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"Fuck, Autumn," he growled, surging through it even as his entire body got tight, trying to hold on until I was spent, then slamming deep, cursing out my name again as he came.
I collapsed forward into him, body trembling slightly in unexpected aftershocks, something I hadn't felt in years, something that I usually only experienced after unusually intense sex, or strong connection, or both.
"Come here," he said, when he tried for the second time to peel me off of him. This time, he yanked harder on my shirt, giving me no choice but to move. As soon as I was pressed back, he reached out, gently snagging the material of my shirt that had held me prisoner the whole time, and releasing me of it. His hand rose, finger tracing down my jaw for a moment, eyes almost reverent. "Okay, now come back here," he demanded, pulling me down toward his chest.
And, well, there was no stopping my arms from going around him, something I had wanted from the moment he put his hands on me.
His hands went out as well, one holding the back of my head gently, the other tracing sweetly up and down my spine, something that had my insides doing butterflies that I tried really hard to ignore, knowing I had a tendency to read more into things than they needed to be read into.
"Yeah," he said a couple moments later. "I'm going to want a repeat of that."
I pulled back, smiling down at him, unable to help it. On one hand, because, yeah, I wanted a repeat of that as well - about a thousand repeats of that - but also because it meant I would get to see more of him. Though I knew that was dangerous, dangerous territory when all I had told him I needed was sex and friendship.
In a way, though, that was true.
What was a relationship, after all, but sex and friendship?
This just wouldn't have the labels.
I guess I could live with that.
"I can get behind that," I agreed, then my smile went a little wicked. "Or have you get behind me. You know, whatever you prefer."
The chuckle moved through him and somehow me at the same time as he looked up at me with those bright eyes, the tension around them seeming gone for the first time since I saw him trying to get his dog to follow a command.
"Oh, I'm gonna prefer a lot of things," he promised, patting my thigh. "Lift up," he demanded softly, and I did, trying to hold back my reluctance to feel him leave me. But, well, unfortunately, safe sex had its less-than-sexy sides that needed to be dealt with.
So I lifted up and he slid out of me then out from under me, moving down the hall to find the open bathroom door.
Alone, feeling a little bit too exposed, though it wasn't in a literal way, I reached for my shirt, turning it right-side-out, and slipping into it before stretching my sore leg muscles and going in search of my panties.
Eli came out a moment later, body still relaxed - a sight I liked seeing way too much for a casual sex buddy - and came toward where I was standing in the kitchen, fetching his underwear and pants, jumping into them both simultaneously.
"Sounds like Coop needs a walk," he commented as he reached for his shirt.
Me, well, I was still pants-less, but my hands thought reaching for my wine to settle my swirling thoughts was a better idea than pulling pants back on.
"Yeah, he's not usually locked up this long," I agreed.
"Wanna shrug into something warmer and walk him with me?"
And, well, I so, so did.
More than I should have.
But that wasn't going to stop me.
We took Coop for a walk.
And it was a hell of a lot like couples would do.EIGHTEli"I'm just saying," Bobby said at my breakfast table the next day, because we were, apparently, breakfast buddies now. "I know the look of a man who got his dick wet after being locked up for a long time. You got that look. And you went out last night."
"What are you the neighborhood fucking watch?" I asked, smiling because it was so ridiculous. "Watching me out of the curtains like some little old nosy neighbor?"
"I was cleaning the fucking windows, okay?" he objected, clearly caught and trying to save face.
"Yeah, sure you were. With your fucking huff of breath and your sleeve."
"You're deflecting!" he accused, though he was clearly the one guilty of such a thing.
"Yeah, I am," I agreed, leaning back in my chair, stomach full of the hash browns and breakfast burrito he had brought me. Just a couple days out, and I was already eating better than I had six years in.
"So you did get laid! See, man, I knew it."
