AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Say that again.”
“Yes, Oscar, yes.”
I pressed into her harder, faster as she cried out my name.
She clenched around me, squeezing and pulsing. Only when I knew she was nearing the end of her release did I allow myself to find my own.
This was better than the best carnival ride. We tipped past the guard rails and careened into the dangerous unknown at a million miles an hour. I had no idea where we’d land, but all I could focus on was the fall—her sweet peachy scent, the soft noises she made, the sated smile on her face.
Everything changed monumentally, seismically. In that moment, my heart was full, and I never wanted our time together to end.
THIRTY-THREE
MORGAN
We spent all day Friday in bed having hot as bananas sex. Okay, we didn’t just do it in the bed. Every surface of our hotel room was fair game, and given we’d continue to check those surfaces off the list—table, chairs, bathroom counter—this morning, I was fairly certain my body had never been more relaxed or satisfied in my entire life. Room service. Sex. Repeat.
By the time we finally left the hotel room Saturday afternoon, my legs had a pleasant hint of jello-y feeling to them. My whole body felt lighter and more limber. A girl could get used to this.
Also, by the time we left the hotel room, half of our allotted hide-from-the-world time was already spent. It was hard to imagine returning to real life after this, so I tried not to think about it, and instead focused on the perfection of the moment.
“Are you sure you don’t want to order room service again?” Oscar whispered into my ear.
His lips brushed against my neck and I closed my eyes. I leaned my back into his chest and wrapped my arms over his, reveling in the feel of him as we rode the elevator down.
“No, I’m not sure,” I admitted. “If we never left the hotel room again, I’d be forever content.”
He kissed me again, this time lower, and nuzzled against the crook of my neck. The stubble on his chin scratched delightfully over my skin, the perfect counterpoint to the softness of his lips.
“Then why are we leaving?” he asked.
His dark voice vibrated through me, straight to my core. Whywerewe leaving? I couldn’t think of a single good reason as Oscar spread his fingers over my belly.
The doors opened, and someone stepped on with us from the lobby. And if that wasn’t sobering enough, Miso decided to take that moment to do a cartwheel against my chest in her sling.
I cleared my throat, smiled, and hurried out of the elevator.
Oscar held onto my hip and stayed with me.
Whywerewe leaving? It was hard to remember when he was touching me. “I want to show you my favorite spot in the city.”
I wanted to show him everything I liked, because I liked—really liked—him.
“I can’t wait,” Oscar said.
I grinned from ear to ear and led him outside. He was wearing another pair of jeans and a different t-shirt, this one a faded shade of green that brought out the summer field shade of his left eye.
“It’s quite a walk from here,” I said. “We should probably drive.”
“Would you like to take your car or mine?”
I’d almost completely forgotten about his car. A pinch formed in my stomach. “Show me yours.”
We strolled through the parking lot, hand-in-hand, until we stopped in front of a time-battered red sedan.
Oscar was studying my expression. “It’s not what you expected.”
“With the whole fancy suit and surprise cash, and even though I remembered the H on your key, I still expected a Porsche or something.”
