Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
I’m still sitting on the counter but it’s a formality. His hands are under my ass, arms holding me up, angling me so that he can move in a way that makes us both gasp. There’s so much power behind each thrust, so much pent-up need coursing between us. For all my talk about enjoying sex, I’ve never been a noisy lover, but with Connor there isn’t room for anything else and there’s too much sensation to hold inside, it has to escape somehow. Sharp, rhythmic gasps. Surprised cries. The sound of our sweat-slick skin coming together. I hear myself and wonder at it, feeling half out of control of my own body and brain. Maybe I am. I don’t care. I’m not worried about anything, not wondering for a second if it’s good for him because the answer is written in the furrowed lines of his forehead, the soft bow of his lip as he stares between us, slowing to watch, moving to touch me, thumb stroking.
“Like that?” he asks quietly.
I nod, whispering, “Come here,” and pulling his face to mine.
We should take our time, but it’s hard when everything feels strung too tight inside, ready to snap. He reaches up, pressing a flattened hand to the cabinet beside my head, closing me in, watching me take over for his touch. Almost immediately, I’m falling.
I should hold back, but it’s too late. Pleasure hits me with euphoric devastation. I thought I’d only get this once; it was, after all, what I thought I needed. Just to clear my head of him.
But that was before. I mean, I’ve had all kinds of sex and this wasn’t like any of those experiences. I wish I knew what this was.
twenty-eight CONNOR
A perusal of my Google history from the early hours of Saturday morning will yield the following results:
Why sex with a coworker is bad
What to do if I slept with someone I shouldn’t have and it was great
How to avoid sleeping with someone you’re attracted to
How to avoid sleeping with someone twice
Can my boss fire me in California?
Producing jobs in San Diego
Producing jobs near San Diego
Jobs in San Diego
The effect of an absent father on daughters
Time machines
Unsurprisingly, none of these were much help.
I didn’t go to Fizzy’s intending to have sex. I went over wanting to celebrate a great first week of filming, to see what we could do better, see how we can make things more comfortable for her. But I also went over there already knowing that if I kissed her, she would kiss me back. And I went over there knowing that I want her intensely, have fallen a bit in love with her, and I don’t manage jealousy well. I wanted her to be mine, still. She’d been right, what she said at the beach; I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to share her once the show began.
In hindsight, I realize it was inevitable that we would have sex. And that sex inevitably would be messy, hard, tender, and spectacular. And now I am royally fucked, because all I can think about is doing it again.
* * *
A few hours before the premiere, I find Nat in my kitchen, where she’s opening a bottle of wine. None of the Heroes will be joining us tonight—they won’t spend any time with Fizzy that isn’t captured on film for the show—but most of the crew is here. A few have already descended on the extravagant catering spread set up out back (another budget perk), and the rest are chatting among themselves, anxiously waiting to see if our little show will be a hit or if we’ll all be looking for jobs tomorrow morning. There’s so much money being poured into this that, success or failure, the scale will be massive either way.
Fizzy should be here any minute, which is why I’m hovering in the kitchen doorway like a creep.
Nat must sense me behind her because she glances over her shoulder. “Hey,” she says, and pulls the cork free from the bottle.
I move to stand near the stove, not sure I want to have this conversation, but knowing I will go insane if I don’t talk to someone. “Hey.”
She reaches into one of the cabinets for a glass. “Where’s the kiddo?”
“In her room.” Stevie was prepared to wait in the front yard for Fizzy to show up, but I convinced her that Ocean Beach traffic is always bad this time of night, especially on the weekend. She relented but only after I promised I’d let her know the minute Fizzy arrived. “Who knew it only took a visit from Felicity Chen to get our daughter to finally clean in there?”
Nat snorts while she fills her wineglass. “Fizzy is a good sport. The hero worship is strong in our offspring.”
The reminder twists my stomach because it’s not just my life that will be affected if this all goes wrong, but Stevie’s, even Nat’s. We’ve never gone through this before, because I’ve never really been involved with someone. Not that we’re involved-involved, I remind myself. It was sex. People have sex every day.