“So, that’s why I’m such a disaster.” She turns away from the mirror. “I’ve been bleeding from my existential wound this entire time.”
“We should definitely spiral about it in separate rooms for twelve hours,” he says, probably lowering his memory foam pillow over his air passages.
“Works for me.”
Her phone goes dead.
Ari shuts off the bathroom light. Pushing against all her deepest impulses, she peeks into the bedroom, hiding her body behind the doorframe. “I’m scared, okay? We could really, really hurt each other.”
“Do you think I don’t know what it’s like to be hurt?” Josh sits up on his elbow. “You’re the only good thing in my life.”
Ari stares at him, holding her breath. She could raise serious objections to that statement. There’s a construction worker in a neon vest waving a slow down sign in front of that statement.
“Let’s just…watch a movie or something. Please.”
She shifts her weight. “You know I don’t watch movies naked.”
“I know.” He tosses a soft white ball at her. “Put these on then.” She looks down at a neatly rolled up pair of socks.
Ari sits on the edge of the bed and pulls the enormous socks on; they’re more luxurious than some of her shoes.
“I don’t do this,” she says again, gesturing at the bed. “I told you this the first time we met. I don’t sleep over.” And I’m scared shitless of this entire thing, so I’ll be going and probably not contacting you for three weeks.
“So we won’t go back to sleep.” Josh peels back the covers so she can slide in next to him. These sheets must have a thread-count in the thousands. It’s like staying in a very nice, austere hotel. There’s an awkward silence hanging like a cloud over the room. Or perhaps that’s a fancy Japanese diffuser.
This is the weird thing that happens after sex: Once you’ve unraveled all the tension, you’re just two naked people sitting there like nervous idiots.
Josh rolls onto his side and his right arm snakes its way around her hip.
“This is dangerously close to spooning,” Ari says.
“And yet, you haven’t disintegrated.” His skin smells like the sandalwood/camphor/Russian leather fragrance of his stupid organic body wash. Maybe part of her wants to smell like those nonsense words, too.
Shit shit shit.
“I—I have things to do tomorrow. I mean, this morning.” Seems best not to mention the meeting is with his mother. “I need to get up soon.”
“Hmm.” His thumb grazes the soft, ticklish area where her thigh meets her hip, making her squirm. “Didn’t you say orgasms jolt you awake?”
“At this point, my vibrator is my main reason for waking up, period, so…”
His breath tickles the nervy skin on the back of her neck.
“Show me.”
20
“I DIDN’T BRING MY EQUIPMENT,” she replies, unsure if she’s trying to escalate or defuse. But frankly, this is far more appealing than snuggling.
“You have hands.” Josh shifts himself up toward the headboard, moving his left arm under her neck.
“But that’s a lot more effort.” It’s been forever since she touched herself without the aid of buzzing purple silicone.
She’s keenly aware of the way his erection presses insistently into her ass and she finds herself arching her back, pushing against it. Her legs part just enough to slot her right hand between them.
“I have hands, too,” he says. There’s a second or two of conspicuous silence before he shoves the duvet down the bed. “Roll over onto your stomach.”
He pushes down on her right shoulder so that she’s lying on her belly and there’s a thrilling little sensation streaking up her spine. Maybe Gabe was right about her having a thing for bossy people who think they know everything.
She lets an approving mmm slip out when he moves his hand between her legs, brushing it over hers. One—no, two of his fingers slide all too easily inside her and she sucks in a breath. Thank God they’re not staring at each other this time.
His fingers press down and—shit, shitshitSHIT. It’s the difference between let’s see where this pleasurable feeling leads, shall we? and there is definitely, one hundred percent an orgasm in my near future.
“Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?” His mouth is right next to her ear.
She lets out some incomprehensible moaning sound in response and loops her left arm around the pillow, needing to hold on to something.