"It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if 
this experience can cause him only pain."

Morgan Ann Bennett

"So let me get this straight, your parents are dying so you have to go to Arizona and look after them?" Malcolm reiterated.

"DYING?!" I screamed. "I didn't say they were dying, I said they're sick. Oh, God."

I cried something terrible and blew into a tissue.

I should get an award for my acting skills.

"Okay, okay," Malcolm hushed me. "Just stop crying. Please."

I nodded, wiping the tears I forced from my eyes.

"I'm going to go, I'll be back in a few days," I let him know.

He popped two pills into his mouth and then waved me off.

"Fine," he said, getting into the bed. "I'll be in Aspen for business anyway."

"Okay!" I squealed happily, ready to dart out of the room until I realized what he said and remembered.

I slowly rotated on the heels of my feet at the front of the bedroom and asked, "What's in Aspen?"

He palmed his forehead and then curled his face, like he was in pain. "What?"

"What is in Aspen?" I questioned once again.

"Business, daring," he claimed. Bullshit. There's not that much business in the world, especially week after week for days on end so late at night. I'm not stupid.

"...Right. Good night, Malcolm."

***

"Good night, Quinny! I love you!" I gushed in the phone.

"I love you, too, squirt," my niece bubbled. Ugh, the cutest little girl ever, I didn't want to hang up ever!

"Okay, can you put Mommy on the phone?"

"Hey, what's up?" Callie spoke through her mature voice.

"Hey. Thanks again for covering for me, I know it's last minute, but I really will pay you for the days you miss!"

"No, it's okay, save your money. I needed a vacation, anyway."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Sherry mentioned a cute little hotel in Denver, and yes, it's out of Malcolm's domain. I know you don't want him seeing us. But why'd you say Mom and Dad were sick, out of all the lies you could've told?"

She made me laugh. "I don't know, Cal," I let out, feeling stupid. "but it worked, that's all that matters!"

When Teddy parked the truck outside of The Lofts at Rockville Court, I rushed Callie off of the phone.

"Okay, I gotta go, sis, but thank you again!"

"I'll see you when you get back, tell you all about Jesse?"

My face turned. "Who is Jesse?" I wondered. My first time hearing about him.

Callie just giggled. "When you get back," she emphasized.

"Alright, alright. Good night, I love you!"

"Good night, be safe. Tell Chris I said hi, and happy birthday," she beamed.

"Yeah, yeah," I hurried off of the call.

9:45pm

Eep! I internally screamed with a serious case of the jitters. I couldn't believe that in some hours, Chris and I would be off on some island. Or no, what if it's a desert? The mountains? Well, wherever, I was more than excited to travel, and just be with him.

We were in a weird place, for sure, after all that happened but the talk at the car wash broke the ice a little. Honestly, I'm surprised he invited me on his birthday trip. Really, I'm excited his hum-drum ass is going away for his birthday at all, especially without his mother. She hadn't mentioned his birthday to me, though, she could've just been too busy, or made other plans to celebrate with him when he gets back.

"Thanks, Teddy," I said as he helped me with my bags.

He slammed the trunk and gave me a hug.

"Y'all still at it, huh?" His baritone voice put out.

I smiled wide with the nod of my head.

"Um, ya, I guess so," I answered, coy.

"Stay safe, Morgan. Enjoy your time," he said, holding his fist out for me to pound and I did.

"Thanks, Theo. Good night." I called him by his real first name - Theodore.

Once I had my luggage in my hand, I entered the building and made my way up to the fifth floor.

523, 525... Ah, 527.

Knock! Knock!

I waited impatiently behind the black door, my fingers tapping against my thighs.

After thirty seconds, no answer.

My grin exchanged for a frown, discouraged, so I knocked again.

Another minute passed, Chris never came to the door.

So I just opened it. Of course it was unlocked.

I made my way inside in my pink (fuchsia) crewneck sweatshirt and matching shorts set and foam runners. It was a lot of pink, okay, my favorite color. The outfit was simple, I didn't want to do too much for the airport, just be cute and comfortable.

Chris was in the kitchen, blending something while he stared into the living room area at the flat screen smart tv.

Oh my gosh, he had this matching set on like me! It was black of course, he acts like he's allergic to other colors. I was so proud of the fact that we matched but I didn't say it out loud.

I parked my suitcase by the island and walked further inside, stopping by the sink near Chris.

"Why wasn't your door locked?" I asked the almost birthday boy once he unplugged the blender.

He shrugged in his black hoodie. "I knew you were coming."

Chris then drank his smoothie and offered me some. I denied, thinking it looked too healthy.

"You look cute," he said, looking me over.

I walked into his body and gave him a big hug.

When he hardly accepted my affection, I quickly noticed and backed off.

"You're not going to touch me again, are you?" I huffed, arms now folded angrily.

He didn't say anything.

Why am I still trying, then?

"I'm going home..." I whined, walking towards the door.

"Morgan, stop being a baby. I didn't say I'm not going to touch you, it'll just take a while. What, you only want me to have sex?" He talked at me.

I rolled my neck. "Um, yeah, like that's the whole point," I shot back.

He laughed at me and I started to, too.

"Ugh," I groaned, sulking back over to him.

"Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

He ate some green grapes which I helped myself to.

"Nope," Chris drawled.

"Well wake me up when it's time to go," I yawned, "I'm tired."

That's when an alarm went off on his phone.

"It's time to go," he said, walking around the counter to get his bags from off of the couch.

My jaw hit the floor. "What, already?! It's only ten o'clock."

"Yeah, and the flight is at twelve-fifty," Chris let me know, striding towards the door.

"In the morning?" I complained.

***

One stop in Charlotte and we arrived in Saint Lucia at about two in the afternoon.

It wasn't until we got to the airport that it was revealed where we were going.

That was also my first time in an airport ever. Chris wasn't bothered, seeming like he'd done this many times before. Me, on the other hand, I was all over the place. I asked some strangers questions, made friends with other people who were going to be on the same flight, and got Chris to take some pictures of me. They weren't great, the angles were all off, but he tried.

I thought I was going to stay up for most of the flight, excited to see everything and be in the moment, but I fell asleep almost instantly.

Chris was a good pillow, though.

I tried convincing him that we should join the mile high club, if you know what I mean, but he blew me off. Lame.

From the airport, we were transported to this breathtaking villa.

All I wanted to do was drop to my knees and let Chris fuck my face. I mean, it was stunning and what an honor that he brought me along.

"Look at the view!" I gasped, hand on my heart.

"Is it real?" I started to wonder.

Chris stood by the fence and stuck his hand out showing me that this wasn't a green screen or poster.

I had to blink several times to grasp the surreal sight. Wow.

"I'm going to look around some more," I let him know once I dropped all of my bags.

It was maybe only ten minutes later when I returned and saw Chris fast asleep on the bed.

I shook my head, laughing at him, as I approached his body.

I pecked his nose, bringing the sheet over his body because I knew he liked to sleep with a blanket no matter how hot it was, and softly said, "Happy birthday, baby."

***

"This is my favorite one of you!" I showed Chris several pictures that I took throughout the trip so far and then kept scrolling.

"Ooo," I exclaimed, shoving the screen in his face. "this is a good one, too!"

He put my phone down and blinked at me. "What happened to no phones on vacation, huh?"

I ignored him, deleting the pictures that were blurry or repetitive.

Chris snapped his fingers in my face, blocking the screen. "You said you wanted to come here, can you at least be here?" the birthday boy nagged. I made a face at him but eventually turned my phone back off after all day without it, and put it into my clutch.

There was a party on the beach, something chill, but very cute. The public had gathered around for drinks and to dance. They had me at dance.

We had gone boating, snorkeling, zip-lining, hiking, and cliff-jumping, basically done it all. I didn't have a bucket list but if I did, a lot of it would be crossed off since being here.
It was like I was living out a dream.

We were on day three, one night left. Except, I didn't want to leave St.Lucia. Like, ever.

Long days on the beach, chill people, perfect weather, and great food and drinks. Ugh, Heaven!

Besides, I was enjoying the bubble Chris and I were in, it's paradise. No distractions, no responsibilities other than each other and to have a good time, relax.

I knew as soon as we got back, we'd have to face reality. I had a decision to make and Chris stressed that it shouldn't be a hard one: to tell Malcolm I'm leaving him. The other side of that coin was to not tell Malcolm and end up losing Chris which of course I was not willing to do. I'm only scared of what Malcolm may say or do once I — we— tell him.

But I tried to not think about that.

"Then dance with me," I flirted over the slow music.

A cover band had taken to the stage. The lead singer, in a leafy button-up, seduced the crowd with his indie voice and airy runs over the sounds of the guitar and other background instruments.

Chris wasn't much of a dancer, we just rhythmically rocked back and forth, and I was more than okay with that, just happy to be in his arms.

The late breeze blew hair across my face and I let Chris push the strands behind my ear before he kissed me.

I felt warm and fuzzy on the inside. Before, I never knew what people meant by that, but I'm sure now. Chris always made me feel like that: beautiful, safe, wanted, seen.

Maybe it was the two fruity alcoholic drinks I had, the music, scenery, or just this moment, but Chris was an absolute dream as I stared up into his low eyes.

This smirk formed on his lips once he wet them.

"What?" asked Chris with a faint laugh.

"Nothing," I squeaked, pushing my ear to his hard chest, longing to hear his heart beat if I could, I was so close.

I blinked, gazing at the happy couples surrounding us who were all dancing freely and living in the moment. My heart was so full.

Why can't I have that? With Chris, and not just in stolen moments?

"What are you thinking about right now?" Chris asked me, his chin on top of my head.

When I squeezed him, Chris did the same in return, bringing us as close as humanly possible.

I traded my frown for a small smile and kept my head on his chest.

"Thanks for bringing me here," I said to him.

Chris said, "My parents and I used to travel all the time; they think it's important. I mean, it is. Ever since they got so busy with the B&B, though, they stopped."

"Why?" I asked, gently swaying side to side.

"You know them, they do everything there. Who else is gonna run it if they leave?"

I dropped my head back to peer up at Chris's face.

"You, dummy," I insisted with the smack of my lips.

"No," he quickly denied.

"Well what about when they get old?"

"Shit, hopefully they have grandkids by then 'cause I don't know," he laughed.

I didn't want to press the whole kids issue and scare Chris off, remembering how they acted when I first arrived to Penshaw with Quinn.

"Mar-bear can let me run the bed and breakfast!" I chimed happily, in love with the thought.

Chris's face said it before his voice. "Mar-bear? Y'all have nicknames?"

I laughed at his torn up facial expression for a second and then let my overthinking get the better of me.

"Chris," I sighed.

He spun me and then brought me back to his chest. I wasn't expecting that, he impressed me.

I held him tight, my fingers gripping the linen fabric of his shirt as we returned to our light slow dancing.

I gulped before saying anything. "Do you want kids? Like, ever? N-not now, of course..."

There was a prolonged pause that instantly made me regret opening my mouth.

I scared him, didn't I? I knew I shouldn't have said anything.

"Sorry," I sheepishly breathed out, letting my lips relax into a downturned state.

"Eventually," Chris finally answered.

I allowed myself to breathe again and forgive myself for bringing up children with the man I'm not even supposed to be attached to.

"I had a dream about-" he paused to chuckle.

I looked up at him with curious eyes. "About what?"

His eyes drifted away from mine but he kept this crooked smile and held my waist.

"About us, our family," Chris spit out, dropping his head like he was embarrassed.

I couldn't help that I started to grin like someone was taking my picture and told me to "say cheese."

"Awww," I melted, pouting with teary eyes. I'm sorry, that's just so cute!

I've had dreams about Chris and I, too, but they didn't involve kids; just me, him, and a lot of sex mostly - imagining my fantasies.

Everyone suddenly released their partners and began applauding the live band that had just performed the song that quickly became a new favorite of mine. I had to remember some of the lyrics so I could search it later and add it to my playlist.

I found his hands and batted my lashes at Chris. "Do you want to get out of here?"

***

My light giggles traveled throughout the bathroom of our villa.

I fed Chris another white chocolate-covered strawberry and once there was nothing but the crown, he pressed his warm, fruity lips to mine and I smiled against them.

I turned, putting my back to his chest and sipped the last of my second glass of champagne.

It was so good, I wanted another but I was dangerously flirting with the line between being buzzed and getting drunk. I didn't want to get drunk and risk not remembering our last night in paradise.

The water was the perfect temperature, soap bubbles filling the large double ended whirlpool tub. It was a huge tub, took forever to fill but I did so as Chris watched basketball in bed.

Lit candles decorated the bathroom and were carefully placed to provide just enough light and romantic atmosphere.

The full moon shone brightly through the glazed doors. I swear it was blue.
Well, whatever color it was, it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

I gave a sigh of bliss and dropped my head back onto Chris's shoulder.

Chris dripped water onto my breasts and then grabbed them in his hands.

I left my eyes closed, captured by his touch.

One of his hands dipped between my legs and I parted them further for him.

"Mmm," I moaned at the touch.

"Chris," I voiced, reaching back for his hair.

"Yeah?" His voice rasped in my ear.

"Tell me about that dream you had," I breathed. "The one about us."

He took a second to clear his throat and began story telling but never removed his fingers from my slit and I melted as he dipped a finger inside of me.

"Everything was perfect— it was a dream. Had this nice ass house, my Tesla," he listed, chuckling.

I smiled warmly and let him go on.

"We were married, had a family - some girls and a boy," Chris said, his voice trailing off.

"Aww," I cooed, curling up against his body.

"You were the perfect mother," he said before scratching his throat.

I listened to his words fade away and didn't know what to make of them.

So I turned and finally looked into his eyes. He looked distant even though his body was right against mine - spaced out.

I stretched my neck to reach his lips and he stroked the wet hair stuck my face back as the rest was in a sloppy bun on the top of my head.

Curious, I sealed my lips and turned back.
Shyly, I asked, "What else?"

Chris's fingertips grazed my goosebump ridden arms.
He cupped between my legs and pulled me onto his lap. I gasped at the sudden movement and aggression, his fingers pressing hard against my clit, the other hand grabbing the back of my neck.

Our lips broke apart and my eyes fell onto his. Missing them, I quickly reintroduced them, this time slipping my tongue through.

I was exercising my calves as I kept myself raised above his thigh, my legs shaking at his harsh touch.

I needed him so badly, feeling his hardness poking under me.

I wrapped my fingers around his cock and earned a knee jerk reaction.

Chris's eyes darkened and I took that as an invitation to go on, knowing just how he liked it.

When I tried to turn and drop to please him, Chris pushed me by my shoulders to face the other direction again.

"Morgan..." His tone was warning. I liked it.

I chewed my lip, batting my lashes at him.

"I want to feel you inside of me," I whispered, placing wet kisses along his jawline.

Chris pulled my hair, lowering my head and neck until he had full access to it, and licked me there.

"Just let me take care of you," he silenced me.

I shuddered as he kissed the same spot and sucked it. His teeth sank into my flesh and I hissed, my body tensing.

I ground my hips against his pelvis with his fingers sliding across my pussy and in and out of me.

When I found Chris's erection again, he held my wrist tight and I frowned upon realizing.

"You can't have sex with me?" I asked lowly, coming down from a high.

His face said no while his stiffness said otherwise.

When I shifted, the water flowed with the movement and splashed.

Of course. I should've known he wouldn't be ready to touch me so soon. I feel stupid.
Only, how are we going to move past this if he's disgusted by me still?

When he couldn't come up with an answer, I sucked my teeth and removed myself from the tub.

Grabbing a towel, my anger drove me to roughly and quickly dry my skin. I covered my body in one of the complimentary white robes and plopped onto the bed.

As I silently scrolled through the muted channels, I lied on my stomach and kicked my ankles, my chin in one palm.

I felt a presence behind me and suddenly was yanked to the edge of the bed by my ankles and was flipped over swiftly onto my back.

"Get off of me, Chris," I grumbled.

He smoothed his hands up my thighs and stopped under my ass to push up the robe and expose my back to him.

His lips were warm against my skin as he kissed my ass to the center of my back and then crawled to my lips.

"You know what else happened in the dream?" Chris talked deeply.

I just stared at him.

He dropped to his knees until my pussy was right in his face.

"You said you loved me."

My lips parted at his reveal.

Before I could say anything, Chris sucked hard on my clit.

I jumped upwards and cried out.

He continued flicking his tongue against my pussy and moaned.

Just as my body became suddenly too sensitive for his mouth, Chris pulled away.

I sat up to protest, my face burning with anger.

Again, there was that spaced out look on his face.

"Hey," I cooed, wrapping my legs around his torso to bring his body close again. "did I lose you?"

He looked down at me with a pained facial expression for a second and then gulped hard, coming back to himself.

"Yeah," he growled. "turn around."

I pouted, only wanting to take his cock at the back of my mouth but he wouldn't let me for once, didn't even remove my robe fully.

With no warning, Chris thrusted inside of me and I felt it deep in my gut, a hole opening in my stomach.

I winced and gripped the sheets.

When I tried reaching back for him as he ripped through me over and over, Chris forced my hands behind his back, the other hand pushing my head into the mattress.

I tried catching my breath but I was suffocating from both lust and the sheets.

This became too much all too fast, I couldn't take it, trying to squirm away but he wouldn't give.

He didn't say anything encouraging like usual, just groaned and rammed in and out of me unrelenting until I screamed.

"Okay, Chris," I barely pushed my words out. "you're hurting me."

He continued until I raised my voice and it cracked. "Chris!"

With a growl, he stopped and pushed me off of his cock, walking back to the bathroom.

I felt a throbbing between my legs and watched as he forced the door shut, scaring me when it slammed.

Usually he'd come back with a water bottle and/or a rag to clean me off at the least. So, I waited.

Only, five minutes passed and I heard the shower running.

I let more time pass. . .

Finally he exited the bathroom but shut off the lights. I looked at his hands. No water, no rag. No aftercare.

I slouched as he stomped towards me, showered and dressed for bed.

Chris shut off the lights and climbed under the covers.

Seeing what this was, I sniffled and carried myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I let the water roll onto my head to my feet as I stood in the shower, thinking way too much.

Actually, I don't think I moved or even blinked for a good three minutes.

My skin was wrinkling during a lengthy shower, but before getting out, I grabbed my wash cloth and soap again and began scrubbing every inch of my body religiously. But nothing can erase the fact that Malcolm still touched me and Chris probably never will want to again. . .