The speed at which Hamilton shares our goodbyes thrills me. The anticipation of returning to our hotel room has built in me all evening. While I look forward to our alone time tonight, I know it means our goodbye tomorrow morning draws closer.
The girls giggle at Hamilton’s urgency to leave the reception. I wish them all a happy Valentine’s Day in hopes they’ll remember it’s our first as a couple.
As we wait for the elevator, Salem, Latham, Bethany, and Troy join us. I’m happy that, like us, they plan to enjoy tonight with no children. We make polite conversation with the other couples as we attempt to keep our hands and mouths off one another. The sexual tension is heavy inside the tiny compartment as it climbs.
When the ping signals our floor, we say our goodbyes to our friends before race-walking to our room. Hamilton doesn’t chase me as he did earlier today; I’m disappointed when his hands remain in his trouser pockets while I unlock our door.
At the closing of the hotel door and the click of the lock, however, the air turns electric. I stand, frozen in his gaze. While riotous hormones hum through my veins, the weight of tonight enters my thoughts. It’s our first Valentine’s Day together. It’s my first Valentine’s Day with Hamilton or any guy for that matter. Tomorrow, I will drop my husband off at the airport for spring training. Forty-five days of Hamilton in Mesa, Arizona while Liberty and I are in Chicago. We plan to visit him in 10 days, but it’s only for two nights. Tonight, is my last night with him, I plan to make it memorable.
I lower the zipper to my dress to my shoulder blades. Hamilton’s molten, brown eyes devour my exposed collar bones. My skin heats, and my pulse quickens. I lower the zipper a few more inches down my back; then, I slip it from my shoulders. It quickly pools at my feet.
My skin prickles as the cool air bathes me. My right hand reaches to unfasten my bra, but he halts me; in two long strides, he’s inches from me. Every part of me seeks contact with every part of him. His eyes scorch mine. When my tongue darts out to wet my lips, he pounces.
Immediately, his lips mash to mine, his hands are everywhere, and I’m totally naked.
“On the bed,” he commands while removing his clothes.
I pull the comforter from the bed before laying on my back. My eyes take in the fine specimen of the man that I call my husband.
On all fours, Hamilton creeps up my body. Hovering above me, his eyes latch on mine.
“I love you,” he huskily whispers.
I open my mouth to reply, but his mouth distracts me.
We’re guttural moans, flailing limbs, groping hands, and shallow breaths as our bodies join, pushing us toward climax.
Struggling to catch my breath, I lie in post-orgasmic bliss as Hamilton enters the bathroom. I barely make out the sound of the shower over my breathing before he returns.
Taking my hand in his, he pulls me from bed and into the shower. I mew while his strong fingers massage my scalp, while he washes my hair under the warm spray.
Lost in my relaxation, I fail to notice Hamilton soap his hands and trail over my shoulders. As he caresses my breasts, I spark to life. The man pushes all of my buttons in the very best ways. Our shower turns hot, steamy, and sensual.
When we pour ourselves into bed, I fall asleep as soon as my head finds the pillow.
When the Sunday morning sunlight slips between the drapes, I fight the tears stinging my eyes. I mentally remind myself not to cry until I’ve dropped Hamilton off. I need to be strong for him.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, pulling me tight to his chest.
“Mmm…” I moan, soaking in his warmth. “I love you.”
He places a kiss upon the skin behind my ear. We hold each other without a word, dreading the next hour. I groan when Hamilton reaches to check the time on his phone.
“I need to shower, babe,” he says.
I nod. Exhausted from our Valentine’s celebrations last night, I decide to skip the shower. I drag my feet as I dress then pack my suitcase.
Emerging from the bathroom freshly showered and looking fine, Hamilton wraps his arms around my waist as he places closed-mouth kisses upon my nose and lips.
Without words, we communicate our reluctance to say goodbye.
I turn on the hazard lights when I park at the curb of the airport terminal. I hop from the driver’s seat, meeting Hamilton on the sidewalk. I’m not supposed to leave the vehicle when dropping him off, but I don’t care.
Hamilton’s tired, chocolate eyes look down at me. I lick my lower lip before pulling it between my teeth.
“Ten days...” His voice cracks.
“Ten sleeps,” I confirm, pasting a fake smile upon my face. “I love you. Text me when you land.”
His warm, firm lips smother mine. Although we don’t use tongues, it’s one of the hottest kisses I’ve ever experienced. Too soon, he pulls away.
“I love you. Drive careful,” he says, tapping his index finger to the tip of my nose.
With a baggage handler walking towards us, I wave before hustling back inside the vehicle. My heart is a heavy, burning weight in my chest. My sinuses sting as tears fill my eyes. I pull away from the curb, starting the long drive back to the farm.
An hour into the drive, I exit the interstate, preparing to drive on the slower, two-lane road the remainder of the trip. Checking it’s clear, I pull from the stop sign onto the highway. As I barely accelerate, the SUV tires slip in the slick snow that’s accumulated. I swiftly try to gain control as I fishtail a bit, breathing a sigh of relief when the car is moving safely again.
I note the dash shows it’s 33 degrees outside as the precipitation continues to fall. The drizzle I’d driven through on the interstate turns more dangerous.
“Call Memphis,” I command the car.
“Calling Memphis,” the female voice confirms.
“Hello,” her sweet voice greets on the second ring.
“Hi,” I return, keeping most of my attention on driving. “I’m calling to let you know that I just turned onto Highway 6, and it’s going to take me longer than normal.”
“Slick?” Memphis asks I can hear concern in her voice.
“Yes, so I’m taking it slow.” I confirm.
“Should you pull over and wait until the highway department treats the road?” she asks in her mom tone.
“I don’t think it’s that bad. I’ll just slow down,” I promise.
“Okay,” Memphis says. “I’ll let you go so you can focus.”
The call disconnects, and I return all my focus to the driving conditions as my stress level rises.
Memphis and Liberty greet me at the door upon my safe arrival at the farm.
“You made it,” Memphis cheers as my daughter claps.
“I could use a stiff drink,” I inform her as I enter the kitchen. “I barely drove 40 miles-per-hour.”
“Well, you can’t relax with wine; how about a warm bath?” she suggests.
I shake my head; I only want to spend time with Liberty to distract my thoughts from already missing Hamilton.
“They’ve changed the forecast again,” Memphis informs me later that afternoon.
I look at her phone as she scrolls through the next 24hours. Heavy snowfall with blowing snow is now in the forecast.
“Mind if we stay a couple more days?” I ask.
“Of course not.”
Twenty-four hours and six inches of snow later, the road-grader plows the gravel road leading to town. Latham cleared the lane earlier this morning, so we’d be ready to head to town when the main road was cleared.
Memphis plans to remain with Liberty while I drive to town to see my girls and pick up groceries. After assuring her the SUV has four-wheel drive, I promise I’ll return prior to dark before she’s okay with my expedition.