Page 39 of The Write Off

He starts to move faster, his hips pistoning in me relentlessly while his mouth gives me sweet words of encouragement. I moan and writhe beneath him, not knowing how much I can take and yet never wanting it to end.

“You feel so good, Rilla…too good…give me one more, please.”

I’m coming again, hard, before he even stops talking. My body shudders violently and I fall into oblivion again. The waves keep hitting me until finally Logan stills and collapses on top of me. I’m pinned to the mattress by his massive trembling form as we both struggle for breath.

“I guess you were right,” I barely manage to get out.

He lifts his head from my shoulder, staring down at me intently. “About what?”

“We do work well together.”

Chapter 19

Logan

I once took a class back in college where we discussed the invention of the printing press. The prof referred to it as a watershed moment. She then went on to explain that watershed moment is an idiom that refers to an important event that changes the direction of history. Some of these events are important to the entire world, while others are significant to smaller populations or even individuals.

Sex with Rilla is definitely a watershed moment for me.

I know without a doubt that being with her tonight will have a lasting impact on the rest of my existence. It may very well change the very trajectory of my journey through life.

I should continue this philosophical journey of self discovery sometime when I’m not lying on top of her.

The moment I roll onto my side, Rilla is out of bed and moving. I watch her grab a handful of clothes from a nearby basket on her bedroom floor and disappear into the hallway. The bathroom door closes a moment later.

Not a cuddler, I guess.

I stand up too quickly causing the blood to rush to my head. My heart is still racing from the almost crippling orgasm I just had. I sit back on the bed while I get my balance back, removing the condom and throwing it into a waste basket by her bed. Grabbing my discarded boxer briefs from the floor and slipping them on, I then proceed to gather the rest of my clothing, piece by piece. I take advantage of my newfound solitude and try to figure out what comes next.

I’ve had one-night stands before; what happened tonight, the intimacy shared in this room obliterated them all. Every breath, every gasp, every sigh spoke more than words ever could. I’ve never felt such a powerful connection to another person. Time itself seemed to slow as we explored each other’s bodies and nuances. The way we challenged one another for control was both thrilling and oddly comforting. There was a vulnerability in her I’ve never seen and a raw desire I’ve never felt.

Yes, she drives me crazier than I ever thought possible. She finds buttons on me I didn’t know I had and pushes them with a smile on her face. Every time I’m with her, she peels back another layer, unraveling the carefully constructed walls I’ve spent years building with effortless ease. She is a tempest, a force of nature that defies explanation, leaving me teetering on the edge of sanity and somehow still wanting more. When I’m with her, logic succumbs to desire, and rationality becomes a distant memory. Will being with her complicate my life in ways I might not be prepared for? Almost certainly.

I’m not naive. I know that pursuing whatever this thing between us is might not be easy, but trying to fight what I’m feeling for her would be so much harder. Why exhaust myself trying to swim against the tide when I can choose to let go and see where the currents take me?

It didn’t feel like a single event, but a beginning and an important one at that. But given Rilla’s swift exit, I fear it may be over before it’s truly started.

I don’t want it to be over.

I’m pulling my shirt over my head when she returns wearing shorts and an oversized tee. Her face is flushed and her chestnut curls are wild and as untamed as she is. She’s so beautiful it steals my breath. How is it possible that I just had her and still want her so badly? Seeing her delivers a pang of longing that borders on pain. I want nothing more than to pick her up and pin her to the bed again.

“I’ll walk you out,” she says brightly. She’s hiding behind a veil of indifference as though we didn’t just alter both of our existences as we know it.

Still, I follow her down the now dark hallway I carried her through not long ago. The movie is still playing on the tv, the characters appearing to be engaged in battle.

“Long movie,” I say in a lame attempt at conversation. “Is the little guy about to destroy the ring?”

“God, no. His journey’s just beginning. There are two more movies to get through.” She hands me my coat from the closet as I shove my feet into my shoes. I take the coat from her and before I can think of the right thing to say, she opens the door and says, “So I’ll see you around?”

I flinch like she’s landed a physical blow. She’s being so nonchalant, and even though, deep down, I know this is her way of protecting herself, it still hurts.

“Um…yes. Absolutely.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool.” She nods, clearly ready to put this awkward goodbye behind her. As I walk through the door, hesitantly, she adds, “Well…drive safe.”

“You too.” Idiot. “I mean, thank you. I will.”

She smiles and gives me a nervous little wave before closing the door in my face.

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