She pointed to her suitcase. “Same thing I’ve done every night since meeting you—drain a set of AAs and try not to scream your name so loud you could hear me.”
She leaned over him and pressed her lips to his, slowing down a beat so she could fully enjoy the way his hands explored her body while she tasted every inch of him.
“Get rid of these,” she whined, snapping the waistband of his boxers.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, lifting her off of him and tossing them to the side. There was no doubt how badly he wanted her too.
Milo pulled her back over his lap, holding her hips and pushing them in circles over the length of him, the most delicious bass notes rolling from his throat as she sucked on the stubbly skin beneath that laser-cut jaw.
“Hanna,” Milo said.
“Please, don’t change your mind,” she pleaded.
“As much as I love hearing you beg, we have a problem.”
She leaned back, resting her hands on his chest. “What?”
“All my condoms are in my room.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you think Brendon was putting out this weekend?”
“Brandon,” Milo corrected. “And I planned on taking you back to my room when the guys took off for the club! I hadn’t factored Logan’s bullshit into the night.”
Hanna rolled her hips forward, a slow friction sparking between them.
“Am I an idiot if I say I don’t give a shit?”
Milo grinned against the side of her face. “Totally your call, Arizona.”
“I’m on the pill,” she amended.
“Aligned,” he chirped, digging his hands into her hips and lifting them over his lap. He hesitated for a second, the silence between them painful.
She twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled so his eyes caught hers. She could see all of the same thoughts that plagued her mind reflected in his half-lidded gaze, the same dread that pooled in her stomach.
They could fool themselves all they wanted into believing they could just be for the weekend. Just be there. That the heartbreak would be the same, so it didn’t matter.
She ran a thumb over his cheek.
“It’s already too late for us,” she whispered. “We can’t fuck ourselves out of it, Milo.”
It was the closest she could come to saying how she felt out loud.
His eyes closed, and he pushed into her palm, one hand crawling her back and tangling into her hair, still half-up from dinner.
“Flight home problem,” he mumbled, guiding her hips over him. The tension in her back melted as he claimed his space, sliding so far into her she gasped.
“I’m sorry for how fast this is about to be,” he said, his voice strained. “I promise I will make it up to you.”
His hands pushed her hips again, setting a pace that stopped any lingering thoughts that might have been rolling around in her head. She stretched around him, soft sounds slipping from both their throats.
It wasn’t the distraction she needed.
It was a whole new set of devastating problems.
It was a perversion of the highest order, a total betrayal of all their agreements.
It was?—
