Page 66 of You Had Me at Hockey

“Wanna make you come,” he rasps.

He slides a hand down and around, under my belly, and finds my clit. His touch jolts a live current through me. This, this, this…it’s what I want…what I need…“Yes,” I whimper. “Please, yes…” I reach down and guide his hand a bit lower…“There! Oh God!”

My orgasm twists inside me, tighter and tighter, then it fractures into a million pieces of light dispersing through me, making me shudder and jerk and wail.

Shaking, I fall to the bed. My hips ache and I slowly stretch my legs out straight on the bed. Josh is still inside me, not moving. Then he slowly slides his legs outside of mine, his hair-rough skin scuffing over mine. He holds himself above me on one arm, nuzzling my hair as I try to catch my breath and stop shaking.

He rocks his pelvis against mine, his lower belly pressing on my ass. “Okay?”

“Yes…”

He shifts his knees higher, outside my hips, giving him better leverage, and his thrusts grow deeper. I think I’m still coming, quivering, my inner muscles clutching at him, and then he shouts and goes tense and still against my butt. I push my ass back at him as he pulses inside me, low groans sounding near my ear.

Later, under the covers, I curl into him and sniff his neck, breathing in his scent, clean with a hint of musky sandalwood. I pull it into my lungs and hold it there, then I lick his collarbone and the hollow of his throat. I’m full of emotion, my heart swollen with it. I’m not sure if sex is always supposed to be like this. But maybe that’s why it’s so powerful and essential and transcendent.

Or maybe it’s Josh. And that’s unnerving.

Chapter 18

Sara

On Wednesday, I pack up my laptop and go over to Josh’s new apartment. It’s easy to get to, in a nice neighborhood near Lincoln Center. I enter the newish high-rise and stop to introduce myself to the doorman, whose name is Javier. I tell him we’re moving in today (saying “we” deliberately so he knows I belong there) then ride the elevator up to the fifteenth floor.

I walk into the empty apartment and sweep my gaze around. It’s nice…shiny hardwood floors throughout, floor-to-ceiling windows with a fabulous view across the Hudson River (much nicer than my view), and a gorgeous kitchen. But it’s white. White, white, white. I guess with furniture and some décor, it won’t look so boring.

I set up my field office in a corner of the living room where there’s an outlet for my computer and phone. Then I explore a bit more, checking out the two bedrooms and bathrooms. Also very nice.

About half an hour later I get a text from the movers. Josh gave them my number. I go downstairs, where they’re waiting with Javier, who directs them to the loading area and freight elevator at the rear of the building.

As I head back upstairs, a woman is waiting at the elevators, holding a cute black dog. I smile at them and she says, “So Josh Heller is moving in today?”

Shit. She must have overheard us talking. What if she’s a creepy stalker? What am I supposed to say?

“It’s okay!” she says. “My boyfriend plays with Josh for the Bears. Easton Millar.”

“Oh!” Relief washes through me. “Yes, moving in today.”

We step into the elevator and the doors glide closed.

“I’m Lilly. And this is Otis.” She extends a hand to me and we manage to shake despite her holding Otis.

“I’m Sara. Nice to meet you.”

“Are you Josh’s girlfriend? I thought I heard that you two broke up when he left Dallas.”

I blink. Girlfriend in Dallas? “Uh…no…”

But what am I, exactly? His fuck buddy? His slam piece? That’s more accurate.

“Oh my God.” Lilly’s eyes widen. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, smiling. “No, no, it’s fine.”

The doors slide open and Lilly jumps out. “This is me! I’m sure we’ll see you again!”

I force a bright smile and hold my hand up in a wave goodbye.

Then I slump against the wall. Josh had a girlfriend in Dallas? Huh.

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