Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Fucking in sync comes so naturally between us, it’s like we were born for it.
Heath impales me deep and slow as I urge him on, then backs onto Josh’s invading cock every time he pulls away. I watch Josh kissing Heath’s shoulder from behind, smiling up at him as he whispers loving words into his ear, and I’m right there with them, feeling every flutter of romance myself.
We ride the waves, like the sea lapping at the shore until the tide comes in. Building and building, but revelling in every touching moment…
Because there is no doubt about it now. Not with this kind of energy in the room.
This is what Heath meant when he scrawled those words on the paper earlier. He meant this.
This is love making.
Exactly this.
And I’m so glad he fucking wrote it.
No matter what tomorrow morning brings, I’m so fucking glad he wrote it.
We come together in a perfect trio, and breathe together in the aftermath, holding each other tight. If we weren’t so pushed for time, I’d sleep in their arms all night long, but every moment is precious. I kiss the guys as they fuck each other into the night, and they kiss each other as each of them takes a turn with me.
We fuck, we suck, we kiss, and we come. But most of all, we feel.
Love. What a beautiful thing.
By the time the morning comes, we’re still a tangle of limbs and hungry kisses. I feel my soul sinking, because I don’t want to let this go.
I don’t want to catch the plane, and I don’t want to say goodbye to Heath.
I don’t want to leave the bubble of us we’ve built here, in a glorious villa in Cannes.
The clock is not kind. The minutes tick by in a flash as Josh and I pack up our belongings together, with Heath looking on. The connection is still thrumming, strong. And it only makes it harder.
When Heath disappears into the kitchen to prep some fruit salad for breakfast, I take Josh by the arm and pull him close.
“Can we ask to stay longer? Shall we ask him to come back with us? What do we do now? Are we really going to just drive away?”
Josh looks as broken by the thought as I do, but he pastes on a smile.
“I’ve been doing this for years, Ells. Leaving him behind. Cannes, with three of us involved, is a whole other league, but loving Heath and leaving Heath I’m familiar with. It’s different now, and it always will be, but we need to give it time. All of us. We have clients, and he has a production to prepare for.”
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that right now. I just want us here with him.”
I feel myself choking up, even though it was Josh freaking out last night, not me.
“Morning after syndrome,” my boyfriend says, and runs a thumb across my cheek.
“Life after syndrome more like it.”
“Yeah, I get you. I’m there, too. But we need to do it, Ella. Life goes on, and Heath will be in it with us. We just need to figure out how.”
“And when, and where, and how often…”
“Yeah, many questions. But we’ll do it. He wants it as much as we do.”
I’ve no doubt whatsoever about that.
Heath has the same energy of despondency himself when we wheel our cases into the breakfast room. He has coffee and juices and a whole platter of fruit prepped, and a glowing smile on his face, but there is more to it than that.
I guess that once the connection of soul energy has been tapped into, the instincts won’t be ignored. And mine are fucking screaming.
“I’ll miss you,” he says, like it needs pointing out.
“No shit,” I reply. “We’ll be missing you like hell until we see you next.”
“Morning after syndrome doesn’t even come close,” Josh adds, and the three of us toast with an orange juice, trying our best to keep our humour as we eat our breakfast.
“You’d better have these back,” Heath says, and returns our passports and phones from the security safe. My God, it feels so long ago that we handed them over.
I stare at my blank handset. I’ve become so used to being disconnected from the world.
Heath checks the time.
“Your cab will be here soon, so you should probably get out there. We should say our goodbyes in here. You know, because of…”
“Privacy, yeah, I know,” I say for him.
“Privacy at all costs, yeah, cool,” Josh says. “Come here.”
He pulls the two of us into his arms, and it’s a warmth I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to break away, and I don’t want to say goodbye, and I don’t want to be waiting outside like two random tourists when a cab pulls up to whisk us away, but what will be will be.