Page 54 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

“Fuck me harder. You don’t have to be Mr. Nice Guy.”

Well, fuck me.

“Like this?” I slam into her, nailing her to the mattress. The delirious pleasure is almost unbearable. “You want that?”

“Oh God, yes!”

I grab on to the headboard for leverage and go harder, faster, deeper. Some crazy growl emerges from deep inside me. I’ve been on the edge of everything for so long, hanging on by my fingernails, and she’s giving me permission to let go.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

The wall is shaking from the pounding of the headboard, her tits are bouncing magnificently beneath me, and I cry out, some unintelligible curse or prayer, because this is raw fucking heaven and hell and I feel so alive I might die.

I disappear into the staccato rhythm of fucking Willa and I find myself again.

The white-hot orgasm shreds me to pieces. I am somehow aware of her saying my name andholding on to me while I explode inside her. Blindly emptying into her, frozen in time.

I collapse onto her.

We cling to each other.

Both of us slick with sweat, fighting to catch our breath, exhausted and energized.

My hand finds hers, interlacing our fingers, slowly returning to the world and each other.

Finally, she reaches for the bottle of water on her bedside table, takes a sip, and then hands it to me. I sit up to drink. For the first time ever, I’m realizing I don’t just have a woman in bed with me. I have a partner. It’s a lot to take in—way too much to think about after ejaculating. But this lazy thought is hovering over me like a fragrant, post-coital cloud of smoke.This is what I want.Pancakes and trampoline parties and a woman who can make my kids laughanddo sensational things to my cock.

Thiswoman.

The room is filled with the delicately overwhelming scent of her.

“I want to lie here with you like this for ten minutes, and then I want to do all of that again.”

“All of it?”

“Plus a few other things, in a few other places.” I take one last sip of water.

“You’ll have to buy me dinner first before doing certain things to one of my places.”

I’ve done about twenty perfect spit-takes in my career, on-camera and off, but water spews everywhere and I nearly choke to death.

When I finally regain my composure, I say, “I meant other places in this house, not on you. But I can orderdinner to be delivered in twenty minutes! Where’s my phone?”

She laughs. “I mean, you could just make me a sandwich.”

“Please, I am a gentleman. I’ll make you two sandwiches. But really, where’s my phone?” My dad brain is regaining consciousness. I crawl to the foot of the bed to pick up my pants, finding my phone on the floor. “Shit.” There’s a voice mail, a missed call, and two text messages from Riley’s mom. Two texts from Margo. All in the last forty minutes. My phone’s set to vibrate, but I didn’t hear a thing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know yet.” I listen to the voice mail, trying to concentrate on what Riley’s mom is saying instead of watching Willa glide out of the room, naked.

“Fuck.” The twins are sick. They both barfed. Simultaneously. Theytwarfed. On the trampoline. They’re resting in a back room at the gym. They want to come home. God, the poor things. This is my fault. What kind of an idiot fills his kids up with ten different kinds of food right before a trampoline party?The horny kind.

Willa walks back in, listening to a message on her phone too. “Ohhh, poor things. She called me too.”

I hold my hand up to silence her while I call Riley’s mom back. It goes to voice mail, but I tell her I’m on my way to pick the kids up in Woodland Hills. I grab my underwear, look around for my shirt. I can’t go like this. It’s gotta be so obvious I’ve been having a fuckfest.

“Should I come with you?” Willa asks as she covers herself with her dress.