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“Yeah, well tell him not to get too attached,” I muttered and tilted my head back.
“Babe, you’re covered in my favorite flavor.” He was licking the crumbs from my chest. “This is better than whipped cream.”
“I don’t know what you’re doing,” I said primly, even as I was giving him better access to the space under my ear. I really liked it when he kissed me there. “You just said that this thing is over. We should be getting up and finding a laundromat in town so we can clean these sheets.”
“No, we have tonight and tomorrow. We don’t have to be back in Portland until Monday morning. By my count, I can probably get about six or seven more orgasms out of you before then.”
He lifted his head and looked at me. The easy charm was gone. There was only Dillon, with all his intensity, his fierceness. I realized in that moment this wasn’t easy for him either. He was in deeper than he wanted to be, too.
It was oddly comforting.
“I don’t want you to forget me,” he said. “I don’t want to be that hockey player you had a hot weekend with that one time. I want you to remember this. Remember me.”
I cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, and you are—?”
“Jerk,” he said, then he kissed me, with his whole mouth and tongue and I forgot everything else for now.
* * *
The Calico Cove Laundromat
Sunday, Midnight
Liv
“You show me yours,”I said.
We were sitting side by side in two chairs, watching the sheets we’d pulled off the bed tumble in the dryer. We still needed to sleep on them tonight when we got back to our place over the bookstore, but at least it wouldn’t appear to Annie, the nice bookstore lady who had rented me the cozy apartment, that I’d been having Dorito orgies over the weekend.
“You show me yours first,” he countered.
“Why?” I grumbled.
“Same reason you want me to show you my stuff first. Because you think going last means you win. It doesn’t.”
I hated how well he knew me.
How well I knew him.
Officially, thisthing, whatever it was, whatever it had been, was over on Monday. We were both cool with that decision.
Except he was going to get his wish.
I wasn’t going to forget him.
I could never.
“Fine.” I got my phone out and went to YouTube. I shifted a little on the hard seat. My lady parts were feeling every bit of yesterday and today. When we’d finally left the apartment, I was surprised I could still walk.
But no one complained about achy post sex lady parts when the sex was so insane. The cost of doing amazing business with Dillon Le Coeur.
Dillon, sensing my discomfort, pulled me off the hard chair and into his lap. His thighs weren’t much softer than the chair, but sitting in his lap, with my legs dangling over his right thigh, I was definitely more comfortable.
Or maybe it was just because I was touching him again. We’d been connected for forty-eight hours. My leg over his. His hand on my shoulder. His arms wrapped around me. Whether he was inside me, or just holding my hand while we ate Chinese takeout, it didn’t matter. We were touching.
I didn’t consider myself a touchy-feely person. But touching this guy was my jam.
“Okay, you promise not to make fun of Brian’s costume?”
