And so her old coffee table was shoved to the side somewhat recklessly, the plant she’d placed on it almost crashing to the ground until Mae caught it at the last second. Jeans and leggings were hastily pushed off, shirts thrown to the side, until Mae and Dell were once more resting on a rug in 12 Main Street, making bad choices for their backs.
“On top,” Dell breathed, grabbing Mae by the hips as they rolled into position. “I need you on top of me.”
Dell’s hands and mouth were everywhere—squeezing her ass, teeth grazing her skin, tongue swirling around her nipples, sucking, beard tickling. Mae moved against him, rubbed her clit against the length of him before he fumbled for a condom, before she placed him at her entrance; she was a breath away from screaming the entire time. “I’m so—I’m going to come in like five seconds.” She sank onto him with a groan.
“Already,” Dell breathed, “halfway there.”
“Imissedyou,” she panted, digging her fingers into his stomach, his breasts, his good shoulder.
“Fucking kiss me,” Dell demanded. And so she did, swiftly too distracted by the heat of his mouth, her own sloppy desires to keep up any sort of respectable rhythm, but Dell took over without complaint, thrusting into her as their mouths clashed, as she emptied her cries onto his tongue.
“So good,” she whispered, body no longer under her control. It had always been so good with Dell.
“So fucking good,” he agreed, suddenly fisting a hand into her hair, fingers of his other hand sliding between their bodies, rubbing her just there, and?—
Oh god oh god
She dropped her face to his shoulder, mouth open on his skin, all words knocked out of her. Distantly, she felt his fingers in her hair tighten, his body stutter beneath hers as they went still, tight tight tight and then loose, so fucking loose and hot and wet.
“Fuck.” Dell’s arms flopped to his sides. His chest moved underneath her mouth, a swelling inhale and release. “Mae. Fuck.”
“Dell. Oh god I needed that so bad.”
A rumble of laughter underneath her cheek.
“Me too.” A kiss in her hair, before his head thudded back to the rug. “I’ll do it more sensually next time.”
“Mm,” Mae mumbled. “Only if you really want to.”
Another laugh, more relaxed.
Mae was never going to move again.
Except then Dell was nudging her shoulder.
“Mae,” he whispered. “I have to pee.”
Dell was truly the worst sometimes.
But she supposed she forgave him when he came back up the stairs a few minutes later, clad in a white T-shirt and black briefs, the roots of a tree spreading down his thigh, covering a scar he’d never deserved.
And he was still laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked as she pulled on her leggings, only slightly grumpily, to go follow suit.
“The bathroom,” he said. “I forgot about Jesus’s bathroom.”
She smiled then.
“It’s gotten many compliments.”
“I’m sure it has.”
He kissed her on the mouth, short and sweet as she passed. The kind of short and sweet you shared when you had time. When you weren’t worried about getting to do it again.
When she returned to his side five minutes later, wrapping an arm around his stomach, a leg around his thigh, her cheek nestled onto his shoulder, the last words she needed to say tumbled free.
“I was so sad when you sold me this building.”
