My heart sank. I shouldn’t be doing this. It wasn’t why I’d come. Tonight was supposed to be about answers. About distance. About doing the smart thing. But reason vanished the second his mouth touched mine, and whatever resolve I had dissolved with it.
Scott must have sensed the shift. His fingers traced my cheek again as he said, “Whatever this is… It’s real for me.”
I fought back the emotion. He didn’t mean to wreck me with that line. But he did. Because I knew I’d never recover from him.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Want to stop?”
No, I didn’t want to stop. But yes, we needed to. Because nothing contradicted a breakup conversation more than letting him ravish me minutes before I walked away.
My mouth opened, then snapped shut. I nodded… then shook my head.
His brow creased. “I can’t read your cues, Gold Coast.”
Not a surprise, considering I was giving him the emotional equivalent of static noise.
So I did the only thing that made sense—I grabbed his face and kissed him. It was clear and unmistakable, and it erased every mixed signal I’d thrown at him. Scott stood and swept meup, his skin hot against mine as he carried me the couple of feet to the mattress on the floor. No bed frame, no rules. Just the two of us in a world stripped bare.
My back met the thin mattress and he was on me again in an instant, his lips devouring mine, heat crashing over me in relentless waves. My hands flew to his shirt, and I tugged it over his head in one smooth yank, revealing the hard planes of his chest.
Scott didn’t wait for me to play. His hand slid from my jaw, trailing fire down the column of my throat, over the quick flutter of my pulse, then lower—skimming the curve of my breast, the dip of my waist—until his fingers slipped beneath the hem and between my legs. My body arched into his touch like it remembered every secret place he’d learned last night. Pushing aside my panties, he parted me gently at first, then with growing intent, fingertips gliding through slick warmth in slow, teasing circles that made my breath hitch and my hips lift off the mattress.
Heat bloomed low in my belly, coiling tighter with every stroke. I felt myself open for him again, my inner walls quivering as he pressed one finger inside, then two, curling just right until sparks flashed behind my eyelids. He kissed me again—deeper this time—while his hand worked me with relentless pressure, building me higher until my thighs trembled and the coil inside snapped. I shattered against his palm in pulsing waves, crying out against his mouth, body clenching and releasing in helpless spasms that left me shaking, breathless, boneless beneath him.
Breathing hard against my lips, he asked, “You still with me?”
“Barely.”
He pulled a condom from somewhere and handed it to me. My pulse thundered in my temples as I rolled it down his length, feeling every thick inch of him pulse under my fingers. Then I parted my legs and guided him in.
He didn’t ease in this time—just pressed deep in one decisivethrust. A sharp sting flared low in my belly, stealing my breath, but his hands steadied me, thumbs stroking my hips as I adjusted to the full, burning stretch. The pain ebbed fast, replaced by heavy, aching fullness that made my toes curl against his calves. I felt myself open around him, until he was buried to the hilt.
We stilled there, breathing hard. His heartbeat hammered against my breastbone; mine answered in frantic counterpoint. Then he moved—slow at first, unhurried drags that rocked me into the thin mattress. Each withdrawal left me aching, each thrust filled me, slick and hot and overwhelming. His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing just enough to spark heat down my spine. I tipped my head back, nails biting into his shoulders as he drove deeper, harder, the rhythm building until the room filled with the wet sounds of us and our ragged breaths.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He groaned against my throat, and the sound vibrated through me, coiling the pleasure tighter. I rolled my hips up to meet him. The angle shifted; he hit something deep inside that sent white sparks of desire through me. A low, keening sound tore from my throat. I shattered around him in blinding pulses, crying out against his mouth as my body clenched in rhythmic spasms.
He slowed for a heartbeat, then thrust deeper, followed by a shuddering groan as he came. We collapsed together, tangled and slick, chests heaving. His weight pinned me to the mattress; I could feel every aftershock ripple through him, echoing in my own body.
He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my nose and rested his forehead against mine. My fingers slid into his tangled hair, and suddenly my heart felt like a wounded bird. A tear slipped down my cheek. Scott saw it instantly. His eyes darkened with something I couldn’t name.
“Don’t say it.” He rolled on his back, laying an arm over hisface. “I already know.”
“Okay,” I breathed. “I won’t.”
He nodded once, and we lay there side by side in heavy, unspoken devastation. When I finally stood, the reluctance in my movements said what I wouldn’t.
“I never had a chance, did I?” he said. “You were always going to leave.”
His anger froze me in place.
“You know that’s not true.”
“Do I?”
Feeling shaken, I stepped into my panties and adjusted my dress—which had miraculously stayed on—back into place.
“What do you want me to say, Scott?”
“That you’ll stay.” His voice held a challenge. “That you’ll ditch the country clubs, the cocktail parties, and stop pretending to be something you’re not.”
