Only then he’s moving me to the center of the bed and devouring my mouth. I kiss him desperately, tasting myself on him and loving the taste of us.
“I can’t wait,” Edgar says, his voice tight.
“Then don’t.” Then, in case he doesn’t have a rubber, I add breathlessly, “I’m on the pill.” There’s no way either one of us is leaving here without my feeling him inside.
I don’t think he heard what I said about the birth control. He reaches into a drawer next to the bed and pulls out a few condoms. His belt buckle comes undone, the zipper hissing. He doesn’t even undress himself fully before putting on the condom. And I don’t care, because I can’t wait to have him inside and come around his gorgeous cock. I’ll strip him and have my way with him later.
“Now,” I say, panting. “Put your cock in me.”
He obliges, driving into me, and it feels a million times better than I imagined. He’s so big, pulsing and throbbing, and his face is tight above me, control and sexual need battling for dominance.
“Come inside me,” I demand, wanting him to move, desperate to see him lose control.
“I want to feel you climax ag—"
I bring his face down for a kiss. “Edgar.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and fuck me hard. We have all night to do it again and again.”
And he does. A rough growl catches in his throat as he drives into me over and over, each thrust more powerful and pleasurable than the one before.
I wind my legs around him and match his movement, losing myself in the fiery rhythm. When I come again, he joins me with my name on his lips.
Chapter Four
Jo
I don’t know what wakes me up, but I blink, then rub my tired eyes. I turn my head to see the bedside clock.
Five fifty-six.
Oh no. The time rips the drowsiness from my mind. It’s so late. I must’ve dozed off. Edgar was insatiable, taking me over and over again. It was like he heard my thought about wanting to do everything he was fantasizing and what I said about having all night to do it. I didn’t expect him to take it so literally…or have the energy to go for so long.
As I sit up, my muscles protest. Ow. Here I was thinking I was in good shape, but Edgar’s stamina is…phenomenal. If I hadn’t explored every inch of his body, I’d swear he was hooked up to some kind of Viagra IV—assuming the drug even comes in that form.
I look down at the bed—and the stunning man in it. He looks so relaxed and peaceful. I wish I could kiss him, but I’m afraid to wake him up because it’ll mean letting him have his way with me again. And I really need to get going before he opens his eyes. Both of us awake means talking. Awkward goodbyes. Pointless, empty promises, such as “Keep in touch” and “I’ll call you.”
He made it clear he doesn’t visit L.A. very often. He certainly isn’t going to start doing so just because we had a great night together. And I’m not interested in a long-distance relationship. Not with my romantic history. No matter how much I might wish the man I’m with is The One, it never works out that way. Romance always fizzles within a few months, regardless of how well suited we were at first. So what’s the point if I can’t even enjoy it to the fullest until then?
And there’s no way I’m moving to Bugwressel, Louisiana or wherever he’s from, either…even if I believed this relationship was going to be different. From what I’ve heard, bayou mosquitos are so big they carry their own ticks. And Los Angeles is where I have my life and all the people I love. Nothing’s worth giving that up.
Where are my damn shoes? I think Edgar flung them away sometime last night. I look everywhere I can think of. Where the hell…? Well, if I lose them… Irritating, but not the end of the world. I don’t actually need them to leave. I just need…
My dress. On the floor exactly where I left it.
I pick up the wrinkled outfit and put it on. Then I take another long look at the man who gave me more pleasure in one night than any of my exes did the entire time we dated.
If circumstances were different…maybe we could’ve had some fun together.
Wistfulness flows through my heart, making me feel reluctant and sad, which is so not me to feel over a guy. It’s just…
I sigh softly. He just made an impression.
Finally, I blow him a goodbye kiss…and leave.
* * *
Edgar
My phone rings and I open my eyes. After a few moments, I slowly roll my legs off the bed and sit up. My head feels like it’s full of soggy cotton, and I gently knead my temples. It feels like I had less than four hours’ sleep, and now I’ve got a mild headache to show for it. But a cup of strong coffee will cure that.
My jacket is on the floor in a heap. I dig my phone out and answer it. “Yes?”
“Hey, you coming down for breakfast?” Tony says.
“Uh. What time is it?”
“Nine,” he says. “I thought you might be tired from the trip, old man, but Ivy and Yuna have requested your presence.”
“Yuna’s here, too?”
“Yup. She spent the night.”
Makes sense. Yuna’s tight with Ivy. “I’ll be down there with…” I look back at the bed and note it’s empty. I place a hand on Jo’s side and feel none of her warmth, just the cool sheets. Disappointment mixes with mild resentment. “I need to shower, but I’ll be down soon.”
“Okay. I’ll tell the chef to make extra for you. French toast good?”
“Yeah.” I hang up and search around in the sheets, under the pillows and on the other nightstand, looking for a note. Nothing. Not even an It was fun, bye!
However, I do find her shoes. One heel is sticking out from under the bed and behind a pillow that got knocked off sometime during the night. She must’ve been a hurry to leave. Does she think I turn into an ogre during the day? I’m always the same Edgar: responsible, dependable and controlled. Surely, that’s a cause for at least some attraction.
Annoyance starts to simmer. I can’t quite decide yet if I’m upset with her or myself. The emotion doesn’t sit right, but I do my best to put a lid on my feelings and get into the shower. The hot spray hits me instantly, and I run through a quick full-body scrub. I don’t bother to shave.
I wish Jo were here to join me for the brunch. She didn’t have to sneak out like she did something wrong. We’re both consenting adults. I made sure to protect both of us, and all those empty condom packets are proof.
At the same time, I accept that I’m being perverse. Normally I don’t care for women lingering afterward, wanting me to make promises or lavish them with affection and undying devotion. So I should be relieved that Jo left on her own.
But what I should feel and what I am feeling are two very different things. There’s nothing I can do about it, except be irritated.
I put on a button-down shirt and pair of dark slacks I keep at Tony’s place and make my way down the stairs toward the airy breakfast room. One wall is made of solid glass that shows the impeccably maintained garden. Sunlight is pouring in, and the round table has a couple of pitchers—one with grapefruit juice and the other with mineral water. I also note a silver thermos pot, which hopefully contains coffee.