Left Drowning(65)

“It is.”

“And that couch just screams possibilities, doesn’t it.” Now he has my nipple between his fingers.

The surge of desire that moves through me leaves me nearly incapacitated.

“After dinner, though. We need fuel.” Chris parts my robe more and leans in to sweep his tongue over my breast. “Sound good to you?”

I can only nod weakly in response. It may be the middle of the night, but I am wide awake.





CHAPTER NINETEEN


Belonging


Waking up with Chris’s mouth between my legs, his tongue working against me hard, and finding that I’m halfway to orgasm is not a bad start to the day. At all. He went down on me last night, and I thought that I might absolutely combust. That first touch of his mouth to my clit was more than I could have imagined, and apparently he likes this as much as I do since he’s doing a damn spectacular job of hitting all the right places with all the right rhythms. Chris can read my body with shocking clarity.

He spreads me apart with his fingers and covers me with his mouth as he sucks on me slowly. I reach down and put my hand on his head and lift myself into him.

He pulls away slightly so that his mouth is barely touching my body, and he starts to kiss me lightly, just barely letting his lips brush against me. I run my hands through my hair as he parts me open again and traces his tongue over my clit. I’m moving against his mouth now as he puts his hands under me, squeezing me softly and letting his fingers wander. He lifts his tongue and moves down, pushing it inside me for a minute before moving even lower. I spread my legs apart more. I’m breathing hard, practically panting, and I can feel my orgasm coming.

I move to put myself in his mouth again. “You ready?” he asks, and takes my moaning as a yes. “Good. Because I can’t wait any longer to taste you while you come.”

Those words alone almost do the trick.

His tongue is on me again, and he drives his fingers deep inside me, hard. My muscles tighten and I can barely breathe. His mouth and hand are moving perfectly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, and he’s got total control over me now. It feels like forever that he keeps me on that delicious brink of ecstasy that he gives me just before I come. This? This I cannot do to myself. And then Chris moves just a little faster until I explode. He lightens the pressure as I start to throb against his mouth. I can’t believe how hard I’m coming, how much I’m trembling, how loud I am. He lifts his mouth and gently rubs me with his fingers, making sure I get to enjoy this fully.

And although I’ve just had the most incredible, satisfying orgasm, and I can hardly see straight, I want more.

I’m still dizzy and breathing hard when he kisses his way up my body. “You and your * are f*cking delicious.”

“Wait …” I’m still half asleep, but I’m alert enough to realize that he’s fully dressed. “Why are there clothes? Stop it with all the clothes-wearing nonsense.”

He kisses me again. “I have to go. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“Sabin?” I ask.

“Yeah. Dinner at seven tonight, okay?” He pauses. “So I’ll be here at five.”

I smile. “Five is good. Hope things go well today.”

“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” He pulls the comforter over me and kisses me on the cheek.

I sleep until after one in the afternoon. Getting laid until all hours of the night is evidently exhausting. After I shower and get dressed, I text James. I’m not ready to fake a friendly chat, but I don’t want to cut off communication with him. Housekeeping knocks on the door, and I decide that if ever a room needed cleaning, it’s this one.

Besides, I’m starving. The hotel lounge has a nice lunch menu, so I head down there and inhale a sandwich and then ask for the largest cappuccino they’ll make me. Then I order another one.

I’ve only been awake for a short time, but I check the time because I cannot wait until five o’clock. It’s impossible to stop smiling like an idiot, so I hold my phone in front of me to give anyone nearby the impression that I am wildly amused by some stupid regretsy post.

An e-mail comes through. One I’ve been hoping for. Annie has written me back. A long, thoughtful, amazing response to mine. She is heartbreakingly understanding, and not only does she not blame me for pushing her away, but she even confesses that to some degree what I did was a relief. I remind her of my mom in the same way that she reminds me of my mom. We can recover from that, though, she says. She promises. Annie insists that we talk on the phone—soon if I’m up for it, but later if that’s what I need.

I’m tempted to call her right then, but I decide to move slowly. My e-mail reply to her is full of relief, and joy, and assurances that I will call soon. And I will.

I look around the hotel lounge. Spending money on this place is obscene and unnecessary. Normally I am not a particularly self-indulgent person, and if I hadn’t run into Chris here I suspect that I would have moved myself to a much cheaper place after a few nights when the amount of money I was wasting hit me. As it is, I am going to make peace with spoiling myself this week. Not everyone has the opportunity to escape into a hotel fantasy life for a week, and I am grateful that I can do this for myself. Especially at a place like this. The Madison Grand is very modern, but still cozy and comfortable, and there’s something sexy about it. Of course, everything seems sexy to me right now. I check out the potted tree a few feet away. Okay, good, I do not find the tree sexy at all, so I have not entirely gone off the deep end.