Page 66 of Love Under the Microscope
I run a finger over one of his eyebrows. “I am?”
“Yeah.” He kisses me, and our tongues meet, sharing our heavy breaths. “You’re so much more than I thought.”
“You mean, I’m not that short, fat man you thought I was?”
He grins against my lips. “No. You’re smart, funny, feisty, hot as fuck, and fantastic in bed.”
“Wow,” I say in awe. “Almost all the f’s.”
“Yes, pretty much all the f’s.” He gives me a quick kiss and then rolls onto his back, taking me with him so I’m half lying across his chest. “I need to get rid of this condom.”
“Okay.” I snuggle closer. “But can you wait a couple of minutes? This is nice.”
“It’s perfect.”
He leans up on his elbow and stares at me, his handsome face not giving me anything, but his disheveled hair shows he’s just thoroughly fucked someone. That someone being me. He seemed to enjoy the sex as much as I did.
Yet, I can’t stop myself from reading more into him wanting to get rid of the condom. His anxiousness to get out of my bed raises doubts in my mind. Does he just want to bolt after getting what he wanted from me?
“Do you need to get home?” I ask, wanting to know if what I’m thinking is all in my mind.
Jack frowns. “What? No. But I can’t fuck you again wearing the same condom, and I want to clean you up. You know, after care.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You want to take care of me?”
“Yes.”
“And go again?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you?” He appears disappointed I might not want a second round, which gives me a thrill. He did enjoy sex with me. “That was too damn good not to go again. Also, I want to stay the night. If that’s okay?”
I grin, fighting the urge to wiggle my toes. He wants to have more sex, and he probably has no idea how much I need to hear that. “More than okay.”
“Excellent.” Jack gets off the bed, giving me a nice view of his tight ass. “Because one more time won’t cut it. We’ll just have to find things to do during my recovery time.”
As he goes into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, I do a little happy bed dance and squeal into my pillow. I need to not let my thoughts and the past color what’s happening now.
After a few minutes, he strolls back into the bedroom with a washcloth and hand towel. He crawls back in bad and tenderly wipes me off with a warm washcloth. His touch is so gentle I blink away the tears filling my eyes. His care makes me feel cherished.
Jack pats me dry. “Feel better?”
“Yes. Thanks.” My voice is husky. I clear my throat. “I should go to the bathroom.”
When I glance in the bathroom mirror, I see my flushed face and chest. I look happy and well fucked. I must admit, it’s a good look on me.
And him.
I take care of business and return to the bed.
He holds out his arms. “Ready to cuddle?”
“Yes.” I crawl against him, enjoying how well we fit together. The feel of his breath and the beat of his heart are the perfect soundtrack. Lying in postcoital intimacy is extremely dangerous. It’s when those first feelings of love tap at your heart, wanting to be welcomed in, thanks to all the hormones released from sex. I mean, I created Orchid. Even if getting more pleasure from sex wasn’t my initial goal, I know how the science of sex works. It’s all based on hormones.
He rubs my back. “This is nice.”
“Yes, it is.” And I know why. Oxytocin makes a person feel emotional bonds. Even trust can be amplified. Endorphins enhance pleasure. Prolactin helps with satisfaction. Dopamine is the reward, more pleasure. And serotonin is more about regulating one’s mood but can help you feel happy.
Stop being so clinical, Lowe.
