My sweet-talking man. Smiling, I take him in my mouth. Slowly, at first, then with more intent. I moan at the masculine taste of him, the heat of his cock as it slides through my lips.

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, sliding his fingers down to cup my head, play with my hair.

I suck and lick and tease until he’s panting and groaning. I could do this forever, but it’s not long before his hand brushes the side of my face and his hips pull away to signal I have to stop unless I want this to be over quickly.

So I straddle him again, pressing myself against his hard cock, grinding on his shaft. Conor grabs my ass with both hands, urging my movements.

I tug my shirt over my head, and his attention moves to my breasts. He cups them, kneading them in both hands, his thumbs playing with my nipples. Then he adjusts his position and sits up, one arm wrapped behind my back to support us both. He lowers his head and sucks one nipple into his mouth, while his fingers tease the other. Within seconds my insides are twisted tight, my clit is throbbing, and I can’t stand the teasing any longer.

“I want to be inside you,” he breathes.

“Condoms are in the bedroom.”

With no warning he stands us up and carries me to the bed. He puts a condom on while I shimmy out of my pajama shorts. We’re both naked now, breathing hard, gazes locked.

Then he growls, “C’mere,” and I smile and climb on top of him.

I lean down and press my lips to his, and just as he parts them to let my tongue slide into his mouth, I deliberately come down on his dick. We both moan, delighting in the sensation. He fills me completely, his body satiating my every aching need.

He doesn’t rush me. Hands resting loosely on my hips, he lets me set the pace. Find my own perfect rhythm where every plunge sends pleasure skittering across my nerve endings. Soon I quicken my movements, riding him with greater insistence.

Conor bites down on his lip but can’t stop the low, quiet groans that build in his chest. And when he can’t control his body, he grabs my tits with both hands and thrusts his hips into me. Harder, faster. Both of us sprinting toward magnificent release.

He knows my body, sometimes even better than I do. Sensing my need, he presses his thumb to my clit and starts rubbing. Gentle at first, then applying more pressure as I rock forward and back on his dick, finding that perfect angle where he’s deep inside and hitting the sweetest spot.

“Oh, fucking fuckturtles, I’m coming,” I choke out, and his answering laughter heats the air around us.

I’m too mindless with orgasm to laugh back. My muscles clench in a cascade of pure bliss, and I collapse on top of him as my body trembles wildly. He chases his own orgasm, pumping into me until he finds his own release a moment later, moaning my name.

Afterward, we’re hot and sweaty and clinging to one another.

“I missed you,” he says, breathless.

“I missed us.”

“Let’s stop breaking up, deal?”

I’m not sure how I got lucky enough to meet Conor Edwards. Like all the times the world took a shit on my shoes were leading up to this one big I’m sorry gift. Sometimes we make all the wrong decisions, end up in all the wrong places, and still find exactly where we’re supposed to be. Conor’s my happy accident. My wrong place, wrong time, exactly right guy. He taught me how to love myself against my best efforts, showed me an image of myself I’d never believed was there. Strong. Beautiful. Confident.

And I’ll never take that for granted again.

Rising up on my elbow, I peer into his sated, heavy-lidded eyes and smile. “Deal.”

Epilogue

CONOR

Well, it took a few bruises and a hell of a lot of patience, but I finally got Taylor to stand up on a surfboard.

From just beyond the swells, I straddle my board and watch as she rides the end of a wave into the shallow foam. Her stance is still a bit awkward and uncertain, but I think she’s getting a feel for it. When she pops out of the water after her ride into shore, she’s got a big shiny grin on her face. She waves, ecstatic, making sure I saw her. Then she hops up and down a couple times and forms a victory sign with her arms.

Fuck, she’s adorable.

Having her here in Huntington Beach the last three weeks has been such a relief, for both of us. Zero stress. Just sleeping in, chilling at the beach, showing her the sights. It’s the perfect antidote for the headaches back on campus.

My mom and Max love her. So much so they’re already making plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas. She’s my future now, and I’m hers.

Coach is totally going to kick my ass when he realizes he’s stuck with me at another family dinner with Iris.

I had hoped I could keep Taylor’s mind off anything that wasn’t the beach or us doing naked stuff, but a few times now I’ve caught her on the phone or with her laptop open, hard at work. Apparently, when she and Rebecca made the decision to file the police report, they hatched a plan first. With Abigail and Kappa’s help, they’re petitioning the Greek Council on campus to host a seminar on consent, sexual assault, and sexual harassment. They’re inviting several guest speakers to host talks and want to promote a month of outreach and awareness ahead of pledge week in the fall.

I’ve never seen Taylor so passionate and engaged on anything. Not gonna lie, at first I was worried the project might start to have a negative effect on her mood—dragging all of those feelings to the surface again—but it’s done just the opposite. She’s never looked happier since they got the ball rolling on this. It’s like having a mission is finally giving her some real peace of mind.

“Hey,” Taylor calls as she paddles up alongside me, a little out of breath but smiling wide.

“You’re getting better, babe. That was almost not atrocious.”

Laughing, she slaps a handful of water at me. “Dick.”

“Brat.”

She gets herself turned around so we’re both facing the shore. “Your phone was ringing when I went back to our stuff for a drink. Screen said Devin.”

“Oh, nice. That’s the guy from the non-profit I was telling you about.”

“Yeah? A call is a good sign, right?”

Taylor is returning to Boston in a few days, and I’m not heading back till mid-August, so we won’t see each other for a while. Figured I’d better find something to keep me out of trouble for the month and a half we’ll be apart.

“I think so,” I say. “Seems like if it was a no, they’d just send an email or something.”

After a bit of research, I found out there were some available summer internships with the local chapter of another environmental protection group. It’s mostly a community outreach kind of thing, working booths at farmers markets and festivals, signing up volunteers. They’re focused on clean oceans and beaches, and educating the public about sustainable ways to enjoy marine recreation. After giving it a lot of thought over the last month—and having a lot of long talks with my super-smart girlfriend—I’ve decided that’s where my passion lies. This internship seemed like as good a step as any to figuring out how to make a career out of it.

I know Taylor didn’t mean the things she said on the Kappa lawn when she dumped me, but she wasn’t wrong. For the last few years, I haven’t had a direction outside of hockey and just going along with the path Max had set out for me. I know he only wanted to help, but I’m not him. I can’t follow in his footsteps.