Page 9 of Missed Communication
I did tell her to ask for what she needed, and I drive harder into her as she drags my lips back to hers. Her kisses are messy, and even as the headboard clanks against the wall, I don’t let up, desperate to feel her come again before I dare slow down. Her moans and gasps fill the room, the sweet sounds bringing me closer. It only takes a few more thrusts, and as she bites down onto my bottom lip, she comes for me. I can’t hold on a moment longer. Worried I could tear the condom, I settle inside her as I fill it. To my surprise, she doesn’t stop kissing me, wrapping her legs tighter to pull me impossibly deeper. I came way too fast and will need to make it up to her—if not tonight, first thing in the morning.
When we finally catch our breath, I slip out of her to discard the full condom. It’s wetter than any condom I’ve ever used and pride blooms in my chest that I made her come so hard the fucking latex is glistening.
I press a single soft kiss to her lips, whispering against them, “I’ll be right back,” then rush off to the bathroom to clean up. When I return, she's under the covers, nervously chewing on her lip. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, that was fun. You can go now,” she rushes out.
I let out a full laugh. “Not so fast. You just used me for my cock, it’s only fair that I get to use you too.”
“What?” she squeaks as I slide into bed with her.
“I rarely date, which means I don’t get to spend the night cuddling with a beautiful woman. So, I’m not going anywhere until the morning.”
“You want to… spoon me?”
“Yep,” I reply confidently, popping the ‘p.’ “I’ll even let you pick between being the big spoon or little spoon.”
“You’re impossible,” she groans, but there’s still a smile in her voice.
With a quick peck to her lips, I sling back the covers. “Actually, before I feel your ass grinding against me for the next six hours, I need a snack.” I offer my hand to help her out of bed.
“A snack? I thought you were twenty-six, not twelve.”
I love her fire but counter, “Are you seriously going to say no to dessert?” I pin her with a deadpan glare, but she doesn’t reply. “Come on,mi abayarde, I’m hungry.”
5
Aubrey
Jamie keeps calling me hisabayarde, and I wish I knew what it meant. It’s definitely Spanish, but even after entirely too many hours of the app I’ve been using, I can’t remember the word. If I had known he was bilingual, I never would’ve slept with him. Not only did he ruin my pussy for all other men, but now I’m fucking swooning because of some cute pet name he’s given me… and Idon’tswoon.
When I don’t take his hand, he pivots and walks toward the kitchenette, his perfect ass on display. I reach for my phone, doing a quick search for the Spanish word, misspelling it, but it autocorrects. As I read through a few of the possible translations, I grumble, mostly to myself, “Asshole.”
“I’m not an asshole,” he calls over his shoulder. “But if you’re up for it, I’ll fuck yours.”
Annoyed with his quick wit and finally knowing what the hell he’s been saying all night, I call after him, “You basically called me a fire ant!”
He returns to me with intent in his stride, cock already half-hard. “Give me your key card.”
“What? Why should I? You’ve been calling me a bug all night?”
“No,” he laughs. “I’ll explain later, but give me your key card.” He flaps his hand palm-side up expectantly.
I shouldn’t. Then again, he works here, and if he wanted to, he could likely have a copy made if he’s besties with someone at the front desk. “Why should I give it to you?”
“Because I worked up an appetite, so I’m going to grab my favorite dish here at the hotel for us to share.”
“You’re serious?” My eyes narrow. When he doesn’t budge, I cave. “Okay, fine. I’ve actually been craving something spicy ever since we touched down in Ottawa, so if your favorite dish has a bit of kick, I’m in. Card in my purse, outside pocket.”
“I’ve got just the thing.” His lip quirks up as he reaches for his clothes. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a few.”
Once Jamie is dressed, he leaves with my key card, and the moment the door clicks shut I rush to the bathroom for a shower. There’s no way in hell I’m going to sleep well tonight without a quick clean-up.
After the fastest rinse-off of my life, I put on one of the hotel robes, and make my way to the kitchenette. The bag Jamie brought in is still sitting on the table and I open it, finding a small box of tiramisu. My stomach grumbles, and as much as I’d love to have a few bites, I put it in the fridge and wait for him to return with whatever magical dish he’s whipping up.
I retrieve a bottle of sparking water and wince as I take a seat at the table. I’m a little sore, but in the best way. Smiling tomyself, I let out a satisfied hum—turns out, all I needed was a little one-night stand to tame my feral hormones. While I’ve had a few casual encounters over the past year, they were nothing like this. This wasn’t a heated, rip-each-other’s-clothes-off sort of sex. It was something else entirely. He was gentle but firm, commanding but checking in. And, God, that mouth of his.
A few minutes later, the click of the door unlocking draws my attention. Jamie enters, and the moment our eyes meet, my breath catches. Perhaps my hormones weren’t tamed after all. How the hell is he hotter now than he was twenty minutes ago?
