Page 12 of Rumi: The Hawthornes

“Got it,” I replied as he stripped off his jeans and boxers.

I’d seen Rumi naked before plenty of times, and I’d gotten a good look at him fully erect when I was drunk the night before. Seeing him sober was a whole different thing.

We weren’t drunk and acting stupid anymore.Well, maybe we were still acting stupid, I thought as he climbed onto the bed.

“Lean up,” he ordered, reaching behind me to unhook my bra. I fell back down onto the comforter as he pulled it off my arms.

“You’ve always been pretty,” he said, almost to himself as he ran the tips of his fingers from my neck to my collarbone. “But, fuck me, naked, you might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His fingers found my nipples and pinched lightly, then brushed over the tips.

“Please, Rumi, harder,” I whispered, my lips twitching.

The smile fell off my face when he did what I’d asked, pinching them tightly until it was just short of painful.

“Careful what you ask for,” he said jokingly, leaning down to kiss them better.

There was something different about having sex with someone that you trusted implicitly because sex with Rumi was better than I’d ever had before. When I needed something I demanded it, not worrying about what he’d think of me later and when he needed something, he let his guard down and asked for it and I was pretty sure that was new for him too.

The first condom broke as he was trying to put it on and we laughed, which was surprising in the best way because it didn’t dull the urgency any. When he finally got a condom on and slid inside, he groaned in my ear, and I let out a huff of laughter, but it didn’t last because seconds later, I was gasping.

I’d kind of thought that the memory from the night before had been rose-colored from the booze, but after two orgasms, I had to concede that I’d been remembering it correctly. Honestly, as Rumi rolled me to my belly and pulled my hips up, patiently smoothing his hand over my back as he waited for me to get my boneless legs to cooperate, I knew that sober sex was even better.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, kissing the back of my neck.

I nodded and gripped the pillows as he pressed forward. I was sore. I was tired. I was oversensitive. But as Rumi’s fingers threaded through mine, I knew it would never be too much.

“One more time, yeah?” he whispered, pulling one of his hands from mine.

“I don’t think I can,” I breathed, jerking as his hand slid down my belly.

“I’ll be careful,” he said, biting my shoulder softly. He chuckled as my muscles clenched.

It only took a couple minutes of Rumi’s fingers pressed against my clit and the steady rhythm of his hips before he was throwing me over the edge again, the feeling so sharp it was almost painful. I screamed.

“Fuck, yes,” he hissed, his hips jerking as he came with me.

I barely moved as he slid out and gently laid me down on the bed, running his hands down the backs of my thighs. I lay there in a daze as he left me to take care of the condom, but by the time he crawled back in bed beside me, some of my wits had reappeared.

After six years of platonic friendship, we’d gone into this with eyes wide open and now we needed to figure out what the fuck we were going to do.

I lifted my head and sniffed, distracted. “Did you put deodorant on?” I asked as he slid his arm under me.

“Yeah.” He grinned at me.

“Why?”

“Because I was sweaty and stinkin’.”

“You weren’t stinkin’.” My eyes widened. Was this like one of those times that you put a piece of gum in your mouth and then offered it to the other person becausetheyhad stinky breath? I tilted my head and smelled my own armpit.

“You smell like a fuckin’ dream,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh, please.”

“A wet dream,” he joked, his eyes twinkling.

“I just worked all day.”

“Yeah, and you smelled like Nova,” he said with a shrug, pulling me against his chest. “And now you smell like Nova and sex. Perfect combo.”

---