Page 22 of The Last Kiss

I give a small shake of my head. “That was the rule.”

He glares and I desperately keep an eye on his erection hoping we don’t have a last minute capsize. Nope. Still upright. The towering mast on a ship at sea.

And fuck if I don’t want to be that sea.

“So give me a name,” I whisper. I’d happily be anyone other than Julianna Brown with the death sentence right now in this moment.

Don’t make me be her.

I watch him.

He watches me.

“Juliette.”

I laugh. Is he for real? Could he have chosen a name closer to my own? “Juliette?” I say it like him. Juuuuliette

He nods, satisfied with my unexpected baptism. Reaching forward, I clasp his hand and yank him down. “Good. Can you fuck me now?”

“Please?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Please,” I beg on a whisper and he pushes straight for home. I gasp, stretching around him. His hand palms my hair, gaze firmly on mine, unflinching, as he pushes to the absolute hilt and I’m pretty sure he’s breaching my goddamn cervix.

Fully home, he closes his eyes, serenity flooding his face for a moment until his eyes flicker back open and he shoots me a secret smile that could spin a million promises if only I’d let it.

I stretch my hands above my head, pushing my tits for the ceiling, meeting his thrusts, waiting for heaven to come and find me.

No names.

One night.

One thing ticked off my imaginary bucket list.

I give myself up, losing myself in the Frenchman, pushing deeper and deeper until I’m crying, toe pointing, feeling him buried deep within me and he’s groaning, hips flying, lips smashing.

He collapses on me, winding the little air I have left in my lungs, staying inside me, connected through the comedown. His arm tugs around me tight, holding me close, lips brushing my neck. “Sleep,” he murmurs.

“Should I not go?” My chest gives a strange and strangled hitch, but he cranks an eye, arm tightening.

“Sleep.”

Strangely I want to. It’s so calm, like being washed up on a desert island of zero expectation. Darkness slips around us, wrapping us tight in an unexpected moment.

Later, when his body is spooned around mine, his breath steady and heavy, I shift from under his weighty arm.

I can’t look back. Can’t look at his sleeping form, long limbs tangled, a sheet around a taut waist. Muscles that could make a grown woman weep.

The magic of being Juliette is fading fast. The short break from reality the man mountain reprieved me with is ending.

I’ve got to go home. Got to face Olivia. Need to face the truth of all the things.

I pull my clothes on, grab my bag. Tears slip down my face. Such a shame. He really is beautiful.

It was just a moment.

Just one moment.

One night.