Neither of them spoke. The only sounds were that of two people who had had enough of the world and were taking solace in what their bodies could provide.
A release.
Two people who were, for the first time in forever, enjoying the act of sex for what it was. Not for what it should be. Or what it once was. But just letting it…be.
His hand found her heat while his mouth never left her own.
She dropped her head onto the pillow, her eyes rolling backward as he massaged circles with his thumb—bringing her to the edge and letting her feel everything he felt.
His drunken gaze caught hers, his eyes dilated a tad too much, his breathing just a bit too shallow—just like hers. There was no henna tattoo. There was no broken engagement. There was no Las Vegas.
There was him.
There was her.
There was no condom.
Shit.
She pushed at his shoulders. “Condom.”
“I prefer to be called Eli.” He went back to kissing her.
Gah, no, he didn’t get it. “We need a condom. It’s in my bra.”
He pulled back, his lips swollen and red from kissing. Her lipstick was smeared across his mouth.
She wiped at it with the pad of her thumb.
“We need a condom,” she repeated.
His expression turned confused, and then, like a rubber band snapping back into itself, some memory seemed to fall into place. He lifted off of her, standing from the bed.
And that was that. Rejected twice in one day. She was just butter on a roll.
She pinched her eyes closed. If he left now, she’d fall apart. Disintegrate on the spot. There was no twelve-step life plan that could help her recover from the rejection.
But no. No, she wouldn’t fall apart. After everything life had thrown at her, she’d kept it together. She wouldn’t fall apart now.
Peeling open her eyelids, she followed his movements across the cheap motel room to her bra. He held up the tuxedo condom like he’d bet on red and the roulette ball just fell into the crimson slot. He started back toward the bed, a silly grin she’d never expected pasted on his lips. He paused and grabbed his wallet, pulling another condom from inside.
“Are we planning to have a big night tonight, Mr. Howard?” She giggled.
He crawled back over her on the bed, depositing the two condoms on the pillow. “I am, Mrs. H.”
Her heart seemed to get warm at the sort-of endearment.
Then, Eli Howard did something she never would’ve expected. He chuckled and nuzzled her neck, right where her pulse kicked in the veins underneath her skin. His body was warm, they were both drunk, and his hands were exploring the skin along her ribcage up to her breasts.
She pulled his lips to hers. “No time for slow.”
“Aye, captain.” He shucked off his pants and she got a solid look at Eli naked.
Eli was impressive with clothes on. Without them? She shivered, spreading her thighs in invitation.
He handled the tuxedo condom and, dressed in his formal best, he drove home—hitting all the right spots and lighting her up like a firecracker.
If this was being married, then she could get used to it.
