Page 116 of Elevator Pitch

“Lucky me,” I jest.

“No. Lucky me.” His mouth is back on mine as I tug at his length, squeezing him harder, like he likes it. His fingers fumble with the jersey I wear.

“I thought you liked me in this,” I remind him against his mouth.

“I’d like you better out of it.”

I push him back until his back hits the opposite wall. Then, I remove the jersey myself, slowly revealing my body to him and letting the material fall to the floor with his towel and my rain jacket. I kick off my flip-flops and lower my jeans all while Ross watches me, biting the side of his fist. Eyes roam over me like I’m a precious jewel.

Standing before him in only my bra and underwear, we stare at one another for a second.

I shiver, both from his inspection and the coolness lingering in the hall from the rainy air outside.

Then Ross crosses the hall again, mouth crushing mine. The kiss says everything. He wants me as much as I want him. I’m his. He’s mine. Us. Together.

Falling against the wall behind me once more, Ross kisses down my body, lowering to one knee. He props up my foot on his thigh, opening me up to him. Then his face is between my legs and my hands comb back his wet hair. His mouth is warm. His tongue thick, and quickly he finds that nub that triggers everything inside me to come undone.

He licks me with broad strokes and sharp flicks until I shatter, crying out his name in the dark entryway. Like fireworks exploding after a homerun. I revel in every starburst and explosion.

Ross lights up my life.

As I feel my knees giving up and the orgasm subsides, I cup the sides of his head, lifting his chin so he faces me. Then I lean down and kiss him again, swirling my tongue into his mouth, tasting me on him. Marking him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he mutters against me before standing, his knees cracking as he does. The hardwood must not have been comfortable.

I fist Ross again, stroking his thick length, teasing the head. I shift him and lift my leg, hooking it around his hip, guiding Ross where I want him go. He bends his knees a bit, lining us up and swipes through my slickness, but our heights won’t allow us to finish the act against a wall.

“Condoms are in my room,” he admits, still dragging through wet folds, teasing me, tempting us to go bare, right here in his hall.

I press at his shoulder, moving him back while I take his hand. Then I lead him up the staircase to his room.

When we reach his room, I climb up on the bed, scoot to the middle and wait as he opens the nightstand drawer for what we need. Once covered, Ross reaches for my ankles and tugs me back to the edge of the bed, my legs dangling off the sides as he stands in front of me. He leans down, one arm bracing him over me while his other hand guides his thick length to line up with my entrance once more. He strokes through my slickness, regaining hardness before he easily glides into me.

“Apology accepted,” he grunts as he fills me to the hilt.

And I take a breath, as if I’d been holding mine since I walked into his house.

Keeping himself braced over me, he rolls his hips, the strength in his legs moving him in and out of me. He alternates between watching his entrance into me and looking at my face.

I only stare at him. His eyes are bright in the low light of his room. His smile is more of a smirk, but he looks happy.

Apology accepted.

Handing over my heart to him isn’t going to be difficult.

Chapter 34

[Vee]

For a week, Ross and I continue in a pattern of showing up at one or the other’s place and spending the night after heated moments. His dining room table. My living room couch. But afterward, we end up in bed together.

I don’t know that I’ve ever been happier. Ross is an attentive lover but also a great listener, and he lets me hash out some plotline details with him, offering perspective. From a man’s point of view, he says.

He surprised me one morning by arriving at a local coffee shop I frequent that has a calming tea I like, cutting into my writing time. The surprise visit was worth every minute we spent together.

Another time, Ross brought the tea to me at my place. He kissed me hard and too quick, and then left me to work my writing magic.

And one morning, he even had the calming tea delivered to his place, when I stayed to write in his kitchen, where inspiration always hits.