“Memorizing what?”
“This. You. The way you look right now.” I sit up, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her chest against mine. The angle changes, and she moans into my mouth. “The way you sound when I’m inside you.”
She picks up the pace, riding me harder, her forehead pressed against mine, her breath hot on my lips. I reach between us and press the vibrator against her clit, and she cries out, her rhythm faltering.
“That’s cheating.” She gasps.
“That’s winning.” I hold the vibrator steady while she rides me, and it’s the most obscene, beautiful, filthy thing I’ve ever been a part of. Her moans are getting louder, more desperate, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“I’m going to come,” she warns me, like it’s a threat.
“Come. I want to feel it.”
She falls apart on top of me with a scream that I’m certain every person in this building can hear. She clenches around me so tight that I follow her over within seconds, my face buried in her neck, her name on my lips.
We stay there, tangled together, chest to chest, her still in my lap, neither of us willing to break the contact. Her face is pressed into my shoulder, and I can feel her eyelashes against my skin when she blinks.
“Justin?” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Setting four is now my second favorite.”
I laugh so hard I nearly dislodge her. “What’s your new favorite?”
“You.”
I tighten my arms around her and press a kiss to the top of her head. Outside, Manhattan hums, inside, it’s just us. Sweaty, wrecked, and tangled in sheets that smell like pizza, sex, and something that feels a lot like the beginning of everything.
“Lettie?”
“Mm?”
“I’ve never been happier,” I confess to her.
“Me either.” She looks up at me dreamily.
I hate to move her, but I pick her up off my dick and lay her down. She rolls onto her side as I dispose of the condom. I reach over and turn off the lamp, and she curls into me in the dark, her head on my chest, her bandaged wrist resting on my stomach, and I pull the covers over us.
“Goodnight, Justin,” she murmurs.
“Goodnight, Lettie.”
She’s asleep in minutes and I lie there in the dark, listening to her breathe, feeling her heartbeat against my ribs.
This is real. She’s real. We’re real.
Don’t fuck this up.
I wake up before her,early light coming through the window, the city already humming. She’s still curled into me, her face pressed against my chest, her breathing slow and steady. I don’t want to move. I want to stay in this bed for the rest of my life. But we have a game today, and I need to get home, shower, and get my gear.
I brush the hair from her face. “Lettie.”
She groans. “No.”
“I have to go, it’s game day.” I kiss her forehead, careful of the bandage. “I’ll see you at the arena.”
She opens one eye. “Will you be professional?”