Page 58 of Swept Away

“You can come upstairs.”

“I can come here just fine.”

We both laugh before our smiles vanish, and we look at each other as if our world hadn’t started only a couple of days ago.

As if I hadn’t touched him in disbelief on Friday evening and then let him fuck me behind the club last night.

“This is going so fast,” I say quietly, and he runs his thumb over my lips, fascinated by the look on my face.

“It’s going at the right speed. As long as you like it, that’s all that matters.”

His lips come to me with smoldering fire, and I get trapped in the cage created by his words.

I like the sound of that despite realizing that this story has turned my world upside down in only a few short hours.

“I’m leaving,” I say, not moving.

“Leave then,” he says, not moving either.

We kiss again, and my blanket falls off my shoulders as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him.

“It's hard to send you away,” he says, running his fingers up my legs.

And then we kiss and he touches me between my legs, and before long I’m exactly where I was an hour ago.

Stirred up, ready for sex, wanting everything now.

My hand goes to his fly.I cup and squeeze and rub his bulge.

He pulls his zipper down, and I slide my hand down his pants and stroke his erection while he teases my clit, our mouths locked, our breaths intertwined.

He tastes even better now, since we’ve learned things about each other, our motions are perfectly coordinated, and a lot of the nervousness typical for new beginnings has withered away.

Being comfortable with him is what makes me wrap my fingers around him and stroke him as if we haven’t had sex the entire night.

“I’ll go, now,” I warn him, but again, not a part of my body moves, other than my hand going down and up. “Are you living far from here?” I ask, watching his eyes fill with lust.

“I live in a hotel downtown.”

My hand slows down.

“You can come visit me if you want to,” he says.

“Now?”

“Anytime you want.”

“I need to go home and get some sleep so I can work tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. What about this? You get your sleep, do your thing, and I’ll pop up before noon with coffee and donuts. Then I’ll have lunch with Carter, and we’ll meet tonight. Would that work for you?”

“Sounds good.”

“Great.”

He looks at my hand as I move it faster, not intending to climb out of his car.

“I’m leaving, I swear,” I say, and then lower my head and take him into my mouth.