Page 95 of Last Night Was Fun

“I’ve been thinking of you in my bed since we met.”

She briefly paused at his confession, and judging by the consumed, hungry look on his face while he removed his pants and shirt, she got the sense he wasn’t aware he’d made it.

The gentle caressing and exploring they’d done in their hotel was markedly absent. Now they clawed at each other, all hands and teeth and raw ache to reunite their bodies. Gabe retrieved a condom from his nightstand and wasted no time climbing on top of her where she waited with her legs spread. Her body greedily welcomed his when he pushed inside.

The only sounds were their labored breathing and Gabe softly raspingmissed youas he worked his way in deep, stroking at an intentional pace that both drove Emmy wild and allowed her to gradually take all of him.

Soon they were moving together as one in a rapid rhythm that had Emmy spinning all over again. She’d nearly memorized his body in Mexico, but somehow, everything felt different back here in the real world. In his bed with his home all around her, his soft sheets under her bare skin, the orangey-amber scent so close.

It was new and real, and it was perfect.

“Perfect,” she murmured on a raspy exhale without even realizing it.

Gabe lifted his head at the sound of her voice. He looked down at her, pupils blown out, and darkly grinned. “Yeah. Perfect,” he panted between strokes. And then he got a look on his face like he’d accepted a challenge to make it even better. “Hold on, baby,” he growled.

Emmy drunkenly smiled and logged another personal fact about him.

Gabe Olson: always one-upping everyone, even himself.

He swept his hand down Emmy’s leg, leaving a flaming tingle in his wake, and grabbed her ankle. He hooked her foot over his shoulder and began drilling into her at a frenzied pace that had her gasping and her vision narrowing to a sparkling tunnel. She spiraled and spun. She tasted the stars. Her orgasm hit her like a line drive, and she came with a cry, the pounding pulse ripping through her and leaving her shredded.

As her legs trembled, Gabe slowed his strokes and straightened up over her, pausing to let her catch her breath and tenderly kissing her ankle. “You feel so good, Emmy. So fucking good.” He squeezed her leg to his chest and gazed down at her like he’d won the greatest prize in the world.

Then he pulled out and flipped her over.

He grabbed her hips and yanked her toward him onto her knees only to sink back in and hit a spot so deep inside her that her climax gripped her all over again like it had never let go and refused to do so now. She came again in shuddering waves, nearly screaming into his pillow as he moved behind her, pushing her on and on, deeper and deeper into a blackout bliss until he joined her there, calling out her name and a flurry of swear words before he collapsed on top of her.

They lay still, hearts pounding and lungs heaving. The air crackled around them as it cooled and stilled. Gabe eventually lifted himself off her, the slick slab of his abs leaving her back damp with sweat, and rolled beside her. He turned on his back and inhaled a large breath ashe pulled the sheet up over them. Emmy was boneless. Spent. A pile of limbs and untethered thoughts. He pulled her limp body halfway atop his and stroked her hair. Then he ran a hand down her arm, still somehow able to spark her exhausted nerve endings, and lifted her hand to kiss it.

“We can talk now.” His voice rumbled in his chest where her ear was pressed.

“I literally don’t think I’m capable.”

He softly laughed and draped her lifeless arm over his chest. “Take your time.”

He’d rendered her immobile. She wasn’t sure she’d ever stand again. She’d spend the rest of her life liquefied in his bed—which didn’t seem like a bad prospect, honestly. She let herself mentally drift into a potential future scenario as she listened to his heart calm. She’d come over after work, they’d wreck each other between the sheets, they’d have a lazy dinner together, and maybe she’d spend the night. The thought of it made her snuggle closer to him.

Her stomach loudly growled.

Gabe said, “Hungry? I promised I’d cook.” He began to sit up, and Emmy reached for him.

“You promised we’d talk, too.”

He looked down at her naked in his bed with an unreadable bend to his brow. He lifted her hand to kiss it. “Dinner, then talk.”

As if on cue, her stomach audibly rumbled again.

“See? It’s only proper to feed you after all that.”

“Such a gentleman,” she said with a playful grin but couldn’t shake the feeling he was delaying their conversation. In fact, he might have just fucked her senseless as distraction, she realized.

Mission accomplished.

Gabe leaned in to kiss Emmy again. “Feel free to freshen up.” He pointed toward the bathroom as he headed in that direction, bending over to swipe his underwear off the floor and giving her a healthy look at his muscular thighs and perfectly sculpted backside.

She swooned and luckily had a pile of pillows to catch her when she flopped backward like a damsel into a fainting chair. While he was gone, she took the opportunity to gaze around the room. It was kempt and tidy with a laptop closed on a desk beneath a window; his wallet, watch, and the notorious bottle of cologne sat on top of a tall dresser. The painting hanging above his bed depicted something abstract oiled in shades of blue and gray that could have been either a man in a field or a whale, she couldn’t tell. His nightstand held a lamp, a phone charger coiled like a little sleeping snake, and a stack of five novels: the top one, a political thriller with a bookmark poking out halfway through.

Emmy heard Gabe finish in the bathroom, and aside from peeing after sex like any responsible and hygienic vagina owner, freshening up actually didn’t sound like a preferable idea. The smell of him lingered on her: spicy oranges, a hint of sweat, the pure tonic ofhim, and she didn’t want to risk washing any of it off. Instead, a better idea sounded like digging in his closet for something to wear since her clothes were scattered around his apartment anyway.