Page 36 of The Vegas Rerun
Finally, he slips out of me and my orgasm starts to recede. I can feel Joshua’s chest rising and falling frantically against my back as he pants for air. I too am panting and gasping and when my orgasm finally ends, I can’t even keep myself upright and I slump back against Joshua. He wraps his arms around my middle, and we stay that way for a moment.
I didn’t think it was possible to beat our night in Vegas when it came to the orgasm I had then, but holy fuck, that blew it out of the water. I have never ever felt anything like that before. I didn’t even know it was possible for an orgasm to last that long or for it to affect my vision.
I’m still thinking of how amazing it was in complete disbelief when Joshua speaks up from behind me.
“This chair has made my ass go numb,” he says, and I laugh.
It should be a mood killer, but it’s not. The fact we can joke around after the most mind-blowing sex like that is something I love about us together, the way we are just so relaxed in each other’s company. I don’t want Joshua to have a sore ass because of me though and I stand up from his lap. Or at least I try to. I manage to get to my feet, but my legs are still like jelly, and I find myself stumbling.
Joshua is already up, and he grabs me before I can fall. He scoops me up in his arms, despite my laughing protests and he carries me over to the couch where he deposits me at one end and sits down beside me. he lifts his arm up and I snuggle against his side and rest my head on his chest just below his shoulder and he wraps his arm around me and holds me against him. In that moment, I am not overthinking, I am not worrying, I’m just happy and content and I don’t want it to end.
CHAPTER 25
JOSHUA
After I carryMolly to the couch and we snuggle into each other, a silence falls between us that’s thick, but not uncomfortable. Molly’s head rests against my chest, her breathing even, her fingers idly tracing patterns on my belly. I don’t want to break the moment, but something has been sitting on my tongue, something I can’t swallow back anymore.
"I’ve thought about you," I admit quietly. "Over the years since Vegas."
I make it sound fairly casual, like I thought of her every once in a while. The truth is, I’ve thought of her a lot over those three years, but I don’t want to say that and scare her away. In my mind, I have played out every scenario of us meeting again, from running into each other on vacation, to her coming to me as a client, but never once did I imagine her working for me. And in none of those fantasies did we spend the first few months of our reunion pretending like we didn’t recognize each other. That was stupid in hindsight, and I don’t even know why I thought it was a good idea now.
Her fingers pause for a fraction of a second before she pulls her head back slightly to look up at me through her long, dark eyelashes.
"You have?" she says.
She sounds pleased to hear it which I like. I nod my head, watching her expression carefully. She doesn’t give much away, but she’s smiling so I take that as a good thing, and I go on.
"I convinced myself that night in Vegas was just a moment, one of those once in a lifetime experiences that you wouldn’t change for the world but know you will likely never do again. But despite that, it stuck with me. You stuck with me."
She exhales softly, her gaze dropping.
"I’ve thought about you too,” she admits.
A strange sense of relief washes over me; I was kind of afraid this was a one-sided thing, that maybe I had built it up in my head to be more than it was. But if she’s thought of me too then maybe it really was that good. And now we’re both here in Boston, both single. But my relief it’s short lived when she continues, her voice turning careful as she rips my heart out.
"But, Joshua, we can’t be more than colleagues," she says.
I blink, the words hitting me harder than I expect them to.
"What are you talking about? We’re great together," I say.
She pulls away fully now, sitting up and watching me, her expression resolute.
"I don’t mix business and pleasure,” she says.
The fact that she can say that and be serious makes me laugh. I can’t help it. A humorless snort of laughter escapes me, more out of disbelief than anything.
"I think it’s a bit late to say that don’t you?" I ask.
She gives me a look, and I can see she’s not amused. It doesn’t change the truth though.
"That was a mistake," she says.
A mistake. The word lodges in my throat like a sharp stone. How can she think something that felt that good was a mistake? I don’t get it, don’t get her. I know she feels this thing I feel, but for some reason, she’s holding back from letting it in and I don’t know why. I decide to push it a little bit, see if she will open up to me. I push myself up onto my elbows, studying her face.
"You don’t really believe that,” I say.
She sighs.
