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“Eh, it kinda does. There’s a lip that holds the mattresses in place, so it creates a bit of a gap in the middle. But I’ve made sure the two frames don’t slide apart, so it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”
I looked at him, the heat risen in my cheeks. “Used to it, eh?”
He was taken aback. “Oh no, I didn’t mean—”
“Relax, it’s fine,” I said with a smile. “I’m just messing with you.”
I walked past him into the bedroom, slipped off my shoes, hooked my purse over his desk chair and sat on the edge of the bed. He shut the door behind him and joined me, awkwardly. “So, what now?” he asked with a nervous laugh.
“I really like you,” I said quickly. “And I think you like me, too. But it’s the first time both of us have been single at the same time since we first met. So even though we know each other well enough, it somehow makes this moment more nerve-wracking than it has to be.”
“Right. And neither of us has been single for very long.”
“Exactly.”
“It hasn’t even been a full week for you yet.”
“And I kind of don’t care.” He seemed surprised with my cavalier attitude. “I’m not ashamed of it. I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. And I really want you.”
He was quiet for a moment, and my pulse rang in my ears. “I don’t even know why I brought you here, to be honest. My intention was to bring you back to your room, but habit just drew me here.”
“Oh,” I said, defeated. I’d really thought there was something there. His kiss had been so intense, so stirring, that I thought he felt the same. “No harm, then. I’ll see you on Monday,” and I stood to grab my purse.
“Wait, that’s not what I mean,” he blurted and stood up behind me. “I’m not usually this nervous, I’m sorry. I wanted to be a gentleman tonight, is all I meant. One kiss, and here we are in my bedroom. It feels like rushing.”
I almost laughed when I faced him. “We’ve known each other four years.”
“And we’ve been drinking for hours. I don’t want you to feel like I took advantage.”
“Jason,” I said carefully, as I drew closer to him. “I want you. Do you want me?”
His dark blue eyes leveled me with their ferocity. He reached out, took me by the waist as he’d done at the bar, and pulled me so that our torsos were pressed together. “Yeah, I want you.”
The low timbre of his voice lit the fires of my insides. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, and I felt the electricity of anticipation course through my veins. “Take me,” I breathed.
His mouth twisted over mine, arms snaked around my middle, and he lifted me off my feet. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pleased to feel his excitement growing between us as my own echoed with yearning pulses. He laid me gently on the bed and began to snap open the buttons of my shirt. His deft writer’s fingers flitted over my soft flesh as he went. My entire body sang with lust, every twitch of his tongue over mine, the heat of his breath on my skin filled me to bursting with desire for him.
My shirt opened, his hand drifted to squeeze my right breast still in the cup of my bra. His lips trailed down my neck and over the now exposed skin of my shoulder. I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and started to pull it over his head. When he sat up to finish the job, I also sat up. “Take everything off,” I said, breathless. I jumped out of the bed and stripped down as he flung his clothes to the opposite side of the room. As I struggled with my slim-cut jeans—why did they have to be so tight?—he grabbed a condom from a drawer.
Finally naked, I took in Jason’s form. I was surprised. With his clothes on, he appeared lightly pudgy, but in truth he was tightly packed. He wasn’t athletic by any means—no rippling muscles as seen on many a bodice-ripper—but his shape was pleasing. His backside was tight and slim, like two cheese wheels pressed together. When he turned back to me, also fully naked, I watched in amusement as he slowly raked his gaze from top to toes.
“Can I just say for the record, I’m glad you broke up with what’s his name?”
“Me too,” I said, and lunged for him.
Our mouths locked together, I pushed him onto his back on the bed and straddled him. I lowered down onto his stiff member, my breath catching in my throat briefly, and then let out a pleasured sigh. “Oh, god,” he breathed, and squeezed my hips. I moved over him slowly at first, rhythmically, relishing his touch, his hitched breaths, but everything inside me urged to go further, faster, fiercer. The exquisite bliss that each movement spurred through me seemed to pulse in echoes through my flesh.
My voice oozed like honey from my lips in low, soft moans as every wave of pleasure coursed through and over me. I shifted upright above him, my hips rocking over his faster and faster, my hands pressed down on his chest. He pressed his palms into the soft flesh of my thighs, my buttocks, stroked long lines up my stomach and chest, and without thinking, I pulled one of his fingertips into my mouth. I ran my tongue over the ridges of his fingerprint, circled the girth of his finger.
Suddenly, he sat up, one arm tightly clutched around my hips, guiding my movement. We moved together steadily, like a machine churning away, gathering speed with each union and separation. I pulled his face to my neck. His lips traced the soft space above my collarbone, the length of my throat. “Oh, god,” he grunted again.
“Oh, fuck,” I replied, breath ragged. I hovered on the precipice of pure ecstasy. My voice, no longer like honey, burst from me in short, explosive cries of reckless abandon. I wanted this moment to last. I wanted to draw this thrill out for as long as possible, but every thrust of his body into mine drove me past thought into a realm of sensory overload. I was no longer in control of my body, it moved of its own will, its own desire for ultimate bliss. “Oh, god, yes!”
Four years of dancing around our own desires for each other culminated in this moment. My head fell back, hair cascaded down my shoulders in waves. Jason held my hips and back in place to keep me from tipping backward. I felt him strain with each thrust into me, unable to hold back for too much longer, his exhales labored and guttural. His grip on my hips tightened. Forehead pressed to my chest, his grunts resonated through my core. With gritted teeth, he let out a savage cry of release. His body shivered against me, and the bliss began to ebb away.
We rocked a few times more, but he was spent. We collapsed onto the bed, and he kissed me sweetly.
The following morning, late, I woke when I felt him roll up against me and run his lips over my bare shoulder. “Hey,” I said, unable to wipe the smile from my face.
