Page 120 of Liar's Point

He leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth and suddenly it was too much, and she cried out and came apart. He gripped her hips and kept going through wave after wave, and then he made a final, shuddering push and collapsed.

For a moment she just lay beneath him, absorbing the solid weight of his body. Then he pushed himself up.

“You okay?”

She closed her eyes and made a little rasp.

He pulled out and rolled onto his back, dropping his arm over his eyes. “Fuck.”

Nicole melted into the bed—a puddle of relief and pleasure. She wasn’t sure she could speak. The aftershocks pulsed through her, but she still couldn’t quite believe it had happened.

She turned to look over at him. He stared up at her ceiling, arms at his sides now, and she studied his profile.

He looked at her. An endless beat passed as she tried to think of what to say.

Then he smiled slightly. He sat up and got out of bed, and she watched him, overcome with awe as he crossed her bedroom in the dark. He disappeared down the hallway, and when he came back a few minutes later, he had her crutches. He propped them against the nightstand.

“You need anything?” he asked, reaching for his jeans.

He was leaving.

A cold feeling swept over her, and she realized she was utterly unprepared for how shitty this would feel. She sat up and reached for the sheet.

“I’m good,” she said, tucking it under her arms.

He dug his wallet out of his pocket and put it on the nightstand.

Oh. So... maybe he wasn’t leaving? Maybe he was just putting the condoms by the bed?

He lifted the sheet and slid in beside her, and the pang of hurt from three seconds ago dissolved completely.

God, she was a mess already.

She sat up on her elbow, her head still spinning as she stared at him in the dimness. How had this happened tonight, of all nights? When he’d showed up at her door, she’d been spitting mad. Now her body felt charged, and every nerve ending seemed to be singing with glee.

Of course Emmet would be good at sex. Why was she surprised? He was a natural athlete, and he was good at reading people. What she hadn’t expected was the way he watched her so closely the whole time, every move, as though her response truly mattered to him.

He lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that look?”

She bit her lip. Then she traced her finger down his front. “Again.”

He laughed. “Right now?”

She nodded.

“You have to give me a minute.”

He pulled her down and settled her beside him, tucking her head against his chest in a way that put a little ache inside her. His skin was damp from exertion, and she closed her eyes and reveled in it.

“You need a pain pill?” he asked.

“I’m not taking them.” She stroked her finger down his chest, over his six-pack abs, then back up again. “They make my brain muddled.” She looked up at him. “I don’t want to make impulsive and ill-advised decisions.”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Too late.”

His tone was joking, but there was some truth in the words.

She shifted on the bed and tweaked her ankle. “Ouch.”

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