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Then, he does it again, causing me to ride him harder, searching for deeper penetration. He circles his thumb around my clit, and I arch my back, grasping his thighs for dear life, as a flame of heat sparks pleasurable vibrations through my fast-pumping blood.
I whimper softly.
“Evelyn,” he breathes.
At the sound of my name, a blazing fire erupts under my skin, and I quiver uncontrollably for what feels like an eternity.
When my breathing slows, I lean forward and kiss his lips in gratitude for the unbelievable orgasm. He kisses me twice, rolls us so that I’m on my back, and then positions his arms under my own, propping himself up on his elbows.
Foster thrusts into me—hard, heavy, intentional, and with extreme ferocity. I grip his shoulders and dig my fingers into his skin, in the midst of our primal act. It doesn’t take too long before his body takes on a familiar pace. He pants in a distinguishable tempo, his muscles tense. Then, he enters me a final time with a guttural force, releasing a satisfactory long grunt.
Relaxing my body while Foster rests in a satiated stupor, I savor the feel of his nakedness over my own, covered in perspiration and fulfillment. He lifts his head from the crook of my neck, and I place my hand in his line of sight for a high five, which has become somewhat customary after we finish our bang-o-thons.
Between labored rasps, he presses his warm lips into my waiting palm and then collapses over me once again.
I tentatively slide my hands around his back.
He returns the gesture, narrowing his embrace, until the only sound remaining is our hearts beating in unison against each other’s chests.
We remain still.
We breathe.
We hold each other.
Then, the phone blares my mother’s ringtone into the comfortable moment.
It’s early, too early for anyone to be calling, so it must be important.
“I should get that,” I mutter, squirming underneath Foster’s weight.
He releases me from his grasp, rolling over and off of me. Sitting up, I reach toward the bedside table and grab my cell.
“Hello?” I say groggily, faking as if her call awoke me.
“Evelyn,” she says firmly, “it’s your mother.”
“Yes, I gathered that from the caller ID.”
Foster rises from the mattress, points into the hall, and mouths,I’m going to use the bathroom.
I nod my head and pull the sheet up over my breasts as he exits the room.
“Evelyn…” my mother summons. “Did you hear me?”
“Sorry.” I wipe my palm across my brow, trying to get into the character of a sleepy college student, not one that just had her brains fucked out for breakfast. “I’m not really awake.”
“Typical. Well, I was calling because I heard some news this morning, and I thought you would like to know.”
“What’s that?”
“Sophia Beauchamp called, announcing that her son just got engaged. You could imagine my excitement when I heard this.”
I clamp my lids tight, exhaling the building tension. “I know.”
“You know what?”
“About Gerard. At Christmas, he told me he was going to propose.”
