“Well,” she manages. “Yeah.”
I feel like there’s something unspooling deep in my brain, some sort of instinctual logic. Some primal urge. I plant my hand by her waist and sink two fingers into her, crooking them harder than usual, the heel of my hand on her clit. Andi gasps and jolts and swears, but then she grabs my wrist and grinds herself against the palm of my hand and hisses, “Fuck, Gideon.”
“You have to be quiet,” I tell her. “No matter how good it feels. You think you can do that?”
“Maybe,” she says. “Are you really gonna stop if I get too loud?”
Probably not.
“Don’t,” I say, and pop the button on my jeans. It’s pure relief, and God, the look in Andi’s eyes.
“But it feels so good,” she says, and looks me straight in the eyes. My brain goes blank. “What if I can’t help myself?”
I inhale, I think.
“If I’m saying your name and begging you to make me come, are you gonna stop?” she goes on, flushed and her eyes half-closed and teasing me like this. “I think you’d like that. Fuck,” she adds as I grind into her clit a little harder, twist my fingers.
“Don’t get us caught,” I say, and palm my dick a little because God, it fucking aches. Sparks fly up my spine, and she’s watching my hand as I close it loosely around myself and stroke. “God, Andi, you look—”
She’s still got her hand around my wrist and one foot up on the mats, using the leverage to grind her clit against the heel of my hand. Her bottom lip is between her teeth and her eyes are going out of focus. I’m dizzyingly hard, leaking into the fabric of my boxers.
“There are condoms in my purse,” she says, and I go still. She swallows. “If you want. I know we haven’t, but…”
Andi makes the softest noise when I pull my fingers out of her, then points to the floor beside the mats. I grab her purse and hand it to her, because I know better than to rifle through purses.
In high school, I made a purity pledge, and I meant it. It’s easy to mean things like that when you’re fifteen and have no prospects, but standing here, at thirty-two, I take a second to let the last tatters of it float away. I feel a little bad about not keeping a promise, but I shouldn’t have promised in the first place.
When she hands me the condom she’s got this flushed little grin on her face, like we’re getting away with something, like it’s exhilarating. I put a hand on her jaw and kiss her, slow and hard enough that I can’t help but groan into her mouth.
“This is a bad idea,” I tell her. I’m already opening the condom.
“You can say no,” she says. “I’d rather you say yes, but…”
I wrap a hand around my dick, boxers still on, and give myself a slow, hard pump. It makes my toes curl, makes my skin feel too small. Andi watches with bright-eyed lust, her thumbs hooked in the waist of her black panties.
“I’m saying yes,” I tell her, my voice half-broken. “But I’m also saying this is a bad idea.”
Andi gives me a smile and a shrug and then pulls her panties off, somehow, and I blink like it was a fucking magic trick.
“Those just come off?” I say as she shoves them into her purse.
“If you put them on over the garters, sure.” She reaches out and thumbs the head of my clothed dick, making me gasp.
“You should be quieter,” she says as I push my pants and boxers down just enough that they’re out of the way. Andi takes the condom from my hand and strokes my cock once, positions it on the head, then rolls it down. She strokes me again and I push her against the mats, kissing her.
“I should be driving us home,” I remind her, and thrust against her again, heat twisting up my spine. God, we’re not even fucking yet and I think I might be melting.
“Still time to change your mind,” she teases me, then bites my lip. I have to swallow a groan and don’t do a good job of it.
“No. Turn around,” I tell her. After one last kiss, she does, bracing herself on the mats. There’s a zipper down the back of her dress, and I pull it down to reveal a sliver of skin all the way down her spine, her skirt still around her hips, the fucking garters and the fucking tights bold against pale skin. Andi shivers. I have to catch my breath, and she looks over her shoulder at me, all flushed and teasing.
I put my hand on her hip and guide myself in, and Andi’s warm and slippery and before I know it Andi makes a broken-off whimper and I’m open-mouthed against the back of her neck, my whole body hot and cold and shivery, her skin salty. I swallow and try to compose myself, sunk inside her, try to fight the sensation that I’m gladly drowning.
“Good?” I finally manage, and curve my hand over her hip, along her belly. Andi leans back and braces a hand against the wall, muscles pulsing around me.
“Good,” she murmurs, and I start moving. I go slow so I can watch, greedily, one hand locked around her thigh. It looks like a magic trick the way I disappear into her, the way it feels like falling, the way she sighs and catches her breath and swallows her noises. The way she rocks back against me and makes a louder noise, an oh that gets caught between her teeth, when I bottom out.
I stay like that for a moment, holding her hips back against me, and scrape my teeth along her neck.
“Fuck,” she whispers, gasps, clenches around me, and from then on, I can’t think. She’s braced against the wall and the mats and I’m braced against her and I’m burning or drowning, it doesn’t matter. She swears again and gets one knee up on the mats, so I find her clit, rub furious circles around it. Andi’s making these small, soft, whimpering noises, and over the rush of blood in my ears I think I hear her say fuck, yes, come on. I think I say her name in response.
And maybe we haven’t fucked before this, but I know how she sounds when she’s getting close, know the specific way her body trembles. Her hand against the wall curls into a fist and I get a second of warning before she comes and I hold her tight and fuck her through it the way I know she likes. I ignore the white heat sinking down my spine until she’s done, boneless and gasping, and then I finally let go.
Andi pushes back against me as I do, the muscles in her back knotting as I come so hard my brain turns to static and my ears ring. I probably say her name again, at least once, and when it’s over I’m plastered against her back, both of us sweaty, half-collapsed on old wrestling mats. I have to remember to breathe once, twice, my face still against the back of her neck.
“I don’t think we were quiet,” she says, turning her head.
“Oops,” I say, and she laughs silently. I feel it in my dick and shudder.
After a moment, I peel myself off her and deal with the condom. Andi pulls her skirt down and I zip up the back of her dress because I’m a gentleman, and then she scoots over and sits so I’m standing between her legs, leaning back against her, floating and lazy. People are waiting for us outside this room, probably wondering where we are. I’ll care about it in a minute.
“That was a good time,” Andi says, playing with my hair. “Thanks.”
I lean back against her, eyes closed.
“You’re welcome,” I tell her, and then: “I’ve never done that before.”