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God help me, I wanted her again, even though I needed to get up and into the shower.
“I know we need to get up, but I was thinking...” She trailed off.
“What?” My pulse immediately kicked into high gear, even though I knew she probably just wanted me to call the front desk or go get her dress.
“I, uh.” She cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t hate, or, that is, if you were also interested—”
“Fucking tell me, Soph,” I said into her hair, feeling like every muscle in my body was coiled and waiting, straining for her to say the wordgo. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper, “to slide inside me. Right now.”
“Done.” My mouth was on her skin instantly, my hands skimming over her front while I kissed her delicate shoulder blade. She arched her back and pressed her body against me, and I was so fucking grateful the nightstand was within an arm’s reach, because I didnotwant to leave that bed.
Not even for a second.
When I did as she asked, going deep and wondering how anything could feel that fucking good, the sound she made—a gasp that morphed into a moan—set my skin on fire as she pushed back against me.
“Soph,” I managed, unsure what I was even trying to say, because the squeeze of her body made thinking impossible. Nothing in the universe mattered except for where we were joined and the deep, hot slide of our bodies together.
It went from zero to sixty in an instant, from slow and sleepy to a panting sprint that had my fingers digging into her hips and her mouth cursing like a filthy sailor.
Holyhell.
She turned onto her stomach and I followed, trailing kisses on her back as her body held me tight, the intensity going through the roof as she reared back against me and raised to her knees.
Good God, she knows her angles,I thought as I clenched my teethand grabbed her harder, pulled her closer, fighting for control as her body fucking stripped mine of everything but pleasure, of feeling anything other than her.
But as I bit down on her shoulder blade, my eyes met hers in the mirror above the refrigerator.
And I was undone.
thirty-two
Sophie
Max:I’m bored.
I smiled as I sat in the chair, waiting. My flight didn’t board for forty-five more minutes, and Max had twice as long before his did. He offered to change my flight so I could fly direct into Omaha with him instead of going through Chicago all by myself, but something about that felt weird.
Relationshippy.
We were just friends, and friends said goodbye and went on the separate flights they’d booked separately before the trip. I told him exactly that, which made him frown but quietly agree.
I was mildly obsessed with the way our friendship had changed recently. It’d happened slowly, but Max had become my favorite person. Not only did I look forward to anytime I could hang out with him, but we’d just had mind-blowingly good sex and everything was still exactly the same with us.
Who needed a relationship when you could have friendship like this?
I texted:I just left you five minutes ago. How can you be bored already? Have you even reached your gate yet?
I’d given him asee ya laterwhen we’d exited security and had to report to two separate terminals, but that had felt weird, too—for the opposite reason. It felt very strange to be allsee ya laterwith the man I’d watched doing me in a hotel mirror two hours before.
My stomach flipped over at the memory.I’d been absolutely lost in what Max was doing to my body on his king-size bed—the man was like a gifted sexual overachiever—but then I’d opened my eyes.
Watched him.
I wouldn’t normally consider myself a visual person when it came to sex. I didn’t watch porn, wasn’t into naughty pictures, and had never—God, please no—wanted to see myself on camera.
But witnessing him like that, looking like some sort of mythological sex god as he towered behind me, grimacing as if holding on to his control was the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do, had ended me.
