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“Maybe.” She gently eased out of his hold. “Ready to head back?”
He let his hands fall to his sides. “Sure.”
“Are you staying in your room tonight or creeping into Sydney’s?” She stood on tiptoe and mimicked what he assumed was him sneaking into Sydney’s room.
“You look like a Dr. Seuss character,” he said.
She mimed turning back covers. “Hmm, what do we have here?Sydney? Naked?”
“Ayesha?” He tried, and failed, to rein in a massive grin. “You better run.”
* * *
He waited until everyone turned in for the night, tossed his legs over the side of his bed, and headed to Sydney’s room.
But he neither crept nor tiptoed.
He knocked softly. “Syd?”
“Come in,” she said.
He entered the room, quietly shut the door, and climbed into the bed behind her. As he went to wrap his arms around her, she flipped over and faced him.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back. “You looked beautiful today.”
She thrust her fingers through his hair, which she knew was his weakness. It didn’t matter if he was tired or his mood was off. All it usually took was her fingers stroking his scalp to change his mind.
Since that first night at her apartment, if they were together, she wanted to spend ninety-five percent of that time with him inside her.
Had this been a new relationship, it would have been a wonderful arrangement, but things between them were supposed to be deeper than this. The sex was fine on its own, but when layered with intimacy, it was outstanding.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, Syd,” his cock twitched, “but what if we didn’t have sex tonight? I miss holding you. Being close to you.”
“You can hold me with your dick inside me.”
He didn’t answer, needing close to all his focus to keep an erection from popping up and bringing this argument to an abrupt end.
She removed her hand from his hair. “Okay.”
“Rain check?” he asked.
“Rain check.”
“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. “Now, tell me about how things are going with the foundation. You guys are in D.C., New York, and California now. Where’s the next—Syd, wait.”
She closed her fingers around his cock. “Joel Lattimore, you are so damn good-looking.”
“Syd, I want to talk to you. I miss talk—”
She squeezed.
Instinctively, he thrust into her grip.
“We haven’t spent any time together alone, outside of having sex, since we signed those papers,” he tried again. “As much as I’d love to fuck you, and you know I do, I miss you, Sydney.”
She stroked.
