Page 51 of Better than Yesterday
He was slow. Maddeningly slow. His tongue moved in deliberate, measured strokes that made my thoughts scatter like startled birds. I couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel. My hands gripped his hair, holding him to me, and he groaned against me, the vibration making my entire body shake with wanting.
“Braden, don’t stop.”
He explored with his tongue and lips, building a deep, centered ache in me that quickly became unbearable. When he increased the pressure, settling into an intense, sustained rhythm, my vision swam. My body arched off the mattress, desperate for more, desperate for release. He answered with a low, animalistic groan that vibrated through me. My tension became a blinding, unbearable need.
Then, with a single, deep, masterful sweep, he broke my control completely. Pleasure exploded through me, a white-hot wave that started deep in my belly and radiated outward, making my muscles clench and my toes curl. My body locked in a violent tremor that seemed to last forever, my vision filled with dazzling, incoherent light. I cried out his name. It was a ragged, untamed sound, the sound of my emotional walls finally crumbling.
He kissed his way back up my body, then grabbed a condom from my nightstand drawer. He settled over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, and I wrapped my legs around his hips. The position was intimate and familiar all at once.
“God, what you do to me.” His whispered words sounded like a confession, like something he’d been carrying for a very long time.
“Yessss. We’re so good together.”
He slid inside me slowly, and I closed my eyes against the overwhelming rightness of it. This wasn’t just sex. It was connection in the most primal way. We moved together, unhurried, our breaths mingling. His hand found mine and laced our fingers together, pinning them to the pillow beside my head. The eye contact was steady, unbroken, intimate in a way that was almost more vulnerable than the physical act itself.
He pulled back, then drove forward, setting a deep, intentional pace. I lifted my hips to meet him, clinging to his shoulders as our rhythms synchronized, the sound of skin-on-skin filling the quiet room. I focused on the sheer power of his body—the taut muscles of his back flexing under my hand, the rigid strength of his thighs against mine. Our rhythm naturally built and quickened. The heat intensified, and the exquisite pressure became too much, then exactly enough.
He pressed his hips down, claiming a deep, impossible space. I gasped and kissed him harder. Our linked hands tightened until my fingers ached, tethering me to him. He swiped his tongue over mine, and the coil of tension inside me began to unravel once more. It was pure sensation, pure presence, a desperate attempt to memorize every detail of our physical joining.
When we finally fell over the edge together, it wasn’t just a physical explosion. My climax was a tearing open, a simultaneous release of tension from my muscles and my soul. I tightened around him, a shudder running through my body that was perfectly mirrored by the powerful clench of his muscles against me. He drove in one final, shuddering thrust and cried out.
When he shifted, he pulled me with him and settled meclose until my head was tucked under his chin, his breath ragged against my hair. This was home.
Morning light slippedthrough the blinds in golden ribbons, transforming the beige walls into something warmer. After Braden woke, we drifted into easy domesticity as we discussed yesterday’s event, pointedly avoiding my parents’ visit. Coffee brewed while Braden leaned against the counter in nothing but his jeans, stealing kisses between sips.
“Mayor Delaney’s speech was something else.” He grinned as he handed me a mug.
I laughed. “I know! I didn’t expect that level of support from the community.”
“You earned it.” He traced a finger along my collarbone. “You’ve been showing up for this town every day since you got here.”
My phone buzzed on the counter. An email notification stopped my heart mid-beat.
Florida Coastal Conservation Initiative.
“Oh my God.”
Braden straightened and read over my shoulder. “The grant?”
I nodded, pulse kicking into overdrive. This was the foundation of my entire plan, the financial backing that would transform the conservation center from dream to reality. I opened the email.
Subject: Re: Application #FL-2024-MCG-0447 - Status Update
Dear Dr. Donovan,
Thank you for your comprehensive proposal submitted to the Florida Coastal Conservation Grant Program. After careful review byour selection committee, we regret to inform you we are unable at this time...
The words blurred. My brain caught on that one phrase, repeating it like a stuck record.We regret to inform you.
I read it twice, searching for some loophole. There wasn’t one. The coffee mug now weighed a thousand pounds, and I set it down carefully. This was the foundation of my plan to stay. Without it, the whole structure wobbled.
“Hey.” Braden was suddenly in front of me, his hands framing my face. “Talk to me.”
“What now?” My response came out brittle.
“Tessa.”
The gentleness in his voice cracked something inside me. “I needed this, Braden. The grant would have funded the center, at least to start. Without it, I don’t know if I can make the numbers work.”
