“You’re really here?” he asks as he carries me past the kitchen toward the garage where we came in two days ago. He turns, and I want to look around at his house. I want him to take me room by room and tell me everything I’ve missed. “I’ll give you a tour of the house after,” he whispers as if he can read my mind. I look around his room, which is filled with just a big king-size bed and two side tables. He puts his knee down on the bed and slowly lays me down. He moves my hair away from my face. “I can watch you all day long and not get tired of it.”

My hand comes up, and I palm his cheek in my hand. “For eight years, I chased you in my dreams only to wake up before I could get to you,” I say softly, my thumb rubbing his face. “I didn’t know why, and no matter how much I forced myself to dream again, I just couldn’t get to you.”

“I’m right here, baby,” he says softly. “I’m always right here.”

“We lost eight years because of me.” I say something that I finally realized when he poured out his heart to me. “If only I had stopped and listened to you. If only I had even for a minute thought there is no way.” A tear escapes from my eye.

“Shh,” he says. “For eight years, I blocked out the love I had for you because it was too painful. My chest would feel like it was being crushed. But the minute I saw you again, it’s like it was yesterday. Everything was in front of me. Everything was right there. You were right there.”

“There hasn’t been anyone,” I say. “No one but you.” He opens his mouth, and he looks at me.

“You were my first,” he tells me, and I know we were both each other’s first, “and you are my only.” He lowers his head to mine, and the kiss takes over, our tongues finding each other. The kiss starts slow, and then suddenly, our hands roam. I won’t even deny that I start roaming first. My hands go from his shoulders to his back and then up again. His stomach dips in when I use my nails up his abs. He turns us on our side, and his hand goes to my hip, and then his hands move frantically up my shirt. He cups my breast in his hand, and I throw my head back. I finally cup his cock, and he’s ready for me. “Fuck.” He hisses when I move my hand up and down his covered cock. “Baby.” He says my name, and I push him on his back at the same time as he sits up and takes my shirt off. “God, it’s so much better than my dreams.”