Just skin, breath, my lower back against the hard wall of his abs, the slap of his hips against my ass, and that delicious stretch of being full of him. Over and over.
My second orgasm hit before I could catch my breath from the first. I gasped his name, and he wove his fingers into the back of my hair, pulling until my head tipped back to rest against his collarbone. “Yes, come hard for me, Ruby. Fuck, you’re even tighter like that,” he rasped low into my ear and let me hear him coming with a groan that undid me even harder.
We stood there for a beat, still joined, breaths ragged, hearts pounding, his arms holding me.
Then he stepped back, tucked himself away, and handed me a tissue from a box on the counter like this was any other day.
Which it was. For us.
It was perfect just like that. And that was the problem.
Perfect things didn’t last forever.
4
Sebastian
RUBY FACED ME NOW,standing close, wiping herself with the tissue without removing her eyes from mine. She then leaned closer, her lips hovering close to mine. We were still catching our breaths, and she was already teasing me again. But then she bent and pulled up her panties and jeans, forcing me to step further back.
Straightening up, she moved around the kitchen like nothing had happened, tying her disheveled hair up again.
She looked efficient. Unbothered.
But after this many years, I knew. I knew that our fucking moved something in her, and she needed a moment to file it away.
After all, so did I.
I stayed quiet, still catching my breath, putting my shirt back on.
What I didn’t tell her was what I’d seen in her planner.
I wasn’t looking for anything, just collecting data to assess the renovation timeline. But there it was—one of the cabins blocked out for two hours the night before I arrived.
No name. No guest count. No maintenance note. Just a two-hour blackout.
I realized instinctively it was her code. Blocked slot, nighttime, no staff note. That wasn’t plumbing.
That was a man.
Likely someone who tried too hard, lost her interest fast, and would never hear from her again.
And based on how she’d responded to me just now, he hadn’t done a good job, or any at all.
I shouldn’t care. We weren’t anything. That was the rule—herrule.
But that cabin block stuck in my head, made something in me knot so tightly I had to grip her and remind her whatthiswas. WhoIwas. How I knew her. Because whoever else there was, she always ended up here withme.Needingme.
Not because of feelings. That wasn’t her style.
But because this thing between us had a force neither one of us could explain.
I didn’t say any of that. This setup has worked great for us so far. I had Ruby when I came home—sometimes I came homejustfor Ruby. I had the job I wanted, the name I’d built, the focus I’d fought to protect. And if I needed to scratch the itch in between, I dated women who wanted the same—no ties, no mess.
Only lately, the thrill of it all was dulling. Promotions and new projects weren’t hitting the same. I’d find myself looking for conversation and connection with the dwindling number of women I hung out with. But no one hit the same wavelength.
No one but her.
I should have seen it coming, but I wasn’t prepared for it.
