He slammed his mouth onto mine. There was no talking after that, save for a few passionate words exchanged between staccato breaths. Later, long after he made me come twice—once on his cock and then again with his tongue and fingers—did he speak again.
"So . . ."
"So . . ." I echoed.
"So, where do we go from here, blondie?" he whispered into my hair.
I chewed my lip, strumming my fingers through the thin layer of hair that blanketed his chest. "Back to Atlanta, I suppose. We have a car to return."
"You know that's not what I meant."
The colorful hues of sunlight were already starting to creep in through the motel room's blinds. We were both going to feel like leftover garbage tomorrow. Even orgasms couldn't make up for a sleepless night.
I tilted my head back, my stomach doing somersaults when I met his steady gaze. "We said we would cut things off when the season started."
He chuckled. "And look how that turned out."
I stroked the stubble on his chin. "Tonight was amazing, and I really appreciate you being here with me, but—"
"No buts." He squeezed my ass. "Unless we're talking about me fucking yours."
My fingers stopped. My heart might have, too.
"Do you like that idea, blondie?" Soren purred. "Me fucking your ass?"
"I don't know," I told him, surprising us both. "Maybe."
"We should add it to the list."
It unnerved me that he could be so cool and cavalier about this. Not the anal sex stuff, though I hadn't given that much thought until now, but our relationship. Maybe "situationship" was a more appropriate term.
"Soren . . ."
"I get it," he said. "Tonight can just be a one-time thing, if that's what you want."
Curse this man for always having the decency to ask what I want.
He was so good about attending to my wants and needs. For the first time, I didn't have the heart to tell him what I actually wanted. Instead, I lied.
"It is," I told him, my mouth suddenly dry.
If he didn't believe me, it didn't show. Not in his dark, stormy eyes nor the line of his lips. Instead, he cradled my hand in his, kissing each of my fingers one by one. Slowly, preciously.
"I understand."
I was caught between a rock and a hard place, aka my head and my heart, respectively. On the one hand, there was no denying the connection between Soren and me. On the other, I had already had a lifetime of being known as someone's daughter or fiancée. Just once, I wanted to be my own person, without having somebody else's name attached to me.
"I think it's best if we walk away before things get messy." He pressed his lips together and raised his brows. "Okay, messier than they already are. I owe you one, by the way. Facing my parents is no easy feat."
"I thought you handled them perfectly."
"Really?"
"Better than I would have." He fixed me with heady stare. "Better than they deserve."
I believed him with every fiber of my being. That was more than I could say about my ex-fiancé. In the four years that I dated Walden, he had never spoken with such confidence or conviction. He certainly had never said anything that went against my parents or their wishes.
"Thank you," I told him. "For everything."
