I hear him moving around the room, undressing and then the bed dips as he climbs in beside me.
I feel his hand reach out in the dark, and he takes hold of mine. He pulls my hand over and holds it against his warm, hard chest. I can feel his heart beating under my palm.
“I love being in bed with you,” he whispers.
“And I love having you in my bed.”
“Are you still tired?” he asks.
“Not so much now.” I stifle a yawn. “Why, what did you have in mind?”
“A few things.”
“Go on?” I coax, smiling.
He shifts closer to me and runs his hand up my leg. I part them as his hand moves higher.
“Say something in Spanish to me,” he murmurs.
“Why?”
“Because you sound so sexy when you do.” He runs his tongue over the skin on my neck, and I shiver inside.
“I do? I always thought I sounded dorky.”
He lifts his head, staring at me in the darkness. “Dorky – are you kidding?”
“Well, you laughed every time I did the accent when we were kids.”
“I laughed to try and kill my hard-ons.”
“And I did it to make you laugh,” I giggle.
“Tease.”
“Perv.” I grin. “So you really like it.” I push my fingers into his thick hair.
“I really like it.” His voice is dark and sexy. “I spent most of my early adolescence with a hard-on because of you – I still do now. I can’t watch a Penelope Cruz film without getting a hard on – it doesn’t bode well at premieres you know. I associate all things Puerto-Rican and Spanish with hard-ons, and it’s totally your fault.”
I giggle again.
“When you were teaching Stuart Spanish swearwords the other day, fuck, Tru…”
“Joder,” I whisper.
“Christ,” he groans. He grabs my hair, kissing me hard on the mouth.
I like this seeming sense of power I have over him.
“Shit, Tru, what are doing to me? It took everything in me the other night not to bend you over the table and take you right there and then in front of Stuart.”
“Is that why you were so moody?”
“I was frustrated,” he growls.
I grin in the darkness, shivers ricocheting through me.
“You should have taken me then.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” he says, tone serious and really hot. “The next time you speak to me in Spanish I’m going to do some seriously dirty things to you and I won’t care where we are.”
I press my legs together and moisten my dry lips. “Hazme el amor,” I say, trying to sound seductive.
He groans, biting down on my bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth. “What did you say?”
“Make love to me.”
“That, I can do.” He yanks my shorts and panties down and pushes his finger deep inside me.
I gasp gripping the sheets with my hands.
“I’ll never tire of doing this with you,” he breathes.
“I’m sure one day you will.”
He has me flat on my back and is on top of me, pinning my arms above my head before I get chance to blink.
“Never,” he reaffirms. Then he starts to kiss my neck, working his way downwards, hands cupping my breasts, touching me in just the right way, like he’s been doing this to me always.
And once again, I lose myself in him, basking in his glory, and the feelings only he can create in me.
Jake and I are laying facing one another in the darkness, the shine of the moonlight coming in through the huge hotel window, as we stare at each other.
“Do you still dip your fries in your milkshake?” he asks.
We’re talking food. We’ve been talking nonsense for the last hour, my tiredness faded long ago with the sex, and I’m loving it. I’m loving him.
“Of course,” I grin.
“You still know that’s gross don’t you?”
“Yep, but I don’t care because I love it.”
“You always were a weird case.”
“Ditto.” I pull my tongue out at him.
“Yeah, but I always pulled off the weird in me way better than you did. I made it appear cool to others.”
“Ahh, so I guess I should get some tips from you then on how to be the bomb.”
“Most definitely. And I’ve got plenty of tips I can give to you that will raise your cool points in no time.” He runs his fingertip down the length of my nose. A finger of which has just been doing all manner of naughty things to me, not short of an hour ago.
It makes me shiver inside.
“Hmm, I just bet you have.”
A question is buzzing around in my head. The one I’ve wanted to ask him since I first saw him in that hotel room for the interview.
I take a deep breath in. “Why did you stop calling and writing?”
He stares at me for a long moment.