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He had the straps of her suit off her shoulders and her breast bobbing free before he set up a slow rock of his hips. He didn’t know if he could get her to come this way, but it was electrifying, and since she was squeezing him inside and rocking her hips, her back arched, hands gripping his arms, she thought so, too.

The pressure was different this way, more friction, and the edge of her suit caught the side of him and that was an extra stimulant, but everything was weightless, and he needed both hands to hold on to her.

“Could you come?”

She lay her torso back, arms wide, floating. “I don’t know. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Go on. It feels good.”

A few thrusts up while he held her hips down and that’s all it took. He came with a shout that was loud enough it could be heard on the street, and Lenny sat and wrapped around him, her face tucked into his neck, laughing.

“You needed that,” she said.

He used her wet hair to turn her face so they could kiss. He wanted to block out how much he needed that, how much he wanted Lenny to be part of the rest of his life. “Owe you one.”

She nipped his ear. “I think you’re good for it.”

He could barely move. The heat of the water, how he felt about Lenny, and the release had done him in, but he was plotting how to even the score when the door to the pool deck clanged shut. They pulled apart, Lenny fixing her suit as an enormous pink flamingo floated past on the surface of the lap pool.

“Will you let me cook for you?” she asked.

He’d let her do anything she wanted to him.

He’d let her leave.

Back in the apartment, both showered and dressed, Lenny rummaged in his fridge and pantry. He’d already suggested ordering in, but she was insistent. “The least I can do is feed you.”

The last date who’d cooked for him was…

total blank. It must’ve happened at some point, but the dates had been thin on the ground for a long time now, which is probably what made this time with Lenny feel special. It wasn’t just great sex. He was starved for honest affection. He needed to remember that. For his mental health, he needed to find a way to fill that part of his life.

Lenny hummed while she cooked steaks and tossed a salad. He set the table and did the whole fancy-cut-glass candlesticks and best silverware thing, with Sam Smith crooning as background music and an orange sunset that was a better backdrop than anything he could’ve magicked up himself. They had one more day of make-believe. One more day to pretend they were any ordinary couple going deeper with each other.

If he could break all the clocks in the world, nuke Pacific Time, Mountain Time, Central Time, and every other zone that was going to call the end to this weekend he would, to keep them in this suspended state of pleasure.

He barely noticed what the meal tasted like. He noticed everything about Lenny—the tiny scar on her cheek, the way her lips came to bow peaks, her ears neat and perfect for holding random lengths of hair away from her face. The way her eyes broadcast as much mischief as they did determination. She’d tied her damp hair up into some messy arrangement on the top of her head, pieces of it falling softly around her face in a tousled look he found impossibly seductive for all its lack of art.

Their bare feet were tangled under the table, and their conversation was tiptoeing on the edge of reality.

“Thank you for a lovely meal,” he said.

She raised her glass of wine. “For a lovely day. I feel like I’m on vacation, not twenty minutes from home.”

“The advantage is no jetlag.”

She broke eye contact. “You really think I won’t feel jetlag.”

He abandoned his seat, went to her side, and took her hand, bringing her to stand. “I think we’re both wearing rose-colored glasses.” That wasn’t his whole truth, but they’d gone deep and could both drown in the sentiment, and that wouldn’t work for Lenny.

To Sam’s “Pray,” a song about fear and hope, he led her from the table into a space away from the sharp edges of furniture and took her in his arms.

“You want to dance with me.” She leaned into his chest, winding her arms around his neck. They weren’t going to be covering much distance.

“Ever since I made sure to attend the Heroes League gala to keep you out of harm’s way and saw you in your stunning white dress.”

“What does that mean?”

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