“Oh, baby, you have no idea what you’re asking for.” I pick her up by her thighs and turn us, pushing her hard against the bedroom wall. The painting hanging right next to us rattles with the movement, but I could not give a shit, because her pussy is warm against my cock and I can’t focus on anything else. “Can you feel that? Can you feel how hard you make me?”
She garbles something unintelligible and I devour it with my mouth, swallowing all her sounds before she can protest. “Please,” she says against my mouth, and my heart starts hammering in my chest and it’s the only thing I can hear.
I rock against her a few more times, then turn us again and traipse through the room, walking around the stuff on the floor—my shoes, her purse, a pair of sunglasses that must be hers and have fallen at some point. I’m moving fast, urgently, because I need to be inside her before thislustfor her consumes me.
I drop her on the bed and she yelps but it’s followed with loud laughter, like she’s finally here, with me, and enjoying herself.
“What’s so funny, baby?” I say as I unbutton my shirt. She’s studying me with those intense eyes, her gaze moving from my shoulders to my arms, studying all those lines I have collected over the years, meaningful drawings that show a lot of who I am. I’ve got a lot of stories on my skin, most of them half-finished, but she looks at them like they make sense.
“Nothing,” she says, then laughs softly and drapes her forearm across her face. The sound isn’t forced but rather more like a nervous laugh, a little breathless. “I just… I’m a thirty-eight-year-old divorced woman hooking up on vacation and it feels so strange. I haven’t done this in over a decade.”
I grin, leaning against the bed, in between her splayed thighs. “You’re thirty-eight?”
She lowers her arm just enough to peek at me, one eyebrow raised. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” I say quickly. I’m surprised she’s the age she says she is, but mostly, I’m surprised someone let her go. From what I’ve gotten to know, she seems amazing and anyone would be a fucking fool. “It’s hot, actually.”
That earns me a small smile. “God, you’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” I admit, shrugging. “But I like that you know what you want. Most people spend their whole lives trying to figure that part out.”
“I hardly know what I want, Ben.” Her smile softens, eyes darting away. “What about you?”
I pause, searching for the truth instead of the easy answer. “I know what I want, too. I’m just not always good at admitting it.”
She studies me for a beat. “And what do you want right now?”
“You,” I say simply, crawling up to her and kissing her lips. I suck on her bottom lip and she moans. My hands start moving more urgently, sliding up her stomach and under her shirt, and pulling it over her head so that I can see more of her skin. I throwit somewhere and I don’t care where it lands. “Take your pants off, now.”
For a second, I just look at her as she moves. The rise and fall of her chest. The way her hair fans out against the crisp white pillow when she lays back down. The faint crease between her brows, like she’s not sure she’s allowed to let go.
I want to devour her, yes, but not just her body. I want to know what she looks like when she stops guarding every thought. I want to memorize the sound she makes when she finally lets herself feel everything instead of keeping it neat and measured.
Because the truth is, I’m tired of pretending this kind of connection doesn’t matter. I want this—here, her, now—because it’s the first thing in a long time that feels real.
“Are you ready?” I whisper into her ear, rubbing the head of my dick up and down over her panties. She’s so warm, so wet, and I’m tempted to simply slip in and fuck her like this. But I won’t because I have manners and she deserves more. “How about I make you come with my tongue first, Sunshine? And then I’ll fuck you senseless just like I promised I would.”
Sol mutters something and closes her eyes. Her hands are holding on tightly to the bedspread below her, like she’s holding on for dear life, and that makes my cock jump. I stand, slowly removing my pants and boxer briefs and taking my time admiring her on the bed, pulse stuttering and an even flush running through her skin.
“Is this crazy?” she whispers into the air as I’m kneeling on the floor. I pull her towards me and start dragging her panties all the way down and onto the floor beside me, joining the pile of discarded clothes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
CHAPTER 11
SOL
Morning fades in slowly,like the light is deciding whether to commit coming in at full force or not. Ben’s arm is heavy across my waist, his palm warm and slightly sweaty where it rests under my ribs. He’s awake; I can tell by the way his breathing keeps catching, like he’s trying not to move and wake me.
“I can hear you thinking,” I say into the pillow.
“That’s impossible, Sunshine,” he mumbles. I feel his lips on the crown of my hair and my body reacts to his proximity in a way that has me all confused. “There’s nothing in here before I have my coffee.”
I turn, shifting until my nose is at his collarbone. He smells like salt and sweat and the citrus body wash the hotel stocks in tiny bottles in the showers. His stubble is darker today, and it makes him look like a man on vacation—carefree and joyful and young. So fucking young.
When I look up, his eyes are open, blue and clear in the pale light.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Thirty-three,” he says. “You?”
