Page 77 of Suddenly Dating
“What are you doing?” she muttered against his mouth.
“Collecting my roommate benefit,” he muttered back. “You owe me.”
“I do?” Lola closed her eyes and sank into his kiss.
“Yes, absolutely. I helped you clean up this mess. I’ve never seen anyone treat a kitchen like you do. There ought to be a kitchen support group.”
Lola slid her hands around his neck. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you owe me?”
“Oh yeah? For what?”
“Give me a minute,” she said, and smiled. “Okay, I’ve got nothing. I just want you to owe me so I can collect.” She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, very lightly, very softly.
Harry drew a deep breath, cupped her head, and kissed her with a little more urgency. That kiss struck Lola like a bolt of lightning. A million thoughts of why casual sex was really a bad idea in so many ways flitted about her brain like butterflies, but a big net of sheer want swept them up and deposited them in some dark corner.
Lola caught Harry’s collar in her fist and pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his, trying to pull him down, right there on the floor, so that she could have her way with him.
“I thought we agreed—I do the choreography,” he said into her hair, and suddenly lifted her up and put her on the countertop and moved between her legs, bracing his arms on either side of her.
“Did we agree? Because I have some moves, too.” She took his face in her hands and angled her head, kissing him thoroughly, exploring him with her tongue. Harry grabbed her hips and yanked her into his body; she could feel his erection, hard and insistent against her.
She moved her mouth to his ear and nibbled his earlobe.
A groan rumbled in the back of Harry’s throat; he picked her up, and Lola locked her legs around his back. Somewhere, a pan and something metal clattered to the floor as Harry twirled her around and pushed her up against the fridge. He was kissing her wildly, devouring her. Lola sank her fingers into his shoulders to hold on. She was overwhelmed with his touch and his scent, and so quickly turned on that she was beginning to pant. She forgot about everything, forgot they were roommates, and her mother, and the novel she was writing. She forgot about everything in the world except this man holding her, biting her nipple through her shirt. This man wanted her, and she wanted him back in the most desperate way.
“Couch,” she said breathlessly.
“Bed,” Harry countered, and still holding her wrapped around his waist, moved in the direction of her room as he continued to kiss her. They slammed into the door frame—Lola’s head took the brunt of it—and then stumbled over something on her floor. He tossed her down onto her unmade bed, and with one sweep of his arm, sent most everything on top of the bed—shoes, her purse, some papers and a notebook—onto the floor.
She was going to regret this, Lola thought as he yanked at her jeans, pulling them off her body. Tomorrow, she would be confused and wondering if they were a thing now. But it was too late—she’d dived in with all her emotions and yearnings and pheromones firing left and right and pinging off the walls. She assisted when he lifted her up to remove her shirt and bra. She closed her eyes as her hands wandered his chest, now wonderfully bare. She could feel her lips stretch in one very happy smile as he kicked his pants off, felt her smile grow wider when he planted his lips on her abdomen.
There was no going back to roommates, Lola thought dreamily as Harry took her breast into his mouth. This was too good, and it went too deep. She felt like she was shimmering as Harry’s hands ran wild over her body, her bare breast, her thighs... and then deeper, into the folds of her body.
She mindlessly scraped her fingers down his arms and chest, over his hips.
Harry suddenly came up for air and touched his damp forehead to hers. “This can’t be right.”
“What?” she asked, suddenly frantic that he was going to stop. “Because you can’t do casual sex, either?”
“Huh? No! Because it shouldn’t be this freakinghot.”
“Do you want me to open a window?”
“I am talking about you, Lola.Us.” He rolled over, pulling her to straddle him. “You’re killing me.” He put his hands on her hips and lifted her up, and Lola’s heart fluttered wildly. She slid her hands down his slate of an abdomen and took him in hand.
“Do you have a condom in the cyclone debris?” he asked roughly.
She reached for her cosmetics bag, still on the bed, and frantically dumped the contents beside them. Lipsticks and mascara rolled down to nestle in Harry’s side. A tube of ChapStick, a mint she’d picked up at some restaurant, a Fitbit she could never remember to latch onto her waistband, and a tampon scattered across the sheet. She dug into a small interior pocket and produced a condom whose wrapper was turning brittle with time and held it up triumphantly.
“Give me that thing,” he said, grabbing it from her hand, and in a flurry of sheets and flying tubes of lipstick, he slipped it on, then grabbed Lola’s head between his big hands and kissed her again. But this kiss was different; it was slower. Deeper. It wasn’t the frenzy with which they’d started this beneficial meeting, but much more reverent. As if itmeantsomething.
Oh, God, her heart was pounding now—did it mean something to him? He returned his attention to her breasts, and Lola lifted herself up and slid down onto him.
“Damn,”he groaned as she began to move on him. Harry put his hands on her thighs, anchoring her, and began to move with her. When he looked into her eyes, Lola saw the same fire that burned deep inside of her, beneath all her baggage. She began to move faster, and the spark in Harry’s eyes seemed to grow brighter and brighter as she slipped closer and closer to release.
He suddenly flipped them over, onto her back, and began to push deeper into her. His gaze was locked on hers, and he didn’t look away, didn’t lose himself in the throes of ecstasy. He kept looking at her eyes.
Why did everything suddenly seem so serious? So fraught with meaning? All of the emotions she had been careful not to let loose were clamoring to get out of her, to envelop this man.
