His gut started burning. His eyes never leaving hers, he wrapped his fist around his hard cock and started rubbing the tip against her.

He felt her warm damp turn wet.

He dropped his face closer.

Her breath came faster, her eyes went slightly hazy, but she still stayed focused and kept whispering.

“This fucks up, I can ramble around here all alone and be happier doing it, just having these memories of you being here with me.”

She got that shit out.

Time to shut it down.

He caught at her pussy and slowly glided into Olivia’s soft sleek.

She licked her lips, arching her back, her other leg wrapping around his ass, both her hands pressing hard into the muscle of his back.

“This is not gonna fuck up,” he growled, gliding out and taking his time, doing the same gliding back in.

“Okay, Nick.”

He kept moving inside her.

“We’re gonna make more memories. Here. At my place. Anywhere we fuckin’ want.”

“Okay, honey,” she breathed.

“We’re not gonna lose shit,” he promised.

He kept moving, going deeper.

She slid one hand up and curled it tight around the back of his neck, the other arm she wrapped around him to hold on.

“I’m gonna make it good,” he vowed.

She tipped her hips up, gazing into his eyes, now panting.

“You gotta believe,” he ordered.

“Believe,” she whispered.

He went faster.

She held on tighter.

“You gotta believe, Livvie,” he grunted.

“I believe, honey.”

He took her mouth. He fucked her cunt. She came hard for him. He shot deep in her.

He stayed on top and tangled his hand in the back of her hair, holding her still as he said in her ear, “No more talk like that. You think like that, you don’t sleep. You think like that, you worry. You gotta let that go, Liv. I’m gonna make it all okay. You gotta let it go and believe.”

“I’ll let go.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Nick.”

He drew in breath.

He let it go.

He felt her body yielding beneath him.

She’d let it go too.

Letting it go, it was time to move on.

And it was Saturday. They had time to move on to good things.

So he moved on, doing it lifting his head and again kissing his Livvie.

* * * * *

8:27 – Sunday Morning

His back and shoulders to his headboard, his knees cocked, feet in the bed, his hand full of Livvie’s hair, holding it back, he thrust up, watching her take his cock with her mouth.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Twisting her hair gently, he went still so he wouldn’t blow.

She didn’t.

Without him thrusting, she started bobbing.

Fuck.

“Livvie, only warning you’re gonna get,” he growled.

Without breaking her rhythm, on an upward glide, she wrapped her hand around his dick as she released him with her mouth.

Then she gave him her hot, hungry eyes as she jacked him.

Jesus.

Fuck.

“Take me there, baby,” he ordered thickly, his hand still in her hair, gripping tight.

She stayed between his legs but leaned over him, still jacking him, hand in the bed beside his hip, her beautiful face, gorgeous naked body and fist pumping his dick all he could see.

“Fuck,” he grunted, thrusting up, fucking her hand.

She made a noise that was hungrier than the look in her eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and closed his eyes as she took him there and he exploded, shooting on his stomach.

She milked him dry, stroked him sweet and he came down with her pressed to his side, feeling her cheek on his shoulder, his hand still in her hair.

He gave it a gentle tug, dipped his chin and caught her eyes before he took her mouth.

Because she tasted good, because he was falling in love with her and because she’d earned it, he kissed her deep and wet and he did it for a fucking long time.

He released her mouth after she released his cock and wrapped her arm around his ribcage.

He opened his eyes to see her looking at him.

“So, did that earn me cinnamon French toast?” she asked.

Nick stared at her.

Then he burst out laughing.

* * * * *

9:02 – The Same Sunday Morning

Standing at his kitchen counter with Livvie next to him, close, in the curve of his arm, he lifted to her mouth a fork full of the crunch coated, cinnamon French toast smothered in maple syrup that he’d made his girl.

When her lips closed around it, he slid the fork out. She chewed. He watched her eyes get big with happiness and wonder and she again meant more to him than she did the previous day…hell, the previous moment.

And she did this in a way that he knew every moment with her would give him that same feeling.

He wasn’t falling in love.

She had him.

He was hers.

She swallowed and instantly asked, “Can I blow you and jack you every morning for French toast?”

“Absolutely,” he answered just as instantly.

She pressed deep and dissolved into laughter.

Yeah.

Definitely.

Every moment with Livvie.

She gave him that same feeling.

In a way he knew.

He knew.

He knew she’d give him that now…

And forever.

Chapter Twenty-One

Who Do You Belong To?

Nick

5:45 – That Next Friday Evening

Nick sat in the aisle seat, staring ahead of him, only the stragglers that were sitting back in coach coming up the gangway.

Liv was not beside him.

An hour ago, she’d texted that she was on her way.