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My jaw drops. “Are you angry about that?” I ask after a few moments.
He chuckles. “No. I think it would have happened anyway.” He slips his fingers beneath my tee and touches my bare skin. “He said it’s always better to regret something you’ve done than something you haven’t.”
I lie still, and try to stay calm. “I suppose that’s true.”
“You know I’m crazy about you, don’t you?” he says.
My lips slowly curve up. “I’m crazy about you, too.”
We lie there quietly for a while as thoughts whirl around me like pieces of paper tossed into the air. Then, eventually, I lift my head.
I rest my chin on his shoulder and study his profile. His arms have loosened around me, and his breathing is deep and regular. He’s asleep, exhausted from all the nerves and emotion.
It’s always better to regret something you’ve done than something you haven’t.
Maybe our fling isn’t as over as I thought it was.
Thank you, Alan, I say in my head, and then I rest my cheek back on his shoulder and close my eyes.
*
I doze for a while—I don’t know how long, but it’s still light when I open my eyes. The sunshine has deepened to the color of honey. I lift my head to look at him, and catch my breath. His eyes are open, and he’s watching me.
He doesn’t say anything, and I lower my chin to his shoulder again and just study him.
He lifts a hand and cups my face, then brushes across my bottom lip with his thumb. I open my mouth and catch it in my teeth, close my lips around it, and suck.
His lips curve up, and his eyelids lower a fraction, his eyes taking on a sultry gleam.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, his voice like cream, smooth and rich.
My pulse speeding up, I wash my tongue over the pad of his thumb and suck again, and he shifts his hips, giving me a wry look as I spot his erection and inhale. Carefully, he extracts his thumb from my mouth, and then he places both hands on my waist and lifts me on top of him, so our faces are level.
Then he cradles my head with a hand, and brings my lips down to his.
He kisses me for a long time, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I respond with thrusts of my tongue, tipping my head to the side so I can slant my lips across his and deepen the kiss, making my heart bang against my ribs and my pulse race.
My breathing quickens, and I move my hips against his, arousing myself on his erection, and making him give an approving murmur.
I push up, and he shifts onto his back so I can straddle him. There’s not a lot of room, but I’m not complaining. I strip off my T-shirt, then take off my bra, and he fills his palms with my breasts and teases my nipples with his thumbs.
I groan and kiss him again, rocking my hips against his and moaning at the feel of his rock-hard erection pressing on my sensitive mound.
“That feels good,” I whisper, setting up a rhythm, and he matches the movement with rocks of his own, still stroking my breasts. I sigh against his lips, feeling sleepily turned on, temporarily filled with the bliss of summer, the two of us bathed in the honey sunlight, so sweet I can almost taste it.
We kiss while he strokes my back, my hair, my face, and plays with my breasts, but eventually a sense of urgency rises within me, and I push up and fumble at his track pants. He helps me out, releasing his erection from his boxers, and I pull my underwear aside and hitch up my mini skirt. Guiding him beneath me until the tip parts my folds, I sink down onto him.
We both exhale with an, “Aaahhh…” as he slides deep inside me.
“Fuck,” he says with feeling.
“That feel good, baby?” I rock my hips, driving him in and out of me.
“It feels amazing.” He cups my breasts and rubs his thumbs over my nipples. “You look so beautiful.”
I glance down at myself, seeing our bodies coated in the late sunshine, and push up his T-shirt, enjoying the sight of his glowing abs and pecs. Then I stroke my hands down his arms, admiring the sight of his tattoos painted in gold.
“You’re like an Adonis,” I whisper, thinking how gorgeous he is. “I’m so lucky.”
