His lips dragged higher until they were on mine. “I want you to come.” He gripped my hair. “And I want to hear you scream my name when you do.”

I was stabbing his shoulders with my nails, my back arching, each rock of my hips causing it all to increase. Just as the sparks began to explode in my stomach, he bore down on my nipple with his fingers, the other hand on my clit. The combination caused his name to come shooting from my mouth.

“Yes, Whitney, just like that.”

He took control of the movements, his speed faster than mine, and I did everything I could to hold on.

“Goddamn it,” he roared against my mouth, “I’m going to fucking come.”

Each thrust sent my hips bucking as I came with him, squeezing him inside, feeling him hit the end of me each time. They were fast, deep, hard motions until our bodies eventually stilled, our breathing slowed, and he kissed me with a gentleness, like it was our first time.

“You’re amazing,” he said.

He was still in me, our noses touching, my hands clutching the bottom of his neck.

We were quiet for several moments, taking in each other’s heat, until he said, “I have an idea.”

I pulled my face back to look into his eyes.

“How about we bring those cookies upstairs?”

“You have another floor?” I asked since I hadn’t seen stairs.

He nodded. “The roof, where I built a Jacuzzi.”

“Please take me there. Right now.”

He laughed. “And when I get you in that water, I’m going to do this all over again.” His mouth moved to my ear. “Except, this time, I’m going to go extra slow.”

Twenty-Three

With my eyes half-open, I took out my keys from my purse and felt around the knob for the hole, yawning as I slid one into the lock. Every muscle in my body was screaming for my bed; even my toes ached in my clogs from the hours I’d spent on my feet and all the times I’d run the hallways of my unit.

“Dinner is on top of the stove,” Emily said once I walked in, her voice coming from the living room. “Cold beer is in the fridge.”

“You cooked?” Without waiting for her to answer, I added, “I love you.”

I dropped my bag onto one of the barstools and found the plate wrapped in foil. I lifted it into my arms, grabbing a beer and a fork, and joined her on the couch.

She turned down the volume of the TV. “How was work? You look like you could sleep for a month, so I’m assuming it was a rock-star day.”