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“Sewing helps me think and calms my nerves,” I remind her, hauling myself off the couch. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to have to change the furniture around. That’s the excuse I used to get away from Mrs. L.”
“You mean you’re going to have to move the furniture around,” Pippa says as she sets her empty dish in the sink on her way to her bedroom. “I’ve got some research to do.”
“Research?” I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“We gotta look up Dillan and find a way to contact him,” Pippa calls from the other room.
“Pippa, please don’t. You really don’t have to bother.” As much as I would enjoy seeing Dillan again, the more I think about it, the more I’m content to just enjoy the memories of our night together and move forward. If he did ditch me—and he likely did—it would be so awkward and embarrassing.
Besides, there isn’t much room in my life for anything other than work these days. I’m doing everything I can to save money so I can open my own dance studio. Adding a romantic relationship of any kind into the mix would just complicate things. During both subway rides, I had plenty of time to think the situation over and have already made peace with the fact I most likely won’t be seeing him again.
We had fun together. We enjoyed each other’s company. The sex had been mind-blowing. It’s a shame it won’t turn into anything else, but I’m not going to dwell on it. If anything, the night was able to provide closure on a chapter of my life that had remained open for far too long. Not to mention, the fact that I’m a burlesque dancer working in a place that used to be a really notorious strip club would scare him off anyway. At least I’ve spared myself the humiliation of him looking me in the eyes and then giving me some BS excuse as to why we shouldn’t see each other anymore. A doctor and a prima ballerina might make a good match. But a doctor and a woman who earns her living standing on a stage with nothing but a few strategically placed fabric pieces? Ugh, no. Probably not.
Pippa emerges from the room with her laptop tucked under her arm. “You may not be curious about him, but I sure as hell am.”
“Isn’t this being a little stalker-esque?”
“It’s not stalking, it’s researching,” Pippa corrects, waving her hand in dismissal. “It’s not like we’re going through his online profiles to see where he is at any given time. I mean, we would, but we don’t have his number, so we don’t have much to work with here. We’re only looking up his name. Everybody looks people up on social media nowadays.”
“Doesn’t make it any less weird.” I cringe at the thought.
“Then you don’t have to do it.” Pippa sits on the couch I’ve just vacated and opens her laptop. “I’m perfectly happy to do it for you. Now go take a shower.”
Leaving her to her own devices, I do what I’ve been wanting to do for hours: take a hot shower. It’ll be no use to even bother arguing with my bestie anyway, because I know it won’t accomplish anything. For once, the building’s hot water doesn’t run out, so I’m able to stay in there longer than I normally would.
The water cascades over me, and it’s a refreshing break from the turmoil of the morning. The daydream blurs with reality as the water’s touch mimics his presence.
With my eyes closed, the sensation intensifies. It feels almost real, his touch, his presence.
He pulls me against his body. I welcome the roughness. I welcome the passion and the heat and everything that comes with it. The way he plucks me up, like I weigh less than a feather, and pushes me against the shower wall, his mouth assaulting my neck. He’s inside me quicker than I can blink, invading me, stretching me, making me scream out his name.
“Stay still,” I hear him say in his deep growl. I nod, unable to speak.
Unable to open my eyes.
“Stay still I said.”
“I can’t.”
Every single time with him is full of heat and passion. Every single time is rough and leaves me aching for more. Every single time, I kiss his jaw afterward and mouth the words I can’t say aloud just yet. Or ever. Because it’s just sex.
We’ve made no promises.
But it sure felt like there was something there for him too. But maybe I was just hoping a little too hard.
I keep my eyes closed, the water continuing to run down between my legs.
Every time, the second he touches me, it’s like electricity runs through my veins. Every kiss is hotter than it had been that night. Every brush of skin burns me. Every moan is magnified until it’s deafening, until there’s nobody else in the world besides us. Every orgasm makes me feel like I’m ascending into Heaven. Every time our eyes lock, I feel safer than I ever have before.
“I’m going to fuck you until everything else fades away. Until there’s nothing but us. You and I.”
He takes me in the shower, under the spray of hot water, pushing me firmly against the wall with his body as his hands tease me, his cock thrusting in and out of me, bringing me to orgasm after orgasm, until we’re both spent and hoarse, huddled together on the shower floor.
When he brings me into a hug and kisses me lovingly, still inside of me, I’m certain that I see Heaven. Or Hell. Or wherever one goes when they feel this much pleasure flooding their system at one time. It’s magnificent, wherever I’m heading. I never want to return to Earth.
But, of course, I’ve got to.
My body is still limp as I come back to myself. When I get up, my legs feel like jello, and I stumble for a second, before I can hold my weight again.
