Breath of Fire Page 6

  “Are you sure?” I asked, crawling towards him. When I straddled his face, he inhaled me with wild appreciation.

  “I’m sure I want to fuck that mouth while I tongue this perfect clit of yours, Olivia.”

  He swiped his tongue just where I wanted it.

  “Sage,” I cried out. His palm rang down on my ass.

  “I didn’t tell you to stop.” With zeal, I lowered myself back down to his cock and took him between my lips. And Sage danced his perfect tongue against my clit in a maddening pattern. Long, slow licks. Fast darts. Teasing lips. I sucked Sage’s cock and made hungry, slippery sounds, the position feeling extra dirty, extra illicit.

  Sage and I had discovered the 69 position a few months before we’d lost our virginity to each other, and a reel of hot, teenaged memories flooded my system as Sage sucked on my clit. I’d always gotten off on the sensation of fucking his face, grinding my hips across his mouth. Using my hot-as-fuck boyfriend like my favorite sex toy.

  With a frustrated growl, Sage tipped us onto our sides, grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his face. He thrust between my lips, taking my mouth, chasing his own pleasure. I knew what he wanted: us to climax together. Sage spread my ass cheeks, slipping one finger between my folds, and one pressing against my ass.

  “Oh fuck,” I gasped, letting him go as my head fell back. It was so good — so good — and as a wave of pleasure ripped through my body, I took Sage’s cock as deep as I could. I came with a scream around Sage’s flesh, shaking, wailing. And Sage spilled his release with a harsh grunt of satisfaction.

  I swallowed every last drop with a smile.

  “How often,” Sage panted, “do you want me to sit for you?”

  I laughed, crawling up to lay next to my yoga god. He was flushed, sweating, and appeared stress-free.

  “It’ll take me a few weeks, maybe months…maybe even years to get it just right,” I shrugged. “We might have to do this every day.”

  “Every single day?” Sage arched a brow. Gave me his tell-tale crooked grin. “I guess that’s the kind of sacrifices we’ll have to make for your art.”

  I hooked a leg over his waist, keeping him close. “This is why I love you.”

  Sage kissed each and every finger. Then my palm. Then my wrists. Laid his head right against my heart. “And this is why I love you.”

  BONUS EPILOGUE #2

  One year later

  SAGE

  I had never worked harder on anything in my entire life. Eighteen months to the day from when Olivia and I had jumped off that cliff together laughing into the sunlight, I was opening a nonprofit yoga studio in Playa Vieja.

  We had classes for students of all different abilities, free classes on Fridays, outreach programs at homeless shelters, and weekly classes in schools and prisons.

  It was everything I’d ever envisioned yoga to truly be.

  And Olivia was the reason for all of it.

  I stood in front of our building — which featured a large mural of a sunrise on one side, painted by my girlfriend — and grinned into the small crowd. My parents were there, as were Olivia’s parents. Finn and Avery stood off to one side, beaming with their arms wrapped around each other and a happy dog at their feet. Behind all of them winked the aquamarine waves, dotted with white seagulls.

  And immediately in front of me, barefoot in a peach sundress, was Olivia.

  “I can’t even begin to express how deeply grateful I am for all of you,” I said, feeling the weight of the scissors in my right hand. “This couldn’t have happened without your donations, your time, your support. To Finn and Avery, our best friends – the financial support from the Bella View Hotel is the reason why we’re opening our doors today.”

  Finn flashed a shaggy grin and kissed a laughing Avery on the cheek.

  “To my parents, Olivia’s parents, and everyone else: you painted rooms and brought us food and made flyers and built our website and wrote articles about us in the local paper.” My heart felt too big for my chest, throat tight with emotion. “Every act of kindness was felt deeply and had a true impact. Thank you.”

  The breeze fluttered through Olivia’s long hair. “And to Liv.” I stopped, attempting to rein in the massive swell of love rising in my body. “I’m so happy my mom took all of those prom photos to show to our grandchildren. I love you even more today than I did when we were fifteen.”

  I reflexively reached into my pocket, feeling the ring. But even though this could have been the right time…I waited.

  I love you, mouthed Olivia.

  I grinned back at her, lifting the scissors. Avery’s mom had sent garlands of hibiscus from Hawaii, which we’d hung in front of the doors like a ribbon. I snipped, and the magenta petals fell softly to the ground.

  Olivia whooped, and the crowd cheered.

  The doors of Paradise Yoga officially opened.

  Inside, the reception area was a gentle green color, filled with plants. Each colorful curtain opened into another room, each with its own Olivia mural: the planets, a forest, the beach.

  A goddess, reaching forward in warrior pose, exhaling a breath of fire.

  Olivia walked up and gave me a hot, hard kiss that made me blush.

  “Let’s celebrate,” she winked. And that’s how an afternoon reception slowly transformed into a classic Playa Vieja beach party — everyone dancing barefoot in the sand, eating tacos, toasting with champagne. All the old surfers dropped by and even some tourists. Kids ran in and out of the studio, jumping on the yoga mats and cartwheeling through the studio.

  Finn turned on some classic reggae and slow-danced with Avery, whispering secrets into her ear.

  Olivia never let go of my hand.

  The ring burned in my pocket as the hours ticked by, and every time I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her raven hair, I felt compelled to sink to one knee and declare my undying love. I’d felt this way since the morning we’d woken on the beach together – utterly ready to commit right then and there, forever and ever with my cliff-jumping mermaid.

  But I continued to wait until the very last person finally left. And the music stopped, and the lights dimmed, and suddenly it was just Olivia and I staring at the night ocean from the open doors of a yoga room. I wrapped my arms around her waist, lips against her neck. We inhaled in sync. Exhaled.

  “Did you like your party, Sage McAllister?” she asked sleepily.

  “It was perfect,” I said. “You’re perfect.”

  Olivia turned, pressed her lips to my cheek. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

  The sea-breeze lifted the strands of her hair, bringing the scent of Playa Vieja, of salt and sand and sunscreen. I held her dark gaze, saw Olivia at fifteen. Olivia now. The years of memories that stretched before us. I loved this woman more than life itself.

  My right knee dropped to the floor.

  Olivia’s hands flew to her mouth.

  “Sage.” Her voice was fraught with emotion.

  “Olivia Rose Nguyen,” I said, slipping the ring from my pocket. It was a simple rose-gold ban with a delicate opal stone. “When I was fifteen years old, I saw you stay late after art class, sketching something that had captured your imagination. You had charcoal smeared on your cheek and pencils stuck in your hair, and the only thing that mattered to you was the image blossoming on your sketch pad.” I swallowed. “That was the moment I fell in love with you.”

  “Sage,” she said again, eyes filling with tears.

  “When you were sixteen years old, I watched you bandage your little brother’s knee, when he’d tumbled from your tree house. You were so patient with him, so kind. When you were seventeen, you out-surfed me every single day for an entire year, laughing in the waves like a bad-ass, utterly fearless.” I took her left finger, kissed it. “When you were eighteen, we had sex for the first time, and I’d never seen anything more beautiful in this world than the look on your face the morning after. The serenity, the peace, like you knew all along we�
�d end up here.” I kissed her palm as a tear slid down her cheek.

  “When you were twenty-four years old, you walked into my yoga class and changed my entire life. And I will be forever grateful for you, gently guiding me toward my most longed-for dreams.”

  I pressed my forehead to her stomach, gathering my emotions. Her hands sifted through my hair.

  “I’ve been carrying this ring around for eighteen months,” I admitted, lifting my head up. “Because you are my future, Olivia Nguyen. You are my future wife, the mother of our future children, my soul mate until I take my last breath.”

  Olivia dropped to her knees, pressing our faces together. Her hands were fumbling down my shirt, pushing it down my shoulders. Her mouth landed on my chest, right over my heart. I grinned, feeling her tug down my shorts.

  This fucking woman.

  “Can I tell you what I picture when I think about our marriage?” I whispered, shuddering as her tongue danced down my rib cage. With practiced movements, she lifted her dress over her head and pushed me to the ground. Black hair curtained around my face as her mouth descended on mine, claiming my lips, tasting my tongue.

  “Tell me,” she urged, the first real words she’d spoken. Her lips tasted like tears. I groaned, back arching, as Olivia slowly lowered herself onto my cock. Hair tumbled down her back. She reached behind her, unhooking her bra. I cupped her bare breasts immediately, so full and perfect in my hands.

  “Loving each other,” I said, as Olivia began to ride me. “Challenging each other. You being able to make gorgeous art every goddamn day that you want.” I tumbled her over on the studio floor. “Filling that Victorian with kids and dogs and cats and whatever else you want.”

  “Chocolate…peanut butter…oh fuck…brownies,” she panted with a sly grin. I laughed hoarsely, sucking her nipple into my hungry mouth.

  “I want…” she sobbed. “I want…”

  I drove between her legs, her slick heat gripping me tight. I knew how Olivia needed to be fucked, knew what she needed. Her body’s desires were mine, one and the same, always together.

  “Like this?” I asked, finding her clit. She wailed, clutching my shoulders.

  “Yes, but also…” another cry, “I want to make you happy Sage. I want…I want you to have the life that you want.”

  “With you,” I promised, gripping her face, “with you, that’s all I need.”

  She flipped me again, flat on my back, and ground against my cock. She rode me with sinuous hips and cries of pleasure, our bodies slamming together in the quiet of the studio. I sat up, gripping her ass. Took the entirety of her breast into my mouth.

  “God Sage yes,” she groaned. Her fingernails bit at my back, legs wrapped tightly. I licked and pulled and sucked at the sensitive tip until she was screaming. With a hard flex, I drove up into her clenching pussy. “Yes oh god yes, yes I’ll marry you…” she gasped and laughed. I rolled my hips again. “Just…like…yes, marriage, you, yes forever.”

  I growled against her throat and bounced her up and down, loving the sound of yes falling from those gorgeous lips. I gripped her face with both of my hands and kissed her, licking into her mouth, tasting champagne.

  “I need you to come for me, Olivia,” I commanded. With a grunt, I flipped her one final time and spread her knees as wide as they could go. She arched her back and took every rough thrust that I gave her, entwining our fingers together on the floor. Olivia was chanting my name now, pussy slick, and I angled my hips to hit against her clit.

  That was all it took for Olivia to scream and scream a forceful, shuddering, life-changing release. My climax was right behind hers, stealing every ounce of my breath and darkening the edges of my vision. I could only groan I love you against her hair as I finished, smoothing the strands, kissing her cheek streaked with tears.

  A happy, glorious moment passed as we both lightly floated back down to the earth.

  “So…best proposal of all time?” I offered, grinning up at her when she sat up.

  “You mean when you asked me to marry you and then I fucked you?”

  I sat up, pulling her against me. “Technically, we fucked before I got to that part.”

  She bit her full lip, eyes on mine. “You can keep going now.”

  I laughed, picking up the delicate ring. I grasped Olivia’s hand, and slowly slid it down her ring finger.

  “Olivia Nguyen,” I said again, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Yes,” she said, tears spilling from her cheeks. “Yes, I will.”

  We didn’t get up from the floor of my new yoga studio for a long, long time after that.

  BONUS EPILOGUE #3

  Three years later

  OLIVIA

  Luna Mai Nguyen-McAllister rushed into this world four weeks early and in a record-setting labor of thirty-two minutes.

  It was beyond lucky that our midwife had been at the house performing a routine check-up; she’d calmly guided me through the pain as Sage held my hand and told me I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. My husband had chanted it like a mantra, stroking my hair, massaging my lower back, tempting me with brownies.

  And then out popped Luna Mai with a head full of curly dark hair and a scream like a banshee.

  Seven hours later — after check-ups, a doctor’s visit, a flurry of happy grandparents and her first feeding — I lay exhausted in our bed.

  And watched Sage McAllister hold our tiny baby girl against his bare chest.

  A fist closed around my throat as he pressed a kiss to her soft, newborn head. Looked up and met my eyes.

  His were shining.

  “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, Olivia,” he said hoarsely, “but nothing prepared me for how much I would love our daughter.”

  She mewled, nuzzling against his skin. He inhaled. “Why does she smell so good?”

  I smiled sleepily. “I don’t know why, but I can’t stop smelling her either. Does that make us weirdos?”

  “I think that makes us new parents.” He grinned that same crooked smile that had won me over the night he’d escorted me to Homecoming. I’d loved Sage for more than fifteen years now. My love felt like the jacarandas that curved along the walls of our house stretching towards the sun, ever-growing, ever-changing, always bright.

  My husband stood up, walked barefoot to our bed, and stretched out next to me with Luna cuddled between us. We’d added a big deck to our back bedroom that faced the beach of Playa Vieja, and now the doors swung open and our gauzy curtains fluttered in the sea breeze.

  Luna was going to be a child of the sea, a barefoot-in-the-sand baby. A boardwalk-summer-girl with hair as wild as her heart. I could feel it in her already: her artistic spirit, her dancing limbs. Luna Mai would be all the best of Sage and I combined.

  “When can she start doing yoga?” Sage asked, lips in my hair. I laughed softly, watched in awe as Luna curled her tiny finger around mine.

  “Tomorrow, probably,” I said. “She’ll be doing hand-stands in no time.”

  Sage’s studio, Paradise Yoga, had thrived over the past three years, adding a second studio a few miles down the street. Sage had a different kind of celebrity now, and students flocked to his classes in droves. Every year he’d been able to add more programs, more outreach, more free yoga for those who needed it the most.

  The murals I’d done for Sage’s studio had caught the eye of Playa Vieja’s mayor, and she’d hired me to lead the town’s Public Arts Commission. I spent a lot of time painting murals now – and a lot of time hiring new artists to create magnificent sculptures all across our funky beach town.

  “When can I put a paintbrush in her hand?” I stroked the tip of my finger along Luna’s curly hair.

  “Any day now,” Sage said. “This goddess-in-training will probably be painting while doing yoga at the same time.”

  “Or she’ll end up a corporate banker,” I teased.

  “And she’ll be the best corporate banker in the world.”
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  I danced my fingers along the hard muscle of Sage’s side, his stomach, up his chest. Beneath my palm, his heart beat rapidly in time with mine.

  “Do you miss it?” I asked softly.

  “What?” Sage kissed my palm, kissed Luna’s head.

  “Being the Sage McAllister. Merchandise and celebrity followers and studio waiting lists?”

  “Not even a little,” he replied. “It feels like…another world. Another life-time. A part of me that’s so distant I can’t even truly remember it.”

  “You were on the cover of magazines,” I said with an arched brow. “That was pretty incredible.”

  “More incredible than this, though?” He kissed my left finger, missing my wedding rings because my fingers had swollen so much. “Or this?” Luna yawned against Sage’s chest.

  “Nothing is more incredible than this,” I agreed. “I’m really, really happy we both came home, Sage.”

  Sage cupped my cheek, pressed the sweetest kiss to my lips. “You convinced me to jump that day, Liv. I was terrified but also exhilarated. You have made this entire journey exhilarating.”

  The tiniest green roots of creative inspiration were unfurling in my brain, and I knew, much later, I’d be painting the two of us leaping into the sea, hands clasped and hearts open. Our version of paradise wasn’t perfect — it was hard work and scary choices and vulnerability.

  It was also authentic. Truthful. Beautiful. Who Sage and I truly were.

  “Luna’s going to grow up very loved,” I said. Sage hugged me close. An hour later, Luna woke us up with a cry, demanding to be fed, the first of many sleepless nights with our baby girl. But for that hour, my husband and I curled around our daughter as the sounds of Playa Vieja filled our home, singing us to sleep.

  THE END (again!)

  Did you enjoy BREATH OF FIRE? This short story is also available in audiobook – for free! – on the Read Me Romance podcast hosted by authors Tessa Bailey and Alexa Riley. The podcast delivers free, professionally narrated romance audiobooks every week. You can find more information (including the BREATH OF FIRE episodes) by clicking here.