I twist my lips a little into a crooked smirk, tilting my head for a second before I say, “Because of my own shit luck that every table was taken.”
He laughs, and he moves toward me and hooks his arm around my waist to haul me closer to him. I set my hands on his chest as I peek up at him. He’s tall. I’m around five feet, four inches tall. He’s got close to a foot on me. Six-three or four, maybe. It’s hot as fuck.
Our eyes connect for a few heated seconds. I revel in this feeling, this sort of bliss in the anticipation of what’s to come here between us in the next few minutes.
He bends down toward me again, but his lips don’t brush mine sweetly at first this time. Instead, his lips capture mine and hold me captive. It’s deep and intense straight away this time, as if we’re continuing the intensity from where we left off out in the hall. I wonder if we do get to experience this again whether it’ll be this intense every time.
I may never know.
I’ll probably never know. It’s not even worth thinking about.
Instead, I bury myself in the moment. I memorize every stroke of his tongue against mine. When he pulls from my mouth to trail his lips down my neck, I breathe him in, the scent both fresh and rugged at the same time, like soap and mint and whiskey all at once. It’s masculine and sexy.
His lips move back to mine, and I tangle my fingers in that light brown hair I’ve been studying all night. The strands are soft between my fingertips, and he tightens his hold on me as he slips his fingertips beneath my shirt, hisbig hand warm and rough from batting, fielding, and throwing as it moves along the smooth skin of my back.
He groans as he pushes his hips toward me, and he pulls back from our kiss so he can rasp in my ear, “You feel so good.” His other hand moves under my shirt, too, as he takes my earlobe between his lips and sucks there while I shiver under him.
“Mm,” I moan, my hips swaying, rubbing against the front of his shorts as I reach under his shirt, too. His skin is warm and tight, and my fingertips trace the strong muscles beneath the surface.
His mouth moves back to mine, and he’s taking his time, kissing me slowly, deeply. Connecting with me when this was never meant for connection.
I guess nobody said we can’t exchange numbers when it’s all over, but I’m still trying hard to keep my expectations based in reality. It’s quite the feat considering all of this feels like a dream.
He pulls back from me, and he looks as desperate as I feel.
“I didn’t bring condoms,” he confesses, andshit, neither did I.
I didn’t come here expecting a hookup, especially not on night one.
“I didn’t either.” I clear my throat as I back up out of his arms. “Are you, um…you know…” I nod awkwardly toward his cock.
“Yes. I am. I get regular checkups, but I don’t sleep around.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling a pulse of relief at that, though I’m not sure why. “I don’t, either.”
“Are you on the pill?” he asks.
I shake my head, and he seems a little relieved by that. “No, but I should be fine based on where I am in my cycle.”
“Do you want to chance it?” he asks.
“I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name, if that’s what you’re asking.”
His eyes darken at my words, and then a lightbulb seems to go off over his head. “Wait, I know where I might be able to get one.” He fishes his phone out of his jeans, and he walks over to the table. He picks up a card and taps something out on his phone.
“Where?” I ask.
“Why don’t you get naked and let me handle it?” he suggests, and I can’t help but laugh. I wait until he appears to have finished typing his response before I speak.
“I’d rather not be naked if someone’s going to show up at the door.”
“Oh, right. Okay, well, then we’ll wait.” His eyes are hot on me as he walks back over toward me and takes me in his arms. He stares down at me as if he’s having trouble coming to terms with whether or not this is real, and I can definitely relate. He lowers his head and presses his lips to mine, and we’re interrupted a moment later by a knock at the door.
“That was fast,” I say as he reluctantly pulls out of my arms to answer the door.
“Perks of floor twenty-six,” he says with a wink, and then he turns and opens the door.
A man stands there with a basket. “Good evening, sir,” he says, and he’s doing his best not to peek into the room at me. I could’ve probably been sprawled out naked, and this dude is so well trained to be discreet that he wouldn’t have even looked. “I’ve prepared a wide selection of options along with additional personal items if you’d like to choose which—”
