Page 24 of Tattletale

I finally close my eyes, relaxing back into the pillow as I tremble around him, bridging my hips, clenching my walls as tightly as I can. I try to hold on to the euphoric feeling of my orgasm. It’s deep and blinding, taking over my whole body, but it dissipates before I’m ready. It leaves me sweating, panting, and already eager for another round.

Lance pulls my legs together, crosses my ankles, and throws them over his right shoulder. It only takes another minute for him to find his release. He pulls out of me, finishing on my stomach and hips. Even when he’s drained, he plunges right back inside of me.

Finally spent, he collapses to the side of me. He cradles my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. A low hum escapes his lips, but he doesn’t say anything more. He must be trying to hold on to the sensation, too.

“It’s kind of sad,” I say.

“What’s sad?” He suddenly looks alarmed.

“We’ll never get a first time with each other again.”

Lance smiles. “Cricket, we’ll never have a first time withanyoneagain.” He leans down and presses his lips against mine. “I’ll never need one. I only want you.”

FIVE

LANCE

Morning light is seepingthrough a tiny sliver where the curtains don’t touch. It’s blinding. The strip traces over Cricket’s bare tits and then bores into my face. Groaning, I throw my bicep over my eyes.

Cricket tries to wiggle away, but I yank her right back into my embrace. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m hot,” she complains in a sleepy murmur.

“Deal with it, baby. Cuddling is my newest obsession.” I can’t remember the last time I slept over with a woman. And I have a very good memory. A part of me suspects I’ve never actually done it before. Because if it feels like this…why would I stop? Maybe it’s just the Cricket effect.

“How about June twenty-seventh?” I ask.

“Sure. Whatever gets you to stop talking.” Cricket tries to wiggle away again and bury her head underneath the pillow to evade the light.

I peel off the covers and walk over to the curtains, yanking them wide open. The entire room glows with the practically fluorescent morning sun. I smile, looking pleased as Cricketpops up, glaring at me with murder in her eyes. “You are a grade A asshole.”

“Vesper’s sending a pickup location for a car. We’re driving back home. We have to get going anyway.”

“It’s five hours to D.C.”

“Aww,” I tease. “Our first road trip as a couple.”

“Only one of us is making it home alive if you don’t shut those curtains,” she threatens.

“I’m too cute. You wouldn’t get rid of me.”

Her eyes shift to my morning wood, which is currently at full attention. “There are certain things about you I wouldn’t get rid of.”

I scoff, pretending to be offended. “I’m not just a meat market. I need to know you’re not marrying me for my body.” She’s silent as she lifts her brows. Suddenly, my joke seems less funny. “Right?” I prod.

She smirks. “You really want to pull at that thread, honey?”

“Where are the wives that swoon over their husbands who insisted onmaking loveto them the night before?” I make my way back to the bed.

“Probably in the nineteen fifties with the other wives who wait by the door with martinis for their husbands to come home.”

I roll my eyes at her sass.

“Oh,” she continues. “You are so sensitive. Last night was the best night of my life. And as soon as I get some coffee in me, I’m all ears about June twenty-first.”

“Twenty-seventh,” I correct. “And there’s no coffee here except for the shitty pods. So, you’ll have to hear me out, get dressed and packed, and then I’ll take you to this cute brunch place I passed last night. I bet they have great coffee.”

“Cute brunch place? Seriously? I just need a black coffee, and I wouldn’t say no to a morning cigar on the balcony.”

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