The past two days had dragged and flown, something she hadn’t thought possible. Jan had been dismayed to hear Ava was involved in another murder, this one by her own hand (“Self-defense? But you’re okay? Yes? Promise? All right, that’s great. Jesus, what is it with you?”) and had referred her case for final review, one of the last steps before she was cleared to fly again.
“Ava? Are you in there?” Tom teased.
She gave herself a mental shake. “Yeah, sure. Are you still okay with spending the night?” Possibly a dumb question. He’d brought a small suitcase, a sizable toiletries bag, and a suit bag. And showed up at 4:00 P.M. for their 8:00 P.M. meal. He does know it’s just one night, right?
“I am delighted.”
“Good.” She was just grazing by now, nibbling at the last few fries simply because they were in front of her, so she put the plates back on the cart and, with Tom’s assistance, pushed the thing out into the hall without accidentally locking herself out of her room.*
Once back inside, she went to him and looped her arms around his neck. “I hate that you were there,” she said, rubbing her nose back and forth just under his collarbone, which prompted the most adorable noises (ticklish!). “But I’m also really glad you were there.”
“My exact sentiments.” He cupped the back of her head, ran his fingers through her curls, tipped her head back for a long kiss.
By the time the kiss broke, concentration was getting tricky, but she managed. “And if you don’t want to … or you’d rather wait … or even just cuddle and sleep, or sleep and cuddle, that’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. Well. I am. But I’ll come back. For you, always.”
He smiled as he eased her shirt over her head. “I do want to. I don’t wish to wait. And I also want to cuddle and sleep, and then sleep and cuddle.”
“Okay. So. We’ve got that sorted.” Jeez, why was she nervous? Simple: this mattered. It wasn’t a one-off. It wasn’t a “see you next time I’m in town maybe but if not, no biggie.” When they were done, she wouldn’t wish he’d take his leave. When they were done, she’d lie in his arms and think about the future and she wouldn’t be afraid of one thing.
And she’d never been anyone’s first before. Not even for her first.
They helped each other out of their clothes, stopping to trade kisses and murmurs until they were both nude, and then she toppled them both over onto the bed. She straddled his hips and swooped down for another kiss while his hands roamed over her hips and breasts and his back arched beneath her touch.
“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t want to go off too soon.”
“Ah—no,” he gasped. “I masturbated earlier to prevent just such an occurrence.”
“Romantic.”
“Anything for you,” he said, and then chuckled when she poked him.
“Anything you don’t want?” she asked gently. “Or don’t think you’ll like?”
“If you’re the one doing it, I won’t mind.”
“Wow. That’s a big blank check you just wrote.”
“Yes,” he said simply, and reached up to brush her cheekbones with his thumbs. “Have I mentioned my great relief that your ridiculous courage and chronic immaturity didn’t get you killed?”
“A few times. Tell me if you don’t like something, okay? And I’ll stop the second you say.”
“And so begin the threats.”
She snorted, then leaned down for another kiss and he flipped them, ducking down to nuzzle at her breasts. She sucked in a breath as he pressed kisses to her nipples, then tentatively licked one. She could feel herself stiffening in his mouth, which was pretty damned glorious, really. “Oh, that’s—that’s lovely. Keep doing that.”
“Your wish.” He’d shaved that morning—fastidious man!—but his stubble was already blooming along his jaw, and the friction was delightful. She cradled his head as he kissed and nibbled and worked his way lower, as he kissed the tender skin of her inner thighs and spread them open and made himself at home for several minutes. And ohhhhhhh, when your endgame wasn’t penetration, the focus on other aspects of lovemaking
“God God God God God!”
—was immediately apparent.
“Jesus,” she gasped. “I never come that fast. And I have a Hitachi wand.”*
“How very kind,” he panted, surging up to kiss her, hard. “I need—after that—my God, you’re responsive. Can we—” He groped blindly for the toiletries bag he’d placed on the bedside table.
“Yes! Let me.” She reached over, fumbled with the bulging leather bag, and when she got the zipper down, the bag seemed to blow up. Two boxes of condoms as well as strip after strip popped out; she’d inadvertently made it rain prophylactics. “Jeez, how many condoms did you bring?”
“I, um, wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.”
“It’s like a clown car! Do you even have room for your toothbrush in here?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Gosh, which one to choose? Such a vast array!”
“Stop it,” he groaned.
“Okay, here, I somehow managed to find one.” She snatched it up, then ripped the packet open with her teeth.
“Is that supposed to be insanely erotic? Because it is.”
“Glddooikeddid,”† she mumbled around the packet. She carefully smoothed it down over Tom’s cock and then lay back and stretched her arms toward him in warm welcome. “C’mere, gorgeous.”
He obliged, catching his weight on his elbows as she pulled her left leg up a bit, and he entered her in one long glorious slide.
“OhmyGod.”
“Yeah.”
“MyGodmyGodmyGod.”
“Perfect. Now move.”
He obliged, moving tentatively at first, then gaining confidence as his strokes lengthened. She crossed her ankles behind his back and urged him on with a series of gasps and groans and “Oh Gooooood, that’s good…” Her orgasm took her by surprise (again!) as she shivered and tightened around him, as he dipped his head for a messy kiss.
“Is it—is this good?” he panted.
“Perfect,” she murmured against his mouth. “Oh, you feel so good. When you get some practice under your belt—”
He groaned.
“Sorry! Totally unintentional pun. I was just—just saying—ah—that if you’re—ah—this good now—oh-oh-oh-oh—imagine what—ah—what—Christ, I’m coming again…”
“C-can I? Can’t wait … much longer…”
“Yes! I didn’t realize you—please, yes, don’t hold back. I’ve got you. And you’ve got m—ah!”
He shuddered above her and his eyes rolled back and she thought, you’re beautiful and I’m so lucky, and then he collapsed as gently as he could.
“Oof!”
“Mupolgeez,” he mumbled against her neck, which she took for “apologies.”
“Naw. You earned that collapse. But if you’re still squashing me five minutes from now, that’s bad form.”