Page 76 of Weather Girl

I barely let myself recover, still glowing from my orgasm as I peel off his boxer briefs. The sound he makes when I close my mouth around him is even hotter than I imagined it would be.

“Ari. Christ. That’s—that’s really good. Fuck, that’s good.”

He throws his head back, exposing his lovely throat. Swallowing hard. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m wondering how long it’s been since anyone touched him in this specific way, and it makes me want to make this even better for him. I take him deeper, swirling my tongue over the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste of him.

“Wait, wait,” he says, gently tugging at my hair. “I don’t want to—before we—”

I glance up, our eyes locking as we both realize what he means.

I straighten into a sitting position. “I have an IUD.” It’s not the sexiest of dirty talk, but at least it leaves no doubt as to what I want. “And I got tested last month. After our first date.”

“Me too. I mean—not the IUD part. The other part. Can you tell I’m nervous?”

Nervous Russell is the most endearing version of him. “Seems to be a common theme with us.”

“It’s good, though,” he assures me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Good nerves. The best kind.”

“So I take it this means you want to?” I ask, and he kisses the grin right off my face. Still, I pull back for another moment. “There’s one more thing I want to ask. This might sound presumptuous, but a few weeks ago, I put some lube in my purse. Just in case. Would you... be okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I can’t say I’ve had a ton of experience with it, but if you want to use it, then I’m game.”

“God, I like you.” I hurry to retrieve it from my bag out in Russell’s living room. When I get back to his bed, I tip a few drops into my palm, rubbing my hands together before I reach for him.

His head lolls back as I run my slickened hands up and down his shaft. “Well. I’m a big fan of lube, as it turns out.”

“Good.” I straddle him, my knees at his hips, kissing him long and deep.

“You’re gonna ride me?” he asks, gripping my ass, fingers digging into my skin. I’m addicted to the sexy-sloppiness of his words.

“If that’s okay.” I lift my hips, letting his cock nudge my entrance. Teasing. I’m aching and empty and so fucking needy, but I hold myself back, waiting for his yes. “I just—really want to see you lose control.”

A choked-sounding laugh. “Yes. Yes, it’s more than okay.”

When I reach down to guide him inside, he’s so warm and hard and right that I have to close my eyes for a moment. With nothing separating us, what I’m feeling is purely him. I let out a gasp right away, more at the shock of the sensation than anything else. My brain short-circuits, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being filled so completely, so perfectly. A pure and exquisite torture.

“You feel,” I say, “so goddamn good. God, I like you like this.”

“What, losing my mind because you’re so fucking sexy?” He hisses out a breath as I lift up slightly, then sink back down, finding a new, frenzied pace. “Because you tasted so good that I nearly fell apart when I was fucking you with my mouth?”

I cry out, pushing my hips forward so I can take him deeper. “Am I horrible if I say yes?”

It’s not just his surprisingly filthy mouth that I like. I like the way he asks me questions, the way he checks in with me. I like his soft kisses and his desperate ones. And I love watching him unravel, his eyes dark and pupils dilated, hair wild, his thumb rubbing dizzying circles just above where our bodies are joined.

And while he starts to shudder beneath me first, he makes he sure he takes me down with him.

“It isn’t always like this, is it?” he asks once our breathing has slowed.

“No,” I say, snuggling closer, draping an arm across his chest. “It isn’t always like this.”

•••

“YOU HAVE A working wood fireplace,” I say from the couch in his living room, a knitted throw draped across my legs. “I might just have to move in here.”

I expect it to create some weirdness because we’re nowhere near that stage in the relationship, but somehow it doesn’t. Maybe we’ve put all that discomfort behind us, and these new versions of Ari and Russ are the most mature yet.

“That was one of the reasons I fell in love with this house.” He reenters the room carrying two mismatched mugs of hot chocolate dotted with rainbow marshmallows. “Sorry about the marshmallows. You can guess who picked them out.”

“I love them.”

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