My sentiments exactly. In our time apart we’ve clearly graduated from Little League and are starting for the pros.
His cadence is strong. He brushes my hair aside, exposing my neck. I rock my hips harder into him while he sucks on my collarbone, forcing his teeth to graze my skin. He pushes deeper and harder into me until my moans echo off the picture windows and sweat is pouring off of me. Adrian’s breathing increases and a shaky moan accompanies a final pull of my hips.
Suddenly I’m in the air. Adrian kicks off his shoes and pants before walking me to the couch, still inside me. He sits, and I press my knees into the soft leather while gripping the back of his head. I push off my knees and stroke my body up and down his rock hard center.
“God, this is good. Faster, Blue,” he commands, guiding my hips to the right speed. I concede and give him all I’ve got. I anchor my hands on the back of the couch and let him have it. I ride him with five years of angst, questions, and one hell of a breakup before he buries his face into my breasts and finishes inside me. I lean back and tighten my muscles around him.
“Holy shit, Ember.” His voice sounds like he’s speaking through a fan. I did that to him.
*
“Do you want a glass of wine?” Adrian kisses my temple. We’ve been lying naked on his couch for over an hour, watching Boston below.
“I do. And a shower, but I left my clothes in my car.”
“They should be in my room by now, I asked the front desk to bring them up.”
I shake my head. “This is unreal.”
“What?” He laughs as I smack his shoulder and stroll to the master bedroom to shower.
A few minutes later, an oversized terrycloth robe hugs my clean skin while I walk back down the hall to the kitchen. Adrian is waiting with wine—in his boxers.
“Feel better?” He hands me my glass, and I walk over to the window.
“Much. This week was fucking weird.”
“I bet. Anything you want to talk about?” Adrian doesn’t want to say his name.
“No.” Neither do I. “What’s it like, living here?”
Adrian leans his back against the window and faces me. “It’s nice. Private.”
I find it funny how a monstrosity of elegance can be classified as “private,” but I choose not to call him on it.
“Tonight was fun, Adrian—and I don’t just mean the last hour, either.” I grin and he walks toward me.
When his lips take a break from mine, he responds. “I had fun too, Blue. I feel like I’ve waited forever to have you here.”
“Why didn’t you ever call?”
“You deleted your Facebook account, your interest—or disinterest—in me was clear. You didn’t want to be found. At least not by me.”
I force a guilty swallow. “I just didn’t want to see you and all of your ‘girlfriends.’” I include air quotes to denote their loose appearance.
“Ha. Ha. November, I’ve had one serious girlfriend since you. And, no, that doesn’t mean I’ve had a revolving door installed in my bedroom.” He’s onto my suspicions. “Law school was a bitch; totally time-consuming. I wanted to be successful when I graduated, so goofing around was out of the question.
“Oh, all work and no play?” I turn back to the kitchen and pour myself another glass of wine.
“Whatever, like you’ve been locked away in an ivory tower somewhere?”
“Whatever to you. I’m clean, I’ve been checked.” I quip, not wanting to divulge my entire sexual history.
“Me too.”
“Good.” I grin and cock my eyebrow.
“Good.”
We laugh and spend the next few hours talking about what, exactly, a consultant of his kind does and how I like my job. I can’t believe what a great time I’ve had tonight. I realize that the only negative feelings I had toward Adrian were cast in the shadow of Bo. Now that Bo’s out of the picture, I take no issue with Adrian. He loved me. Maybe he still does, but we don’t have time for that discussion tonight. He strokes his fingers through the length of my hair as I rest my head on his lap, my eyelids heavy despite my fight to keep them upright.
“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers just before I fall completely asleep.
When we reach his oversized bed, cloaked in what I’m sure are one-million-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, I let my robe fall to the floor and I meet him in the middle of the bed. My head finds its former home in the crevice of his shoulder, and we fall asleep wrapped up in each other.
*
The clock tells me it’s 9:00 AM. My slight hangover feels like it could very well be 5:00 AM. The smell of bacon wafting through Adrian’s apartment tells me he’s made a huge mistake. I gather what I’m calling “my” robe from the floor and shuffle to the kitchen, wiping sleep from my eyes. Adrian hovers shirtless over the stove and bobs his head to the music from his laptop on the island. The island.
“Really? Bacon?” I tease.