Her mouth moved, and “I want to fuck you” came out in a voice that belonged to someone she’d never met before. That woman gave orders and didn’t wait to see if they were followed.
The little moan he let out in response was perfect, one of those sounds Uma could get addicted to if she wasn’t careful. The challenge was to see how to get him to do it again. She shifted down his thighs to take hold of his stiff erection and squeezed, still awed by the thick heft of him. The weight was perfect. Even heavier than she remembered. After a few tight strokes, she let it smack back against him and moved off him to root around in the picnic basket. She found the strip of condoms and ripped one off with her teeth.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to do it like that.”
“Oh, yeah?” she taunted, using her teeth again to rip open the packet. “How am I supposed to do it?”
He didn’t respond as she leaned back and rolled the rubber down his shaft. They shuddered together.
“You ready?” he asked, even though she was clearly in charge.
“Are you?” Who the hell was this woman? A woman who got on top of a man and undressed him just enough to guide him inside her. What had happened to the old Uma, who always let other people’s personalities overshadow her own?
“Yeah, come on.” Ivan tugged at her waist, her ass, her hips, trying to move her without taking over. “I gotta fuck you, Uma.” The man sounded frantic. He didn’t wait for a response but pulled her back up, so their bodies lined up.
Her stupid brain went back to the first night she’d met Joey, how he’d cajoled her into having sex with him. It had been a true seduction, notquiteagainst her will, but not entirely what she’d wanted either. In hindsight, Joey must’ve gotten off on the coercion, the surrender, the ambiguity of her consent. There’d been none of this urgency, none of this raw need—so honest, sofuckingreal.
Ivan’s cock nudged her, seeking entry from below, and she came back to the present with a slight Joey hangover. Suddenly needing to know she really could stop this anytime she needed. “Stop!”
Ive stilled, sank back down. Not impatient or angry at all.
“I just…” She turned, swallowed, and blinked away the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. “Why’re you so nice to me?”
“I like you.”
Oh.Uma tried to pause her ever-racing mind.
That simple, huh? He liked her, so he showed it. No games, no denial, no manipulation, no bullshit.He likes me, she thought, barely comprehending the simplicity of it all.He likes me.
“I, um…I like you too, Ivan.”
“Good.” His boyish, excited smile was barely visible in the dark, but it brought a jolt of worry, shadowed by guilt.I’m going to hurt this guy.
“You’re thinkin’ too much, Uma.”
He was right.
She was about to have sex in the back of a pickup, and instead of enjoying it, here she was, worrying—again.
Enough. It was time to let go and enjoy the moment. No Joey, no worries—nothing to get between her and this man so hell-bent on having her. She let herself feel, really feel, the point where their naked skin came together.
Planting her hands firmly on his chest, Uma leaned forward, filled with the anticipation of what she was about to do. She lifted up onto her knees and reached beneath her. There he was, hot and willing, and before she could think too hard about the last time she’d done this—
No, not the last timeshehad done this. Tonight had nothing to do with the last time she’d been penetrated. But she wouldn’t think about that right now. She refused to remember it.
Instead, she took him firmly in hand, lined him up with her body, and worked him, slow and steady, inside her. Her breath hitched once when the fit was too tight, and she paused. They stopped—breathing, listening, waiting for the other to put a halt to everything. He didn’t. She didn’t. Somewhere close by, something hooted.
Ivan flexed.
“Don’t move,” she managed. “Give me a second? Just—”
He held himself utterly still inside her, his self-control palpable, and she loved him a little bit for that restraint.
Perhaps more than a little.
Suddenly, she remembered a time with Joey. It was a hotel room in Atlanta where he’d gone for a conference. She’d gone along for fun, and ithadbeen fun. Good food and music. She’d taken a ton of photos there. But it was the sex that came back to her. Their hotel room had been equipped with a jumbo mirror, which, if you happened to have sex on the desk, provided quite a perspective. The thing was, Uma had only noticed the mirror halfway into it. She’d turned her head and taken in the way Joey’s body had slammed into hers from behind, the quick, mechanical piston of his hips. She’d stared at where their bodies came together and gotten turned on.
Her eyes had wandered up his body, to his face. With a jolt, Uma had realized Joey wasn’t staring at her body or their bodies together. He’d been mesmerized by himself. His own face, his own muscles. Like a scene straight out ofAmerican Psycho, the man she was having sex with was more interested in flexing for the mirror than sharing anything of consequence with her.
