Page 107 of Hotter in the Hamptons

His lips parted. “Lola,” he said.

She was surprised to find that she really wanted to kiss him.

She knew she shouldn’t. They were breaking up, after all. It would be irresponsible. It would send the wrong message. It would be giving into the desires of her body and neglecting her heart—and her brain, for that matter. She had come so far. Was she really going to backslide like this?

Before she could spiral any further,hekissedher.

She should stop this. It wasn’t right. But…

Their lips pressed together. She felt herself melting into him. Their tongues met. He ran his hands through her hair. He breathed into her mouth hungrily.

She pulled away. “I’m sorry,” she said, breathless and guilty. “We shouldn’t have done that. We’re breaking up.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “I just wanted to say goodbye in a way that felt…” He trailed us.

“Like us,” she said, completing his sentence.

“Like us,” he repeated, his voice low and soft.

Tears sprang out of her eyes. She wiped them away and then realized he was crying too.

“If we do this, it doesn’t negate everything we just said,” she said.“We still need to end this before anyone gets more hurt.”

“Weareending it,” he said. “It’s over. I can just leave if you want.”

She shook her head. That wasn’t what she wanted. “I want closure,” she said.

“So breakup sex.” He smiled, though he was still crying.

“I’ve never had it before,” she replied.

“I’ve never had my heart broken like this before,” he said. “First time for everything, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lola said. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I never meant to hurt you either.”

And suddenly, they were kissing again. Tears mixed with saliva. She found herself in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, holding her, and walked them into the bedroom.

When he lowered her onto the bed, she was still holding tightly with all four limbs. He lay on top of her and kissed her deeply. She felt him hard against her, and she lifted her hips into him.

He tugged his shirt off and tossed it on the ground. She ran her hands along his biceps, which flexed as he held himself up.

She wiggled out of her shirt and her sweatpants, and then she unbuttoned his khakis. Her hands grazed the stiff top of his dick, which strained toward her under the waistband of his briefs. He kicked his pants to the ground. His underwear too.

He stretched his neck down to suck her nipple, sending shock waves through her whole body. She gasped.

He brought his mouth back to hers, his tongue pressing into her a little too firmly, but she appreciated the urgency. She felt it too.

She guided him inside her.

She was wet as hell, and he slid in easily. It felt familiar and new all at once. It made her want to cry more, the feeling of him filling her uplike this. She tilted her pelvis to make room for more of him.

He buried his face into her neck. He kept a slow, steady pace. So much self-control, always. She clawed his back desperately. He was swearing under his breath. She felt his heart thundering in his chest, a slick of sweat sliding between them.

Every time they’d ever had sex in this bed played like a montage in Lola’s brain.

All their fun experiments—the handcuffs, the vibrators, the blindfolds, the body chocolate—and all their passion. Her on top. Him flipping her over. Them coming at the same time over and over and over. All the times he’d moaned her name. The way he sometimes lightly choked her. The sheets damp with their puddles of sweat. Soft caresses as well as bite marks, hickeys, scratch marks. The way she enjoyed the vanilla as much as the kink. How good it felt just to feel his skin on hers, his weight.

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