How to Honeymoon Alone

I wriggle closer, but I keep my legs shut. His touch sends shivers up my body. “Nope,” I say. “But I’m curious about something.”

“Tell me,” he says.

“What did your family say? About you taking this three-month position out here?”

His hand stills on my hipbone, the heel of his palm pushing down right at the top of my thigh. Just inches away. “Eden,” he says.

I give him an innocent smile. “Come on, I’m really curious.”

“They were surprised,” he says and leans his head back against the couch. “But I think it made sense to them-after they thought about it-that I might want a change of scenery. You know, after everything.”

“I get that,” I say. “My parents were almost expecting me to move away after the whole debacle with Caleb and Cindy.”

“I bet they’re happy you didn’t,” he says, and I nod. My parents and I are close. They haven’t met Phillip, yet, but they’ve definitely heard of him.

His fingers tap a slow rhythm on my hip. “Tess kept pushing me to tell her why I was moving.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah. She’s like a bloodhound when she can scent a secret.”

I scoot closer to him, tilting my hips up. “And did you? Tell her?”

Phillip smirks. “Yeah. Eventually.”

“Oh.”

“She was surprised at first and then not surprised at all. ‘When you least expect it,’ she said, ‘that’s when you find it.'”

My breath catches. “Yeah. I have to say, I didn’t expect to meet you on my honeymoon trip.”

He chuckles. “Neither did I, baby.”

“But I’m glad I did.”

“Me, too,” he says softly. His hand brushes over my stomach, but it doesn’t move lower. I tilt my hips up again. “Touch me,” I say.

He chuckles. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“I’m getting there,” I say, and it’s the truth. With Phillip, nothing is off-limits. No conversation topic, no joke, and nothing I might want to explore. He’s there for all of it, giving just as well as me. It’s the kind of freedom I’ve never experienced.

He inches up the button-down I’m wearing, exposing me fully. I watch him as he watches me. The air on my skin feels cool, but his gaze is hot.

Fridays are usually just like this. He gets into town after a week of work, and we celebrate the start of the weekend exactly like this. At home, indulging in one another.

Then, we spend our Saturdays and Sundays exploring the area, going grocery shopping, or watching movies.

After each weekend, I long even more for the next one. For him.

Phillip’s fingers start to tease and stroke me, right where I need them, and my eyes drift half-shut. There’s still residual pleasure in my body from earlier, I’m sensitive, and it doesn’t take long for my breathing to speed up.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters. “It tugs my heart, all the damn time.”

And I believe him.

Because I feel the same way about him. It doesn’t matter if it’s seeing him wake up in the morning or bantering during long car rides, or even when he’s focused on work emails.

“That’s it,” he murmurs and slides a finger inside me. “God, you’re pretty.”

My back starts to arch. His fingers hasten, circling and stroking and pumping, and then he bends over and puts his tongue to my clit.

I come.

He strokes me through all of it.

I return slowly back to myself, my legs still splayed across his lap, and his shirt half-unbuttoned and bunched up around my chest.

His hands soothe my hips. “That’s it.”

“Wow,” I whisper and look into his warm eyes. The dark-blue is liquid, and a soft smile lurks at the corner of his lips. “I love you.”

His hands pause. My words hang in the air between us, a tangible, shimmering thing. One that can be accepted or rejected.

His mouth tightens. “You do?”

“Yes,” I say. My hair must be a mess, and I’m half-naked, and I feel more like myself than I have in a long, long time. “It’s okay if you’re not there, yet, or if you don’t want to say it. But I want you to know how I feel.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yes, so much, I don’t know what to do with it all. It’s taken me by surprise… but I love that, too.”

He shifts us, moves so he’s half resting on top of me. His face is close to mine, and his weight is delicious on top of me. “Eden,” he murmurs and kisses me. “Eden, fuck.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “It’s fine. This doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s not that.” He rests his head against my neck. For a long time, he doesn’t move, and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my breast.

Then he lifts his head, and his eyes are glazed. “I love you, too. I have for much longer than I realized. It crept up on me, slow at first, and then so fast that I was deep in it before I knew.”

“You do?” I murmur.

He nods once, and his hand comes up to cup my face. “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this, or felt this much before.”

“Not like this,” I say.

“Not like this,” he agrees. “I know how bad it can hurt when things fall apart. And now? Feeling like this? I don’t think I could handle it, Eden. If I lost you.”

I wrap my legs around his hips and rest my forehead against his. “You won’t.”