Page 50 of Mile High Coach

We move wordlessly together, me stepping forward, and her back, her chin already tipped up to me when I bend down to take her mouth with mine.

She’s cold and hot at once, her stomach warm but her cheeks frosty, and I relish moving between them with my fingers and lips, peppering kisses over her forehead, her eyes, her neck.

Our dance to my bedroom is almost languid, easy and lazy, the simple movements of two people who have gotten to know one another. Our trip is colored by the certainty that we’ll both be getting what we want at the end of this night.

When I kiss her, she tastes like the cider from the market. She tastes like my childhood.

She tastes like my future.

Strangling that thought, I shove it to the bottom of my mind and focus on the here and now, rather than what I may or may not get. Whether I can or can’t convince her to take a chance on me isn’t important right now.

What’s important is that when we stepped into the elevator earlier, and I pressed the button for my floor without even considering stopping at hers, Lovie rode up with me, her hand still in the crook of my arm as we walked toward the door.

She leaned against the wall, watching me unlock the door, then reached forward, pressing her lips against mine just before it opened.

Lovie came to my apartment to be with me tonight, despite the fact that it’s not on the calendar. She’s not ovulating, and it’s not optimal. It doesn’t fit into the schedule of her fertility medicine.

And yet, here I am, walking her backward through the doorway to my bedroom.

Here I am, unclasping her wool skirt and sliding it down, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of her thermal tights and rolling them down to her knees as the backs of them hit the edge of my bed.

Piece by piece, I undress her, loving the sweet softness of her skin, the breaths and gasps, the way her dark eyes focus on mine through the low light of the room, how she reaches for me, tugging at me, asking for me to be closer, closer even without saying a word.

I love how her fingers skate along the waistband of my jeans, her deft fingers making quick work of the button. Her slow, careful nature in sliding them down my legs. The gentle, comforting back and forth of undressing one another, undoing the shells we put on for the outside, to reveal what’s underneath only for each other.

When she looks up at me, her hair loose and wild around her shoulders, those perfect tits free from her bra, pink lips slightly parted, I realize that’s exactly what I want. I want nobody else to see her like this. I want to be the only person in the world who gets to see her undone, flushed and panting, wanting and loving.

I step toward her, ready to push her back onto the bed and drown these thoughts with fucking, but she shakes her head and reaches out, putting her cool hands on my burning shoulders and stopping me in my place. I falter, brain already collapsing with the impossible feeling that this might be it, that she might be coming to her senses and shutting this down.

Then, she pushes her hair behind her ears and slowly sinks to the ground.

“Lovie—” I start, mind racing with all the reasons why this doesn’t make sense. Why it’s not a good idea. Probably because a blowjob has nothing to do with me getting her pregnant. That doing this means something.

“Harrison,” she says thickly, her hand already wrapping around the base of my cock and giving it a good squeeze. “I want to do this.”

My heart hammers in my chest like I’m sixteen again and receiving my first ever blowjob, like I’m a fucking teenager with a crush. Maybe that’s exactly what I am, because the moment Lovie looks up at me with those fuck-me eyes, I have never been harder in my entire life.

When she takes my cock in her mouth, a shudder runs through my body so powerful that it might actually make my knees fucking buckle. I lock in, commanding my body to stay upright as she laps at me, teasing and playing with me, running her tongue over the head of my cock so slowly that my hands itch to reach out, tangle in her hair, speed up the pace.

She pumps slowly, ignoring the thrust of my hips, licking my dick like it’s not throbbing, not slowly edging toward the cliff between horny and painful.

“Lovie,” I growl, a warning, my hand going to the back of her head. To my surprise, she opens her mouth, tipping her head slightly and looking up at me, giving me the slightest nod at thepressure I apply. Then, the entire fucking world tips on its axis as I fuck her mouth.

She closes down, applying more pressure as I hold the back of her head and slide in, thrusting against her tongue and into her throat. I’ve had my fair share of blowjobs, but nothing like this. Never something so raw and pleasurable, never with a woman who trusted me enough to let me fuck her like this.

The noises coming out of her are feral, wanting, and as much as I want to come with her lips around me, I want to come inside her more.

When I pull back, she blinks up at me, confused, but I just reach down and grab her, lifting her with effort, getting her on the bed where I want her. I lay her on her back, watch her hair spread out over the pillow, notch myself in her entrance, and clench my jaw at the feel of how fucking wet she is.

Wet for me—from me. From having my cock in her mouth.

When I slide into her, I play the same game she did with me, slipping in just an inch, taking it slow, holding back until she’s laughing and writhing beneath me, throwing an arm over her eyes in frustration.

“Harrison,” she laugh-whines, arching her back against the bed. “Please.”

Then, in typical Lovie fashion, she doesn’t wait for me to give her what she wants. Instead, she wraps her legs around my waist and lifts her hips to mine, taking me deep and knocking the air from my lungs, until I have no choice but to chase that feeling. to bring her closer with each thrust, drive deeper into her, see what kind of sounds I get her to make. When she tightens around me, her orgasm coming in several increasing waves, I come, too, the pressure enough to send me over the edge.

I spill loose and fast inside her, grunting against her collarbone, and we hold onto each other like we might never have this chance again.

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