Page 95 of The Best Part of Breaking Up

24.

We make love in a way I never have. Slow, sensual, like he’s moving inside my very soul. He hooks my thigh around his hip, tugging me under him, against him. His thrusts are deliberate and careful, and he watches, gauging my every reaction.

“You’re still coming aren’t you?” he breathes.

I manage a strangled nod. Every time I think I’ve stopped, he angles just right, and I’m pulsing with pleasure again. And again. Until I can see the war waging on his face. All of his muscles go tight as I pull him out of me, letting him finish across my belly in deliciously sticky lines. I run my fingers through it as he kisses me, reveling in the slick feel of him across my skin. I have never felt so good.

Everything feels good. The way he collapses beside me in the too-small bed. The way I curl against him, tugging at his bottom lip with pleasure-drunk kisses. He drags a hand up to frame my face, tracing the lines where my tears have dried.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

“I’ve never been more okay than this,” I say.

“Let me get you a towel,” he says.

I snag my arms around his neck. “No. Stay.”

His gaze dances across my features. He smooths another stray lock of hair away from my face. So far tonight I’ve been caught in a rainstorm, dunked in a pool, and fucked within an inch of my life. I’m sure I probably look horrendous, and I don’t care. I smile when I catch him staring.

“Do you wanna talk about this?” he asks.

“Tomorrow,” I say. “Tonight, we’re on vacation. Okay?”

He smirks. “More than okay.”

In the next instant he sits up, careful not to knock his head against the top bunk. He tugs me to my feet and hoists me up, with my legs wrapped around his middle and my arms around his neck. I feel melty and weightless as he carries me towards the door.

I giggle in spite of myself. “Where are we going?”

Though the hallway is pitch dark, it feels scandalous to have him carry me – naked – out of our room. Three feet later, he ducks into the bathroom and nudges the door closed with his foot.

“Shower.” He lowers me to my feet, removing his hands from my body only so he can reach into the tile stall and start the water. “I’m going to clean you up. Then I’m going to get you all dirty again.”

I bite my bottom lip, holding onto my smile. “I love this side of you.”

“Good,” he says, with a fiery gleam in his eyes. “Because it’s all yours. Anytime you want it.”

My heart thuds in my chest. Steam quickly begins to fill up the small space. I watch him test the temperature with his wrist, making minor adjustments.

“Anytime?” I ask.

It’s foreign, how uncharacteristically husky and hopeful my voice sounds. I recognize it for what it is. I’m vulnerable. And not just because I’m standing in front of him, completely naked.

“Add it to the contract,” he says. His eyes are playful, but his voice is dark and sincere. He snags my hands and tugs me into the shower with him, kissing me deeply. “I’m all yours.”

***

I wake up with daylight, and the room is a navy blue blur. I sit up so quickly that I smack my head on the top bunk. I hold my head and groan as I blink at the fuzzy shapes around me.

I’ve gone blind for my transgressions, I think. This is like a fucking Greek tragedy.

I realize, belatedly, that I haven’t actually gone blind. My outdated contacts have officially rolled into the back of my eyes. Or fallen out. I groan again.

I gather clothes off the floor that I hope are mine and tug my way into them. Cautiously, I feel my way down the hallway towards the smell of coffee and bacon, which I hope will lead me towards the kitchen. It’s no surprise that Quentin sees me before I see him.

“‘Morning. You… need some help?” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice, but I definitely can’t make it out. It gets a little clearer as he moves closer. “I know round three was probably ill-advised, but I didn’t expect you to wake up literally unable to walk straight.”

I want to laugh, but I bite into my smile and shake my head.

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