Page 122 of The Incredible Ordinary

The elevator finally stops, and I’m out before the doors are even fully open.

Milán is standing just outside his door, his eyes moving up and down me hungrily as I approach, and whatever remnants of reasonable intentions there might have been in the first place, if at all, get overshadowed by need.

I walk straight into him, back him against the wall, and kiss him. His fingers dig into my waist, his mouth answering with the same kind of ferocious need that’s coursing through me.

“Your apartment is too high. Took me forever to get here,” I murmur against his mouth.

“I’ll move,” he says as we stumble inside and he slams the door shut behind me.

We never break the kiss as we move through the apartment. I don’t pay any attention to where I’m going, just follow his lead until he pushes me into a room and shuts the door behind us. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. We crash onto the bed in a mess of limbs, lips still fused together.

His cock is hard against mine. I kiss him everywhere I can reach. Lips, underside of his jaw, neck.

“How much time do we have?” he pants.

“An hour.” I answer just as breathlessly.

I ran here straight from work and have to be home soon. I shove my hands under his T-shirt and slide them up his back, pulling him closer.

My palm covers the side of his jaw. He bites down on my lower lip, and I moan into his mouth when our tongues tangle.

We make out with the harried desperation of two teenagers. His hands are everywhere, sliding up my sides, underneath my shirt, up my chest. Fingers tweak my nipple, and I shiver, gasping out his name.

My thighs wrap around his waist. My hips grind into his.

His fingers grip my thigh.

It’s wild and fast.

And then he slows it down.

Kisses become lazier. Slower.

Bodies and hearts settle.

Frenzied passion is replaced by something gentler. He leans his forehead against mine and pants, muscles tightening.

And it makes something impossibly soft unfurl in my chest. I kiss the pounding pulse point on his neck, and he shudders. His cock jerks against my lower abdomen, but he doesn’t make a move to push things any further than this frantic make-out session.

“Hi,” I murmur softly with my lips against his cheek.

His body shakes as he chuckles softly. He lifts his head.

“Hi,” he says, laughter in his eyes. His fingers slide through my hair and cup my cheek. I lean into the touch.

“Tell me about your day.” I turn my head and kiss his palm.

He sucks in a breath, and there’s that flutter inside my chest that’s become a regular thing by now.

He lies down on top of me, head on the pillow next to mine, all bright blue eyes and five o’clock shadow, lips red and swollen from kissing.

His fingertips settle on my neck, caressing softly, and I just feel so comfortable and content that I never want to move again.

His voice lulls me into a sense of peace.

It’s just the two of us. Two ordinary people in their ordinary lives that somehow feel extraordinary now.

He lets out a satisfied hum, and my chest jolts.