Page 140 of Last Call

Riley’s breath hitched as Fallon’s hands mapped the familiar territory of her body reverently. Every touch was deliberate, as if Fallon were memorizing her all over again.

“Let me,” Riley whispered. She gently pressed Fallon’s shoulders until their positions reversed. She straddled Fallon’s hips, her hair falling like a curtain around them. “My turn to be convincing.”

Fallon’s eyes darkened as Riley’s fingers traced patterns across her collarbone, down to the hollow of her throat.

“You don’t need to convince me of anything,” Fallon said.

“No?” Riley’s lips replaced her fingers, pressing soft kisses along the same path. “What if I want to?”

The question hung between them, loaded with promise. Fallon’s hands found Riley’s hips, her fingertips stroking the soft skin just above her waistband.

Riley lifted herself and shimmied out of her jeans, then swiftly tugged Fallon’s shirt. “Off,” she demanded.

Fallon sat up enough to discard her shirt and help Riley remove her jeans.

As soon as Fallon was naked, Riley pressed her back onto the bed. Their movements became a slow dance of give and take, each touch building on the last.

Riley’s hands explored the familiar landscape of Fallon’s body with renewed purpose. Her fingers traced delicate patterns over every curve and dip. When she reached the sensitive spot just below Fallon’s hipbone, Fallon arched beneath her touch.

“Riley,” Fallon breathed. “I need you.”

“I know,” Riley whispered. She pressed a trail of kisses down Fallon’s torso, pausing at the freckles and scars she knew by heart. Her tongue flicked across Fallon’s nipple. Just enough to make Fallon gasp.

“Riley. Jesus.”

Fallon’s fingers tangled in Riley’s hair as Riley continued her exploration. Each kiss became more deliberate than the last. When Riley’s mouth found the junction of her thighs, Fallon’s hips lifted instinctively.

“Please,” Fallon whispered. Color bled from the edges of her vision until only Riley remained—the warmth of her mouth, the sure pressure of her fingers, the devotion in every touch.

Riley looked up, her eyes meeting Fallon’s. She pressed one more kiss to Fallon’s thigh before settling between her legs. Riley’s tongue moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Fallon’s hands roamed Riley’s back, feeling the play of muscles beneath her skin. She’d intended to seduce Riley, to make love to her slowly and gently. Riley never ceased to surprise her. She instinctively knew what Fallon needed. Fallon needed to let go—to fall away from the everyday pressures of life, the trivial tasks that seemed essential but faded from memory the moment she completed them. She needed to be reminded that no matter how life changed, even if it fell apart around her, Riley would be there to put her back together.

That’s what Riley did now. She was breaking Fallon into pieces, one touch at a time, daring Fallon to crumble. Fallon arched with desperation.

Riley slipped two fingers inside Fallon, catching a steady yet gentle rhythm.

Fallon cried out Riley’s name. Her body trembled and quaked. Riley held her steady, gentling her touch, coaxing Fallon through a series of aftershocks with soft kisses.

Riley crawled back up Fallon’s body, settling beside her with a satisfied smile. “Better than laundry?”

Fallon laughed breathlessly. “Much better.”

“Mm.”

“What?” Fallon asked.

“You might need to start practicing your laundry skills.”

Fallon grinned triumphantly.

“Oh. No,” Riley said, lifting herself from the bed. “Not to get me naked.”

“Where are you going?”

Riley came back from the bathroom with her hands behind her back.

“What are you up to?” Fallon said. “Did I shrink something again?”

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