Page 163 of Range
“You gone make a nigga nut all up in this shit.”
He sent me over the edge. My hands were no longer on his shoulders. I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him closely.
Up.
Down.
“Fuck, baby.”
Josiah gripped my neck and brought his lips to mine. Beneath me, he began thrusting, drilling into my well.
“Siaaaaaaaaah.”
I gushed for him. I came for him. I called for him. No longer was he unable to hear me. He was too close. Too real. Too much.
I rubbedthe blurriness from my eyes. Darkness coated the space around me. Night had fallen. And the sounds of nature in my background confirmed my suspicions.
I was not alone.
And I was not dreaming.
Not earlier.
Not now.
With a tender canal, I slid out of bed. My bladder was begging for relief. It came swiftly, as I sat on the toilet. My body was free of clothing. My mind was free of worries. All bad things had been laid to rest.
I emerged from the bathroom after carefully cleaning myself. Through my bedroom, I sauntered in the direction my heart was leading me. A cream dress awaited me, just before the glass doors of the balcony. I slipped it on, feeling like an island princess of some kind.
It was loose. Flowy. Breathable. And strappy.
I brushed my hand through my wild tresses. On the tips of my toes, I made my way out onto the balcony. Tea candles lit the dark path.
Around the balcony.
Down the stairs.
Into the warm sand.
And there he stood, hunched over the dinnerware with an index finger slipping from his mouth. He nodded, approving the taste of the dish in front of him.
“Can I have some, perhaps?”
His smile illuminated the night. Those precious brows. Those perfect teeth. Those perfect lips.
He was dressed in shorts and a button-down. It was a far cry from the government-issued uniform. His hair was trimmed and lined with precision. He was glowing.
“You look stunning,” I called out to him, standing feet away.
His cheeks fattened. A hand went over his mouth as he turned his head slightly, causing me to miss that beautiful smile.
“And, so, he blushes.”
He straightened his posture and placed both hands in front of him. He linked them in the center of his body and shrugged his softened shoulders. He was not alarmed. He was not on high alert. He was in love. I could see it in his eyes. His posture. His smile.
“It’s pretty damn hard not to when you have the woman of your dreams standing in front of you… free and comforted by your presence when thirty-something hours ago, you werebetween walls that wouldn’t bend enough to accommodate the love you had growing for her.”
It was my turn to smile. But I didn’t turn away. I allowed the peak of my vulnerability to display on my face. I didn’t run. I didn’t hide. I didn’t cower. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I’d second-guessed our connection since it had begun. But my heart wasn’t a liar. Neither was my logic. And neither was my intuition. I’d found my husband. I knew it the first day I saw him.
