with him. I’m somewhat surprised he’s kept him all these years, since he really can be obnoxious. And Lionel doesn’t put up with obnoxious from anyone.”
“People do interesting things to keep the memories of loved ones close. My dad actually keeps my granddad’s—his dad’s—ashes in this huge, cheap trophy he had them sealed into. It was a thing he won when he was, like, twelve years old. But his dad had coached his team that year and it had been the thing that had brought them close after my grandmother died. So that’s where my grandfather is spending eternity.” She smiled, and looked a little embarrassed about sharing something so personal and, perhaps, unusual.
He moved closer, bumping her knees apart and stepping between her thighs. He took the flashlight from her, flicked it off, and tossed it to the carpeted floor beside the bed. “You know,” he said, “there is another reason I have no regrets about not pursuing things when Aunt Tru was alive.” He took her hands in his, and lifted them up.
“Why is that?” Emma asked, her voice trembling just the slightest bit. But the look in her eyes wasn’t one of trepidation. It was one of anticipation.
Which made Trevor smile. “Because then I wouldn’t be here. On this stormy night.” He kissed the back of her hands, then pressed them to the bed beside her legs, and started scooting her backwards, climbing right up with her, and over her. “Finding you.” They reached the pillows and he pinned her hands beside her head, lowering his body to hers, until they both groaned in satisfaction at the perfect fit of his hips between hers. “And discovering that, maybe, I’ve been right in pursuing my own life. Because what’s really important isn’t where you came from…but what you do with who you are.” He nipped the point of her chin, then at her bottom lip. “But I’m thinking now that I stopped short of the real goal.”
“What goal?”
“Of figuring out the rest, which is that it’s all fine and well to find yourself, create and pursue your own path, and stick with what works for you and let go of what doesn’t.” He grinned then, and looked into those sparkling, direct, honest eyes. “But, it’s not entirely complete until you find someone to share yourself with, and maybe leave something behind when you go, that makes other people smile.” He kissed her then, tenderly. “Like you did, talking about your dad and granddad.”
“And like you do, talking about Aunt Trudy.”
“Yeah…like that.”
She leaned up this time, and tugged her fingers free so she could hold onto his face and kiss him, taking his mouth, staking her claim, making her stand. Her kisses were passionate and strong, like her body presently moving beneath him.
He drove his fingers into her hair, taking in return, tangling his tongue with hers, his groans mixing with her gasps. He moved his hips against hers as she lifted them off the bed, moving beneath him, with him.
“This is a little insane, you know,” she panted when he reared back suddenly and tugged off his shirt. She worked just as feverishly to divest herself of her clothes, too. “I just met you.”
It should have been comical, their frantic disrobing. It certainly wasn’t the slow, tantalizing unveiling of her for the first time he’d have liked for them both to indulge in. “I know,” he said. “But I feel like I’ve already waited a lifetime for you.” He kicked free of his shoes, shucked his pants, helped her tug off her own. “You are so beautiful, and there will be many times in the future where I will pay rapt attention to every inch of your lovely body—some, perhaps, with more detailed focus than others—but right now—”
“I know,” she said, and all but yanked him on top of her.
He grinned. “Did I tell you how much I like that you’re not a fragile flower?”
She rolled him to his back, and he sat up and pulled her legs around his hips. The flickering fire behind her made the tips of her curls appear as if they were glowing embers. “My very own Vesta.”
She twined her arms around his neck and started to tease him with kisses along the side of his neck.
“You,” he said, as he pushed her backward, making her squeal in delight, while keeping her legs twined over his hips as he lowered himself slowly between her legs, “are going to drive me delightfully insane.” He