How to Honeymoon Alone

by Olivia Hayle

His fingers tap a slow rhythm on my hip. “Tess kept pushing me to tell her why I was moving.” “Did she?” “Yeah. She’s like a bloodhound when she can scent a secret.” I scoot closer to him, tilting my hips up. “And did you? Tell her?” Phillip smirks. “Yeah. Eventually.” “Oh.” “She was surprised at first and then not surprised at all. ‘When you least expect it,’ she said, ‘that’s when you find it.’” My breath catches. “Yeah. I have to say, I didn’t expect to meet you on my honeymoon trip.” He chuckles. “Neither did I, baby.” “But I’m glad I did.” “Me, too,” he says softly. His hand brushes over my stomach, but it doesn’t move lower. I tilt my hips up again. “Touch me,” I say. He chuckles. “Bossy, aren’t you?” “I’m getting there,” I say, and it’s the truth. With Phillip, nothing is off-limits. No conversation topic, no joke, and nothing I might want to explore. He’s there for all of it, giving just as well as me. It’s the kind of freedom I’ve never experienced.