Page 96 of The Liar's Reckoning

“Look,” I say. “You were telling me shit you worry about, I figured the floor was open.”

“Is it weird for you? To have sex with strangers?”

The question pricks my skin and puts my nerves on edge. I wouldn’t mind if he were jealous. I’m even prepared for him to ask me to quit. But I can’t tell what his angle is. I only know there is one. I prop myself up on an elbow, keeping my leg across his. My cock is pressed against his hip and the sensation is stirring, even though this conversation isn’t exactly getting me hard.

“It was weird at first,” I tell him. “I’d never really been with anybody much older than me before. That part’s still kinda jarring sometimes.”

“It’s not always someone new though, right?” he asks.

“No, but a regular for me is someone I’ll see maybe a few times a year.”

“Do you know who they are? Like their real names? What they do?”

I nod.

“But mostly it’s strangers? Like me?”

“You were different,” I tell him.

He rolls his eyes again, his expression telegraphing that he thinks I’m full of shit.

I laugh. “You don’t have to believe me, but you were goodlooking, close to my age,anda virgin. Also, you were kind of a talker with a good story.”

“I guess I’m glad you remember, although sometimes I wish you didn’t.”

“And the sex was really fucking good.”

“I’m never gonna believe you about that, so you can quit saying it.”

Leaning in, I press my mouth to his neck, licking the stubbled skin and closing my lips in a kiss. “Sometimes two people just fit,” I tell him.

I feel his hands on my body, exploring the dips and curves. My dick perks up, making me think we should have moved to the bed when he originally asked. The couch is fun for a couple rounds, but the bed is better for the way I want to spend the rest of the night with him. He can sleep when he gets to Washington.

“Bed,” he whispers in my ear.

“What the fuck am I gonna do without you for the next three weeks?”

“Text me.” His hand moves lightly over my ass. “Call me.”

“Miss you,” I sigh.

“Come see me?”

I grin into his skin. “Maybe.”

“Please,” he says, drawing the word out as he presses our bodies together in a long, slow squeeze.

“Is there enough room on your office cot for me?”

“If you don’t mind sleeping with me inside you.”

I shiver at the thought—at the memory of the night we did exactly that. Repeatedly waking up to being fucked, again and again.

“We’ll make it work,” I promise him.

He hauls me on top of him. “Okay, fuck the bed.”

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