“You needed my help?” I say as the door shuts.
There’s nothing romantic about this setup. This isn’t a room where you lose your mind and your clothes. The lighting is fluorescent. There’s zero A/C. So, when Faust turns to me from the door, I have this split second of indecision, wondering if we’re actually doing this. IfI’mactually doing this. Here. With him. Again. After how much it hurt last time.
But then he’s looking at me, and I am. Right here.
With him.
Again.
Faust grabs my arms, I grab his waist, and we’re kissing. He tastes like sweat and something sweet, electrolytes maybe. Smells exactly the same as he did in his bed, wound up, that night I’ve been trying very hard not to think about. So hard, in fact, that I hadn’t put together that because we’re the same height, kissing while standing up is ridiculously easy. That, or I’ve gone on autopilot.Touching him. Being touched. Getting walked backward until my calves bump against the bed.
“Do you want to—?” Faust starts, and I cut him off by pulling him down with me by his racing suit’s lapels. Are they called that? Don’t care.
“No time.” That, and I don’t want to really go through the wholeYes, I agree to this kinky sexual activitything right now. I just want whatever we had before. That white noise.
He’s straddling my lap, then pushing me back. Down onto the bed, with him on top. “Can I—?”
“Yes.”
“Stop interrupting me,” he growls.
And all of me perks up.
“You like that?” he says, scowling. “You trying to get me to make you shut up?”
My face goes red. “No.”
“You sure about that?” The knee that’s between my legs pushes up, slotting between my thighs, making me see white. “Think you’re acting like this on purpose. You want me to make you quiet again, hm? Quiet and good for me?”
Oh, fuck. That’s almost it. My eyes screw shut, though I face the wall beside the tiny bed anyway. “Maybe.”
“Now she’s shy?”
As he talks, Faust’s pulling my waist toward him, bringing us closer together and—and his thigh pushes against me. I inhale sharply. “Y’know why my pace was off today? You’re my lucky charm. Can’t score if you’re not in my bed.”
That idea is electricity.His.I curl my fingers in his hair, feeling his tattoo. There’s one rough spot beneath the silk, where the horseshoe’s ink is a bit higher.
“There she is,” he says approvingly, rocking our bodies together, his knee, that spot between my legs he’s still able to find. “Good. Take what you want. Think you can come like this for me?”
“Mmhm.” We’ve barely done anything, but I’m very wet and very shaky and I didn’t know how hot it would be to have a man’s clothed knee against me, factually speaking. We don’t have that much time, either. Two minutes, tops, before someone notices that he’s gone missing.
“I think so, too. I think you want to ride me.”
Pressure ripples down my spine as Faust works me against him, the rigid press of his leg rubbing against me, over and over, less precise than fingers, but somehow just as good. “Don’t you want me to—to touch you?” I say, already a mess.
“No.”
“But…”
“Not yet.”
“Please?”
“When I walk out there, in front of those cameras, I’m going to be fucked-up over you, Arcadia. But not that fucked-up. So be a good girl and come on my thigh before I have to go. Let me see the one thing that bastard never will—your pretty little mouth making that pretty little pout when you come.”
Oh.
Oh, I’m so fucked.
