Page 28

The night had been so much fun—drinks flowing, laughter constant, the six of us clicking in a way that felt surprisingly natural. Louise and Nick were practically attached at the hip by the end of the night, while Kelly had managed to draw Arjunout of his shell enough that they were deep in conversation at a corner table.

It wasn't until the club ended and we spilled out into the night that we realized the car park we'd parked in was locked for the night, and we couldn't get home.

"Fuck," Louise groaned. "I am not sleeping in the car in this dress."

Alex suggested we go stay at his place and come back for the car in the morning. It was the logical solution, so we piled into an Uber and headed to his apartment. Once there, he set Louise and Kelly up on the floor of his living room with blankets and pillows, then led me to his bedroom.

The second we crossed the threshold, he pounced, wrapping himself around me and throwing me onto his bed. He climbed on top and started to devour me, his mouth hungry against mine, his hands everywhere at once. He spread my thighs, pulling down my underwear as he settled between my legs and started to eat me out with an enthusiasm that made my toes curl.

Fuck me, I was a goner as he licked and sucked. The bed was noisy, creaking and groaning under us, prompting me to say, "Let's move to the floor. The last thing I need is Kelly and Louise to hear us."

He nodded, helping me off the bed. I stripped off my dress as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing that tattooed torso that had first caught my attention. His jeans followed, and then we were both naked, drinking in the sight of each other in the dim light filtering through his curtains.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, pulling me against him for another kiss.

I could taste myself on his lips, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. "So are you," I breathed, running my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos.

We sank to the floor, and Alex grabbed a condom from his nightstand, settling between my thighs as he slowly pushed into me. The stretch was delicious, my body still getting used to his size. He started with gentle, measured thrusts, his eyes locked on mine, one hand cupping my face tenderly.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice rough with desire but his eyes searching mine for confirmation.

I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "More than okay."

He smiled, that crooked smile that had first caught my attention in his profile picture, and then he began to move in earnest. His thrusts grew harder, faster, the tenderness giving way to raw passion as we found our rhythm together.

I arched beneath him, feeling the carpet rubbing against my back with each thrust, the slight burn adding to the intensity of the sensation. His hands gripped my hips, lifting me slightly to change the angle, hitting that spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

"Alex," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it," he grunted, his pace increasing as he drove into me relentlessly.

I could feel the tension building, that familiar coiling in my lower belly that signalled I was close. Alex seemed to sense it too, one hand sliding between us to find my clit, circling it with just the right pressure.

"Come for me, Geri," he urged, his voice a husky command that sent shivers down my spine. "Let me feel you."

And I did, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my back arching off the floor as I tried to muffle my cries against his shoulder. He continued to thrust through my orgasm, prolonging it, drawing it out until I was trembling beneath him.

Then he was on his knees, his hands gripping my thighs as he fucked me hard and fast, the new position allowing him to go even deeper. The carpet burned against my back, but I didn't care—the pleasure far outweighed the discomfort. I watched his face, captivated by the intensity in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched with each thrust, the sheen of sweat on his brow.

Just as I felt another orgasm building, he pulled out, quickly rolling the condom off. With a few strokes of his hand, he came on my belly, his release hot against my skin. I watched, fascinated, as he caught his breath, then looked down at me with a mischievous smile.

To my surprise, he began to draw with his fingers, using his come to trace patterns on my stomach. Heart shapes, I realized with a mixture of amusement and tenderness. He was drawing love hearts on my belly with his come.

"What are you doing?" I asked, laughing softly.

"Art," he replied with a grin. "Beautiful canvas deserves beautiful art."

It was ridiculous and sweet and strangely intimate all at once. I pulled him down for a kiss, not caring about the mess between us.

"You're weird," I told him, but I was smiling.

"You like it," he countered, echoing our earlier exchange on the dance floor.

And I did. I liked his weirdness, his openness, his consistency. I liked the way he looked at me like I was something precious, something worth pursuing. I liked that he called when he said he would, that he didn't disappear for days at a time, that he wasn't afraid to show his interest.

As we lay there on his floor, sticky and satisfied, I wondered if this was what it felt like to be with someone who actually valued you. Someone who didn't make you question your worth with every unanswered call or text.

It felt good. It felt right.