I don’t see or hear from you for two years, not a word, nothing, until you show up at my wedding. It’s been a roller coaster for me too.”
Palms-up on the table, I lay out my hands and then dip my chin, indicating I want her to put hers in mine. Once she does, I squeeze them tightly. “Let’s start this conversation over, Katie-bug. Tell me how you’ve been. I want to hear the good things; tell me your plans as Mrs. Lucca Ellis.”
So, for the next couple of hours, we do exactly that. Katrina boasts excitedly about the music school she’s opening in Miami in the fall, which will cater to inner-city kids, and how Lucca is even more fantastic than she originally thought. He earned his Master’s online over the last couple of years, while teaching during the day, and he got a job coaching baseball at his old high school. She’s thrilled to be out of the high-paced city life, far away from the memories of the life she left behind.
Her happiness is my happiness. Truly. I did what I did so she could have this life, even if it wasn’t the route I should’ve taken to obtain it for her.
But we don’t discuss that, or him.
Robert Green is never mentioned.
After lunch, Katrina offers to take me to the airport so I don’t have to take a cab, which prolongs our time together. I briefly talk about my current situation; there’s really not much to tell. We exchange numbers, and I give her an email address I have under a different name to keep my anonymity. I don’t have to explain to her why.
She stops the car in the departures drop off area and pulls me into a warm embrace. “Don’t be a stranger, Leo. Even if you don’t come back for a while, send me a message every so often to let me know you’re okay. You know I’ll worry.”
“I’ll be fine, Katie-bug,” I reply, kissing the top of her head, “but I promise I’ll keep in touch.”
“Thank you again for coming. I can’t tell you how much it meant to have you there.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
After one last hug, I climb out of the car and walk into the airport. Three hours later, I’m thirty-five thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, popping a pill to help me sleep during the twelve hour flight home, a sleep filled with dreams of a certain green-eyed beauty whom I’ll most likely never see again.
IT’S TRUE WHAT THEY SAY. People come into your life for a reason—some are a blessing, while others are a lesson. I’ve learned some can be both.
Brandt Howard was overwhelmingly a lesson, one I’m glad I learned earlier, rather than later in life. You can’t make someone be what they don’t want to be, no matter how much you hope and try. He never wanted to be a real boyfriend, and he definitely didn’t want to be a father, so when he returned from his European getaway two summers ago, I relieved him of both burdens. He and his selfishly driven inclinations couldn’t resist the offer I placed in front of him. He could sign away the rights to the baby, and I wanted nothing except the promise he or his family would never fight me for her. One quick trip to an attorney’s office, and the document was signed and filed with the county courthouse, freeing me of the invisible line he’d kept me dangling from for far too long.
But he unknowingly gifted me with the most cherished blessing I could ever have—my daughter.
Leo Basille was, without a doubt, a blessing, one that walked into my life at the precise moment I needed him. He’d been a man who overlooked my obvious flaws and consumed every fiber of my being, if only for a couple of days, but a couple of days that changed my life forever. He taught me what it was to feel appreciated, cherished, and respected. Gentle but strong, soft but savage, he awakened a hunger inside me I’d never known, a hunger for intense passion that still resonates in me today, but has yet to be sated. However, I know it’s in me, I know how it should feel, and I won’t settle for less again. I deserve a man who makes me feel as beautiful as he did. I own that right.
Unfortunately, in the wake of Leo leaving, I learned a devastating lesson as well. Things that seem too good to be true almost always are. When I found the one person who stimulated my mind and soul as much as my body, it would be someone who lived on the other side of the earth, with no desire to relocate, or apparently keep in touch. I haven’t heard a word from him since the day I walked out of his hotel, even though my cell phone number hasn’t changed, nor has my address. Despite the myriad of pointless tears I’ve cried over him, I meant the words I said to him before I left. Knowing everything, I’d do it all over again. In a heartbeat.
And I still wake up every morning to watch the sunrise. Every damn morning.
“Rora, wait for mommy!” I call out after my wobbling toddler, who only has eyes for the shore breaking directly in front of her.
Thankful for her still unsteady movements, I catch up in two long strides, lifting her by the waist and tossing her into the air. Belly laughs ensue, and as I stare into her jade-colored eyes—my eyes—my heart overflows with joy.
“You couldn’t wait two minutes while I set up the blanket, could you, you little stinker?” I half-scold, half-tease her as I set her tiny feet back in the warm sand, confirming she’s stable before releasing my hold.
She peers up at me and flashes me her one-dimpled smile before refocusing her sights on the turquoise water. Remaining by her side as she approaches the waves, I wait for it, knowing it’s coming, and then, like every single time she does this, she squeals with delight as loud as she possibly can, when the tepid water washes over her ankles.
Our day trips to Oleta River State Park have become a weekly ritual for me and my little fair-haired princess this summer. Every Wednesday morning—my only day without work, class, or clinicals—we set up shop on a beach blanket and spend the day building sandcastles, searching for seashells, and playing in the water. Wednesdays are by far my favorite day of the week.
Last summer, I spent day and night playing catch-up with my classes from the fall semester I’d missed, and somehow managed to get back on track with graduating from the Doctorate program this December. Aurora was still an infant then, and even though she most likely won’t remember the countless hours spent in our apartment, usually playing in her jumper watching every Baby Einstein DVD produced, while my nose was either buried in a textbook or staring at a computer screen, I continue to feel guilty about not taking her on more fun outings and allowing
the rectangular babysitter to be such a big part of her life.
Things are much improved now; I’m still quite the busy single mom between my bartending shifts, classwork, and internship at the hospital, but I dedicate every Wednesday and every Sunday evening to her, uninterrupted and without fail. If it wasn’t for my sister, however, none of it would be possible. Madison not only keeps Aurora for me while I work and go to school, but she’s my rock in every aspect of my life, my support system, my confidant, and the best friend a girl could ever ask for. Our parents made a detour from their traveling lifestyle when I first had the baby. My mom stayed with me for about a month helping me adjust and teaching me tricks of the mothering trade, but they’re back on the road again now, only popping in every couple of months to shower their granddaughters with presents from all over.
“Mama,” she coos, grabbing hold of my legs. “Wawa, mama. Rora, wawa.”
Bending at the knees, I squat down next to her and grin. “That’s right, baby girl. Mama and Aurora are in the water. You love it here, don’t you?”
She nods emphatically, her blonde ringlets bobbing up and down as she watches her toes sink into the sandy granules. “Beeeesssss,” she states proudly. “Mama Rora bees.”
“Yep, Mama and Rora are at the beach,” I confirm, pulling yet another smile from her heart-shaped face. Damn, I must have the smartest kid on the planet; maybe those videos weren’t so bad after all. “You want to go with me to get the bucket, so we can build princess castles?”
She doesn’t answer with words; instead, she grabs my hand and begins pulling me towards where our stuff is. I knew she couldn’t resist if I called them ‘princess castles’. Not quite two years old, and Disney’s already brain-washed her into believing all little girls will grow up to be beautiful princesses who live happily ever after in extravagant castles with their own Prince Charming. Sighing softly to myself, I grab the various-sized pink and purple shovels and buckets and follow her to where she’s plopped down in her ruffled swimsuit. Walt Disney doesn’t have anything on my castle architecture.