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We’re not done yet.
“Come here, Sin.” She walks forward, her feet dragging the ground.
Too damn slow for me.
When she is within reach, I grab her and toss her on the bed.
It’s my turn to be quick. Before she can recover from her gasp of surprise, I push that wet thong once more to the side, and sheathing myself to the hilt in her warm flesh, I pump away for all I’m worth.
Chapter Twelve
The Last from the Past
Genesis
Royceputshisbagin the back of the rental car and slips inside the front passenger seat. Within moments, I have us on the freeway. I tune Sirius to the 70s radio station I like, and hum along to Barry White’sMy First My Last My Everything.
Royce turns the volume down a notch. “Why do you listen to this music?”
“Number one, never touch the radio when I’m driving. And number two,thisis music. Songs from the 70s and 80s are where it is at. I love the heart in the rhythm and the lyrics… you can hear the soul of the singer in every word—“
His laugh is long and loud. “Sin... it’s like you’re ninety sometimes.”
I move my gaze from the road to give him the side-eye. My parents turned me onto this music when I was a kid, and I’ve liked it ever since. It speaks to me in a way my generation’s music doesn’t. “Shut up and listen.”
He does as I ask. Soon, his fingers drum out the rhythm on his thigh and his head moves to the beat.
“Yeah, okay. This song is good,” he agrees when the music ends.
I smirk. “I know it is.”
We talk as the next song plays, Janis Ian’sSeventeen.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you… damn, what were the lyrics again?” He puts a finger to his chin, tapping that square jaw that I’d run my tongue over as he hovered a fingertip above me. His hips thrusting against mine with a delicious purpose…
I shudder, remembering how hard he made me come.
I still can’t get over the fact I said I loved him. I’m still wondering if I actually meant it. Only time will tell, I suppose. One thing I know is that I will miss him these next few days, that’s for sure.
“Yeah, I remember…not the lyrics, but it was about a guy who loved this woman, but she loved someone else. It was some sort of ballad…da die dum…” he hums in his deep voice.
I sigh in satisfaction, wondering how just hearing him speak makes me feel all sorts of emotions.
I name a few songs and sing their melodies. None are from the song he is thinking of. Finally, I sing a few phrases ofDiaryby Bread and he snaps his fingers, his eyes shining. “Yeah! That’s it.”
He turns off the radio. “Sing it for me, will you?”
I do, only faltering when he places a large hand on my thigh, rubbing his palm over my goose bumped flesh.
“You have a great voice, Sin.”
Nothing compared to yours.
I would have said that out loud, but suddenly I’m shy, andveryemotional.
Damn. Even the tears are coming.
I blink them back as I turn into the airport.
