Beth is a planner. When she has to make a choice she does her homework. She preps and plans. Her Black Friday shopping map, case in point. But there's no calendar or bullet journal that could have prepared her for this moment. Standing across from Rio in her bedroom with mismatched socks. She hadn't planned it. She's just moving, fast then faster, before anything catches up with her.
This is a mistake but all she can think is one more time. Put on new Beth one more time before throwing that skin away. One more moment just for her. This is a choice. And Beth chooses her children. Always. She is a mom. Always.
So this is her goodbye, a thank you. Creating a memory, then erasing it. Closing one door, opening another. It's selfish, a sacrifice. It's wanting someone, something, but walking away.
She'll end it quickly, coldly before any feelings get hurt. Even though it's already too late. But she'll tuck the ache in between her ribs, under the shadow of her heart.
Beth usually dodges Rio, brushes him off, deflects. But he won't let her. Not this time. There's always so much in the balance with them, but this is something different, something more. His own fluttering chest lets him know this is not the same. So he let her joke about Chardonnay. Giggle about bread. She's adorable when she giggles. He let her walk him into her bedroom. Close the door out of habit. Because he feels what she feels. He wants what she wants. But every inch, every breath, every second between them is up to her.
He's been hard on her. He needs to be. He can't afford messes. But they are magnets, drawn to each other. They are mirrors, reflecting back the best parts of each other so both of them are whole. Beth is stronger because of him. Rio is kinder with her.
So he waits, his eyes roaming her body, back up to her face. Beth takes three shy steps towards him. He matches them, meeting her at the end of the bed. Her blue eyes are bright, shimmering. He inhales that familiar hint of orange that comes from her shampoo, gently brushes her hair off her face. He leans in, just barely, asking her to finish what she's started.
Her lips part, the world slows and she kisses him. Tentatively on his lower lip, then again. Still he waits.
Beth closes her eyes and commits this exact moment to memory. Rio's taste, his soft barely demanding lips, the quiet little hitch in his breath. She's never taken anyone's breath away before.
Rio watches, heart pounding, and waits. Until her eyes open, fix on his, and what he sees is so….intense and raw. She's looking at him the same way as that night in her dining room when she didn't pull the trigger. That night she broke down in exhaustion. That night in the bathroom when she wordlessly showed him what she wanted, how she wanted it. That night when she cried for her daughter. She's revealing her truth. She looks hungry, ready, wanting. He licks his lips. She tastes the same way.
He bursts forward with energy and heat, pulling her towards him, kissing her hard, fast and greedy. He's a scorching wave, but Beth wants to savor this. They're on opposite sides of time in this moment. For Beth, this is the ending. For Rio, a beginning. So she slows him down with her lips, light pressure on his shoulders.
Kissing him is more devastating than she could have ever imagined, and Beth gets lost in it. They crash into each other, bounce apart, and then come back. Just as it has been with them since day one.
Beth doesn't know what to do with her hands until they clutch at his shoulders, cup his face, brush against his stubble, instinctively trace his tattoo. They feel at home there. Desperate for more, she separates to unbutton his shirt. But this time Rio changes the pace, pulls her back into a long kiss. He already knows what it's like to be fast and hard with her. He wants more than that.
They're kissing, touching, tasting, feeling, caressing. Breathing grows fast, fingers grip harder, kisses layer on top of kisses. Everything becomes harder, deeper, wetter. Clothes are yanked off in a haze of desire and wild neediness as they fall onto the bed.
Beth's hands roam the hard skin of his body, starving for the feel of him. Rio lets his body be her playground, even though he sees the invisible imprints she's leaving on him, the pieces of him she's rubbing off.
He shifts on top of her, his hand sliding down her stomach, moving lower. His fingers trail tantalizing circles across her body, teasing her. His mouth retrace his fingers, his bristles tickling her smooth skin. He nibbles her thighs until she's squirming, moves between her until she's wrapping her legs around his head, until she's crying out in bliss.
He slides inside her, not even giving her time to come down before he is thrusting, caressing, taking, giving, making her feel more and more. He takes his time with slow, deep, hard strokes. When he quickens the pace, it's fast, but not frantic. Intense but not out of control. When release comes it's a beautiful explosion. Her nails dig into him, her back arches, her entire body shudders, lights up in places she didn't know were inside her. It's all Rio needs for his own fevered climax to tear through him.
Their cheeks touch as they lay tangled up together. Both of their bodies limp, sweaty. Neither of them want this moment to end. Beth wants him one more time. Rio wants her over and over. So time stops as they learn about each other in new ways, new positions, new rhythms. They devour each other. Get drunk on each other. They learn what makes each other moan, and sigh, and beg for more. They learn what makes pleasure course through their veins, jump between their bodies. Rio learns that Beth can come from just his fingers. Beth learns that Rio likes a lot of tongue.
It ends with them snuggled against each other, Rio stroking her hair, Beth tracing the letters of his name on his arm. It feels fantastic. Perfect, actually. Beth allows herself to stay like that with him for just one more minute.
