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Breaking Even

By:C.M. Owens

I bought things that make me think of you.

Really glad I didn’t open this before. I would have melted and begged him to take me back. Then we might not be in this new place where a future is possible between us.

“You’re crying,” he says with a frown.

“They’re not bad tears this time,” I say, smiling at him as he shifts and kisses me sweetly on the lips.

I pull away and peel back the tissue paper, and I burst out laughing at the simple white cotton panties that rest on the top layer.

“Really?”

He shrugs as his grin grows. “They suit you. And I love you the way you are. Everything is always different, fun, and sexy in an entirely new way. These damn things shouldn’t be sexy, but you looked so fucking good that night you were letting me pull those shorts off you for the first time.”

Those words... He really does love me, and he’s saying it aloud. I never thought it would happen. I keep expecting to wake up and realize this was all a torturous nightmare.

I smile and return my attention to the present, trying not to show how completely excited I am over something so simple. Then I pull out a white sundress. I grin bigger as I look at him, and he shrugs in response. On the next layer, there’s a bottle of food coloring, and I laugh.

Under that are several other things. There’s a Camry keychain hooked to a Porsche keychain, and I grin while I continue snickering. The box of baking soda and bottle of Febreeze makes me chuckle louder, and he pulls me to him.

“I was trying to make you play with me. I was pretty damn desperate.”

I smile up at him, and put the things aside. Then I wrap my arms around him while he falls to his back, dragging me down with him.

“I’m glad I didn’t open it. We wouldn’t be here right now if I had. We’d be in the loop your father warned me about.”

He tilts his head in confusion, and I realize he apparently hasn’t talked to his dad about our visit, so I try to elaborate without all the details.

“I would have played. You wouldn’t have ever thought of anything more with me,” I say to clarify.

His eyes soften, and he presses his lips against mine.

“Then I’m glad you didn’t open it.”

I push my hips back, slowly sliding down on him, impaling myself, and feeling the full, stretching sensation moments before that metal bar does that divine thing of touching a place that has never felt so stimulated before him.

Ruined. He’s ruined me forever, and I love it.

When I rock my hips, he groans. Each breath exchanged is a new breath of a freedom I never thought I could feel.

And he’s mine.

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