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“I don’t want to talk about training.”
“Mood killer?”
She laughed huskily. “Trainer Luke isn’t supposed to be here right now.”
“You’re right.” He reached down and instead of joining them together, he brushed his fingers between her thighs. Lydia’s hips leapt from the bed. If not for his body pinning hers down, she might have launched right across the room as she chased the friction from his fingers.
“How’s this?” he asked even as she threw her head back against the comforter, her eyes pinched so tight they hurt.
“Good,” she rasped.
“Likegoodgood or...”
“Good enough that if you stop I’ll probably have to kill you.” He didn’t stop, and a cry of pleasure slithered from her throat.
“So, just like this?” Luke whispered, rubbing circles around her clit.
“Just...just like that,” she stuttered. It was perfect. Not too soft. Not too much pressure. And just fast enough.
“You don’t want me to change a thing?”
“I swear to God, Luke—” But she didn’t have time to finish her threat because the circles and the pressure and the husky whispers in her ear had been exactly the right combination to hurl her over the edge of orgasm. She wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly, and she tumbled through the torrent of sensation. She felt like a skydiver who’d jumped without their parachute. She was free-falling and there was no stopping the pleasure that rushed up to greet her as her hips bucked.
The shock was so good that Lydia actually drew a blank for a moment. When she came back into herself, she could feel Luke nudging at her entrance, and the warmth that now only simmered in her core began to boil again.God, this man.Instead of telling him he had the permission he was clearly waiting for, she reached down, took his length in her hand and inched him inside her, reveling in the stretch of her muscles.
He braced his forearms on either side of her head. She wanted him to move faster, to take and take from her until she shattered, but he didn’t. His strokes were even and smooth and her pleasure built steadily. Still, Lydia wanted more and she wanted it now, so she canted her hips to meet his thrusts, driving him deeper.
Luke dropped his head and groaned against her ear, and she was desperate to make him feel his own mind-bending release. She rotated her hips with his thrusts, noticing as he became jerky and uncoordinated, chasing his pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he ground down against her, his pelvis pressed against hers, and the pressure inside her released, another orgasm rocketing free. As she convulsed, Luke grunted in her ear, shuddering all over as he came.
“I’ve never seen you so out of breath,” she said as he rolled off her. His muscles relaxed and contracted under the streetlights. “Usually I’m the one hyperventilating.”
“Maybe that’s because you made me do all the work.”
“You liar. That is totally not true!” Lydia said, rolling onto her side. “I know how to use these hips.”
“You sure do,” Luke said, turning to grin at her. It was a dopey, sleepy smile. He reached out to brush away strands of hair that had gotten stuck to the sweat on her neck and chest.
“So, does this count as my cardio for the week?” she asked him.
He snorted. “I don’t think so, but nice try.”
“Guess there’s no point in going for round two then?”
He reached out across the bed with a suddenness that startled her, snagging her hip and hauling her close. Lydia giggled into the next kiss.
Eight
Luke
Luke woke up alone, the aftertaste of nachos on his breath and Lydia’s lip gloss on his tongue.Just this one time, she had said.Get it out of our systems.
He rolled over, into the space she’d occupied on the bed, inhaling the scent of her on the pillow—soapy white florals with citrus. Waking up alone was nothing unusual for him, so he was surprised at the sudden pang in his chest. At how obviouslyinhis system she still was. He opened his eyes, blinking down at the hardwood floor. It was then that he noticed Lydia’s socks. If she’d taken the time to put on the rest of her clothes, why would she have left her socks? He sat up, listening for her in the apartment, but it was silent. Luke climbed out of bed and shrugged into jogging pants and a T-shirt to go investigate.
The living room was empty, but the scent of coffee lingered in the kitchen. He was a simple guy and used instant, which he suspected was not up to Lydia’s fancy, overpriced sugary caffeine tastes. She’d left him a mug on the counter and coffee in the pot. It was still warm. He smiled to himself at the sweet simplicity of the gesture. When he’d poured his coffee, he sought her out in the last place she could be—the fire escape.
He popped the window open, leaning out to see her better. She was curled up in the chair he kept out there, her bare feet kicked up on the railing, a pad of paper in her lap—one of the endless memo pads he ended up bringing home from the gym. Her hair was still loose, amber under the morning sun, sparkling with shades of gold. He itched to twist it around his fingers again, to feel the strands pull taut as he tilted her head, exposing the delicate column of her neck to his lips, but he quickly willed those thoughts away and cleared his throat. “Morning.”
She turned and beamed at him, catching him off guard. He’d expected awkwardness or even a level of embarrassment once the sleep fog faded and she remembered what they’d gotten up to last night. But like most days, Lydia totally surprised him.
