Page 60 of The Hookup
No sooner had he walked through the door, than they’d rushed at one another, a mesh of hungry mouths and hands.
He’d pinned her against the wall, his hands on either side and devoured her with kisses. Leaving a trail from her lips down her belly, and lower, unbuttoning and unzipping her clothes as he worked his way down. Then, he’d sunk to his knees and pleasured her, making her forget everything but the feel of his tongue on her.
When her knees had buckled, when she couldn’t even stay standing, he’d pushed her onto the couch. They’d ended up having sex on the living room couch, their frenzied lovemaking leaving them both breathless.
The next time had been in her bedroom.
“Aren’t you tired?” she asked, casting her eyes on his back which he had turned towards her, almost as if he didn’t want her to see him naked.
“No.”
“Why don’t you turn around?” she asked. “I’ve seen it all before.” It seemed silly to get all coy now, when they’d seen one another naked, and had been intimate with one another. He lifted his head to listen, but didn’t turn around, and then slid his t-shirt over his head.
She longed to lie in bed with him, feel his naked skin against hers and talk. Hold hands at least, like lovers did, but he always seemed in a rush to leave.
“What’s the rush?” she asked.Why can’t you stay?She had almost been tempted to ask him to stay the night when he’d asked her yesterday if she had any complaints.
“I have some proposals to go through.”
“It’s the weekend,” she exclaimed, holding the bed sheet loosely to her chest. “Don’t you ever rest?”
“I just did.” He turned around, as he pulled his t-shirt down his finely sculpted body. A body she’d had the pleasure of stroking earlier, and now her fingers itched to do the same again.
She climbed out of bed, covering her body with the sheet. “You work too hard,” wanting to touch his face. The intimacy, she noticed, only lasted as long as the act. It was as if he couldn’t bear to let his guard down once their lovemaking was over. Even now as she stood in front of him, it felt odd that she couldn’t stroke his cheek, or take his hand. He used those things only as a prelude to sex, never after.
“You work hard, too,” he countered, rolling down his t-shirt and giving her one last peek of those beautiful abs, before his cotton shirt covered them completely.
“Then surely we both deserve to stay in bed, and hang out. Eat pizza in bed, and do whatever comes naturally.”
“What are you doing in February?” he asked, ignoring her suggestion completely.
“February?” Her mind snapped to attention, and the wordsValentine’s Dayseeped slowly into her brain.“Nothing much, business as usual. Why?” She tried not to raise her hopes.
“Are you free around the second?”
Her heart began to thud. Maybe he had planned a getaway. “The second?”
“My sister’s getting married, and she said I can bring someone.”
The disappointment that it was nothing to do with Valentine’s Day was replaced at sonic speed by the offer of a wedding invitation.
He was inviting her to his sister’s wedding? She didn’t even know he had a sister, let alone that she was getting married.
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“I do.”
“Tell me about her,” she said, trying not to let it bother her too much, that he was ready to leave right after sex.
“You can meet her at the wedding, and find out for yourself,” he said, sliding his shoes on.
“Why can’t you tell me about her now?” she asked, prying deeper. She sensed that he didn’t like it but she couldn’t help it, and she didn’t care.
“She’s my sister, what more is there to know?” he asked, expelling irritation. “Can you come?” he paused, then, “Do you want to?”
Of course she wanted to. This man was hard to gauge. He’d just used her for sex, and now he was inviting her to his sister’s wedding. What was she supposed to make of that? He was being dismissive of her, yet his action said otherwise. Inviting her to his sister’s wedding wasn’t something she could take lightly. It was a big deal in her books. “I’m pretty sure I’m free then, so yes.”
“Great.”
