Page 44 of Love and Loathing

“Oh fuck,” Evie gasped. “I’m going to…”

“Do it.”

“No.”

He lifted his head, breathing a laugh. “Whyever not?”

“Because I can’t come twice, I never do. And don’t say that sounds like a challenge. I mean it. I want to come with you…in me.”

“Fair enough,” he said simply and flipped her onto her stomach, hauling her ass into the air with his hands on her hips. “Face to the mattress, Evie.”

And then he was inside her, all of him, all at once. She grunted, a breathless moan.

“You said from behind,” he reminded her, almost incoherent himself at the sudden sensation.Fuck, fuck…He rocked into her hard. She felt fucking glorious, gripping every inch of him, the white spine curving away from him, the perfect back. He moved into her harder, chasing his release, fucking her desperately, with her moaning her pleasure into the mattress, letting him take her, helpless on the end of his cock, quaking around it as she came with a cry.

“Fuck,” he said. “Evie. Evie…”

And that’s how he came, breathing her name.

NINETEEN

“Well that’s one ofthe menu items ticked off,” said Evie after a long time of lying still and quiet next to each other on her bed. They had both needed to get their breath back, find their minds, come to terms with this new reality of just having done that—been those things to each other. And Evie was nowhere near as calm and collected as her quip made her sound.

Her body had stopped trembling, but her insides were still going, a strange, almost painful feeling in her chest, that, if it reminded her of anything, was like that overpowering sense she got when she climbed to the viewpoint, looked out on the whole world, and felt wrecked by the wonder of it all.

She felt small. And embarrassed. And frightened. And she also wanted to reach out, pull Aubrey over her, kiss him, let his big body swamp hers, cover it with skin and muscle and warmth. She wanted the pleasure of him again. She wanted to be told what to do. Filthier things this time. She wanted to taste him.

But she lay there, shy, and looked up at the ceiling.

Aubrey went to the bathroom. Then she followed suit and did the same. When she came back, he was sitting up in her bed, the covers pulled to his waist.

“Shall I sleep here?” he said. “You can kick me out if you want.”

“Is that what usually happens? When you have all your meaningless sex with all your beautiful women?”

“I normally leave before they can suggest either.”

She got into the bed and pulled the covers up to her neck, lying on her side. Aubrey reached out and tugged them back off.

“Unless you’re cold?”

“No.”

“Then I’d like to look at you.”

“There’s not much to see.”

He answered that with a roll of his eyes, then shifted her arm so that he could see her breasts. He stroked the back of a finger along the side and skimmed a fingernail over her nipple. Everything tightened inside, though she bit back her gasp, not letting Aubrey see how easily he affected her. How responsive she was. Though that horse had already bolted.

He was following the path of his finger anyway, not looking at her face. So she let herself study him, the jaw and mouth and eyes that were already familiar, and the new things: the muscles of his shoulder, the light scattering of hair on his chest, the line of collarbone and the hollow of his throat.

“What else was on the menu?” he asked.

“Don’t men of your age need a long break in between? A few days, perhaps?”

In reply, he rolled her onto her stomach and smacked her lightly on the backside. “I suddenly remembered this one,” he said.

He was only playing, but Evie swallowed back her grunt of pleasure, heat sharp and sudden between her legs. She definitely had issues.

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