“Yeah?” His voice is barely a whisper.
“Yeah. And I can show you my latest tests. It’s been months since I was with anyone.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and I notice that his tie is loose, probably from me mangling it in the car.
“We’ll compare results later,” he says. “And me, too. Nearly a year.”
Before I can wonder at that, his mouth crushes mine, and he grabs me by the thighs, hoisting me up. The door is hard against my back, and his chest pushes that goddamned batterypack into my sternum, but I don’t give a shit. I reach between us, clasping his length and guiding him to my entrance. After all the foreplay in the car, I’m wet, but his dick is big. I wince when he pushes the head into me.
“Sorry.” He halts, panting into my neck. “I swear I’ll go down on you for hours later, I just need—”
“Me too,” I whimper, cutting him off. “I need you inside me.”
He lets out a harsh groan and sinks all the way in. My eyes roll back at the delicious fullness.
“Hang on.” The command is issued in a hoarse whisper. “Gonna fuck you now.”
Just the thought of it has me mewling, but I muster the wherewithal to clamp my thighs around his hips. And then all I can do is hold on for dear life as he slams into me. The angle is right, hitting just where I want it. My LEDs flicker on and off from his chest repeatedly bumping the power button. I bite my lip, muffling my moans while pleasure spirals through my limbs and my skin tingles.
And when he sucks on the sensitive place at the curve of my neck? I fucking unravel, quaking in his arms from a swift, blinding orgasm.
He fucks me through it, and mere moments later, his taut ass cheeks flex against my calves as he thrusts deep, locking our pelvises in place. He comes with a ragged groan.
Tension drains from his body. We’re breathing hard and leaning all our weight against the door. When my brain finally comes back online, only two thoughts flit to the surface.
One: I just fucked Gideon Noble.
And two: It wasincredible. The kind of effortlessly perfect sex I was searching for during my Hookup Era.
Why the hell did I have to find it withGideon Noble, of all people?
Luckily, I don’t have time to obsess further, because Noble exhales with a grunt and shifts his hips. His cock slips out of me, and I clench reflexively, feeling a trickle of wetness. God, why is that so hot? When he lets me down, it’s nice to see we’re both a little wobbly. I’m still regaining my balance when he drops a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Sorry.” His voice is gruff and my heart sinks, because I know he’s not apologizing for what we just did.
No, that “sorry” is for the past.
I’m not ready to dig into those memories yet, not until I can get a better grip on my emotional state. He’s still wearing his tie, so I grab the end and tug him away from the door.
“Come on, Noble.” I flash him a flirty smile. “Let’s shower.”
Chapter 6
Gideon
I follow Torres in a daze. We’re both quiet. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Fuck, I wish I knew whatIwas thinking. This is literally the shit I used to daydream about, but the reality of fucking Torres against her front door far exceeded anything my adolescent brain could’ve imagined, and I’m having a hard time catching up.
Her bathroom is typical of an old New York City apartment—tiny, with gray subway tiles and a black and white mosaic floor. She turns on the shower, and I help her unwind the lights from her torso. Then I finally remove my tie and unbutton my shirt while she strips off the red dress. I don’t get a clear look at her body before she steps into the tub, justa flash of pale curves. I have the brief urge to leave now and avoid the coming conversation, but I don’t. Second chance, right? I finish undressing and fold my clothes, then climb in after her.
She’s washing her face, so I soap up quickly. The space is cramped, and we bump into each other as we bathe. Between the steam, the scent of lime bodywash, and the white noise of the spray, it’s like being trapped in an intimate yet awkward cocoon. I’ve showered with sexual partners before, but this isValencia Torres. Everything is different.
I sneak a glance as she runs the soapy loofah over her body. I want to follow the path it takes with my tongue, but the tub is already too small for the two of us, and I’m worried that if I try anything, we’ll hurt ourselves. She passes me her face wash, then steps out.
A moment later, I hear her voice. “There’s a towel hanging on the door for you. And I can give you something more comfortable to wear if you don’t want to put your work clothes back on.”
“Sure. Thanks.” I wait in the tub, since there isn’t room for both of us on the bath mat. After she leaves, I turn off the shower and step out to dry off. With the towel around my waist, I pick up my clothes and cross the hall to her bedroom. It’s just big enough for a queen-size bed, a tall, narrow dresser, and a small nightstand stacked with books.
Torres is covered from armpit to knee in a towel as she stands on tiptoe to reach the top shelf of her tiny closet. When she hands me a yellow soccer jersey and a pair of men’s running shorts, an uncomfortable thought crosses my mind.
