Page 96 of Rhodes

"You are entirely too pleased with yourself," I say to her.

Precum beads at the tip of my dick, and my balls are already tight enough to ache.

"I've had a productive week."

I catch her wrist before she can wreck me and kiss the inside of it. Then I roll her beneath me and strip off what's left of her clothes. I drag my mouth down her stomach and finish on the inside of her thigh. I know exactly how long I can tease her before she grabs my hair and tells me to stop being an asshole.

"Rhodes."

"What?"

"You know what."

I grin against her skin.

"Use your words."

"I hate you."

"That's not very specific."

She laughs, then gasps when I give her what she's asking for. By the time I come back up her body, she's flushed and breathing hard, and every smug thing I had planned to say disappears when she pulls me down and kisses me.

I reach toward the nightstand for a condom. She takes it from my hand and tears it open. Watching her roll it down over me nearly does me in. She rolls it down slowly enough that I know she's fucking with me.

Her eyes lift to mine.

“You want me, Rhodes?”

I would laugh if I weren't so anxious to get inside of her.

“I’ve never wanted anything more.” I can barely get the words out.

She presses her fingers into my ass cheeks as I line up at her entrance. She's so wet I can feel the heat of her before I'm anywhere near her. I kiss her, then push inside her slowly. She lifts to meet me, and the first full press of her around my cock knocks every joke out of my head.

This is nothing like Italy, nothing like the frantic minutes we stole wherever they'd fit. I go to change the angle and her hips are already there, a half beat ahead of me. I slow down to see whether she'll do it twice, and she does.

I give her the rhythm she likes. Her legs tighten around me.

There's no clock on this one and no door we have to worry about who might walk through. I take it slower than she wants and then slower than that, until she's got a fistful of my sheets and she's calling me names I didn't know she had.

When she finally explodes on me, she goes long and loud enough that she takes me with her.

Afterward, she doesn't scramble for her clothes or check the time. She stays.

Her breathing slows against my chest until I realize she's asleep.

The hall clock ticks outside my room. I've lived in this house long enough that I stopped hearing it years ago. Tonight I hear every second.

Tallulah shifts closer and slides one hand over my chest. Her knee settles across my thigh.

I look down at her. This was easier in Italy. There, we were in borrowed rooms, sneaking quickies on a boat tied to someone else's dock, or having sex on beaches we would never see again. We could call every kiss temporary because the whole fucking country was temporary.

This is my bed and her clothes are on my floor. Her room is down the hall.

She moves again, pressing closer without waking, and I tighten my arm around her before I can think better of it.

On the plane, we agreed we'd go back to normal. I meant to. I really fucking meant to.