“One more,” I tell her.
“I can’t,” she says.
“You will.” I push back inside her, and she instantly responds to me. “Making up for lost time.”
I hook her legs over my shoulders and fold her nearly in half; this position lets me go impossibly deep. I fuck her so good that I think she might break, and even though she said she couldn’t come again, I notice the expression on her face.
“It feels different,” she mutters. “It’s warm and—oh, fuck. Patterson …”
Her protests turn into moans, moans turn into whimpers, whimpers turn into my name repeated over and over like a prayer.
“Patterson. Yes, yes, yes. More.”
Her entire body tenses up. I’m close now too. My balls tighten as that familiar pressure builds at the base of my spine.
She breaks at the same moment I do, her pussy clamping down on my cock as I empty myself into the condom with a groan that tears out of my chest. The orgasm whites out my vision, and I collapse on top of her, both of us shaking and breathing like we ran a marathon.
“Fuck,” she breathlessly cries out as I continue to pump into her.
The sheets are soaked from her squirting all over my cock.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, in her bed, ruined together, before I roll off her and dispose of the condom in the bathroom. When I come back, she hasn’t moved, just lies there, staring at the ceiling with that glazed expression that makes me want to climb right back on top of her.
Instead, I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for my jeans.
“I really fucking hate you,” I say. This ritual almost feels complete.
“I hate you too.” She grins, wrecked beyond recognition. “So, so, so fucking much.”
“Keep it that way.”
I pull on my clothes, aware of her eyes on my back, aware of how easy it would be to stay. To curl around her and sleep and wake up and do this all over again. That’s not what this is though. That’s not the arrangement.
“For the next away stretch.” Her voice stops me as I’m reaching for my shirt. “Philly, DC, Chicago. I’m traveling with the team.”
I turn to look at her. She’s pulled the sheet up to cover herself, which seems ridiculous after what we did.
I process that she’ll be on the road with me across three cities and multiple nights.
“Make sure our rooms connect,” I demand.
She blinks and tilts her head at me. “How am I supposed to?—”
“Figure it out.” I pull my shirt over my head. “You’re smart.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“And you came several times, so I don’t think you actually mind.” I lean down and pull her bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it before pulling away.
“I hate that you have so much control over me.”
“No, you don’t. You enjoy it.”
I leave without looking back because if I do, I might stay and fuck her until the sun rises.
When I step onto her street, I take a breath that feels different.
This was supposed to be fucking her out of my system and burning off the tension. I want to get her out of my blood so I can move on. But as I climb into the back of the car with the taste of her still on my tongue and scratches still stinging my back, I already know that won’t happen.
