Undecided(65)

“They do? Since when?”

“Since always.”

“Geez, man. I never knew.” Kellan looks a bit incredulous, but then just shakes his head. “Fine. I’ll get the gas and swing back here to get you. Think you’ll be finished in time?”

We both freeze. I speak first. “If I work fast.”

“I don’t think it’ll take that long,” Crosbie adds. “The paper is really ready to go.”

Kellan stares at us like we’re morons, then shrugs. “Okay, fine. Whatever. I’ll text you when I’m back.” Finally he puts on his sneakers, grabs his keys, and leaves.

The door’s been closed for exactly one half-second before Crosbie’s on me. “Oh, thank God,” he mutters. He snatches the papers out of my hand and hurls them onto the floor before hauling me in for a frantic kiss.

“Finally,” I mumble against his lips. “I’m dying.”

“You’re dying? I’ve been dying for days.”

“I bet I died more.”

“I bet I died harder.”

We fumble to our feet and I feel his erection against my belly. Hard is the perfect adjective. “You win.”

“If we do this right, we’ll both win.”

I moan into his mouth as his fingers carefully unbutton my shirt. He doesn’t even bother to unhook my bra, just shoves down the cups and fills his hands. “Crosbie,” I pant. “Faster.”

“I want this all the time,” he says, pulling back long enough to look at me, his fingers tugging lightly on my nipples. “I think about you every day.”

He’s wearing an old concert tee over a long-sleeve shirt and I pull off the top layer and throw it on the floor. “Me too.” I stand on my toes to kiss him again. “It’s not enough.”

“No,” he groans. “It’s not.”

The rattle of keys has us lurching apart. I clutch the front of my shirt together and dash into my room, trying to fix my bra. I hear Crosbie curse, then his T-shirt sails past me and lands on my bed, a very weak stab at hiding the evidence.

I keep my back to the room as I hear the thud of Kellan’s feet climbing the stairs. “I forgot my phone.”

“Oh. Right.” Crosbie sounds hoarse and annoyed.

“Are you guys done already?”

My body spasms unhappily at the possibility of this being over before it even begins.

I turn around to find Kellan looking at the floor where Crosbie’s “essay” sits, discarded. Hastily I pick up random papers from my desk and wave them to distract him. “I thought it’d be easier to read in here,” I lie. “So Crosbie wouldn’t be breathing down my neck the whole time.”

Crosbie crosses his arms, making his biceps bulge. “I just want to make sure you do a good job.”

“Nora always does a good job,” Kellan replies, oblivious. “And she’s fast, too.”

Oh God. “I’m going to get back to work.”

“Right. I’ll be back soon. Don’t give her a hard time,” Kellan adds, pointing at Crosbie. “She’s doing you a favor.”

“I’m very grateful,” Crosbie replies, straight-faced.

“You should be. Back soon.” Kellan jogs down the stairs and disappears outside. This time we scurry over to the front window and hide behind the curtains as we watch him climb into his car and drive down the block.

“Fuck me,” Crosbie mutters, grabbing me by the waist and backing me into the wall.

“That’s the plan,” I say.

He laughs. “C’mon. I’ll show you how grateful I really am.”

We strip down to our underwear in record time and Crosbie squeezes my ass and boosts me up so I’m pinned between his chest and the wall. I wrap my legs around his waist and feel his cock against the cotton of my panties, grinding into me. I gasp for breath and rotate my hips, desperate for more friction. Just desperate, generally.

“I wish we had more time,” he mutters, tongue trailing over my neck, teeth nipping lightly. “And a door with a lock he didn’t have the keys to.”

“I know. I know.” I can’t think much beyond the hand he’s sliding under my panties, coasting over the skin of my ass and lower, down between my legs, finding the wetness that waits.

“Oh f*ck.”

I echo the sentiment when one of his thick fingers pushes inside. It feels like only seconds before I’m clinging to his neck, my short nails digging into the muscles of his back as I switch between begging for more and swearing I can’t wait any longer.

“Nora, I’m gonna—Oh, f*ck, Nora, I think—” He lowers me so I’m standing, then hurries to his pants to retrieve a condom. He’s shaking as he rolls it on and I know there’s no way he’s going to be able to hold me up again. Truth be told, as long as he f*cks me, I don’t care how he does it.

There’s no time to debate, so I just pull off my panties and bend over the arm of the couch. “Like this,” I tell him.

His brows raise. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Our previous encounters haven’t really given us the opportunity to do much more than face to face, a few hands sliding into pants whenever possible. We’ve never done it from behind or so much as tried oral, and when he eases into me I’m thinking about how much more time we need to do everything we haven’t done. Everything we want to do. Just everything, really.