He was bare inside me
and I was loving it
taking every slamming thrust of his naked cock into me, relishing the slick smooth slide of skin on skin
the heat of him and the wetness of me
our lovemaking was poetry
a symphonic crescendo of emotion mashed inextricably into physicality
I came and I told him to come
and he came
a hot unending wet sticky fluid perfect filling rush of HIM
his raw love pouring into me
unguarded beyond real and filling me until
I spilled over with him
love leaking out of me, hot and wet and beautiful and mine
mine because I was his
I was crying. I slammed back into myself from whatever mad wild vision that was, helpless against the fraught intensity of it, crying from the wrenching fury of the orgasm still shaking me in wave after wave after wave.
He set me on the floor, but didn’t pull out of me.
Remained hot and huge inside me, a hard wall of man behind me.
Lips on mine. “Where’d you go, Lex?” A whisper, small and quiet and tender from him.
I shook my head, afraid to speak lest he hear the tremor in my voice. “I…”
My knees gave out, but I had nowhere to fall because he was still thick and rigid inside me, holding me up. I sagged anyway, and was glutted on him and aching with him and somehow wanting to be able to do it all over again even as I felt him subsiding.
He wrapped his arms around my middle and held me. “Where did you go, Alexandra?”
How did he know?
“I don’t know, Myles,” I hissed. “I don’t know.”
“I felt you…I felt something, Lex. Don’t tell me I didn’t, and don’t tell me you didn’t.”
I shook my head, because I had absolutely zero words for whatever the hell that was. “Yeah, I just don’t know what to fucking call it.”
He finally slid out of me, and I clenched around emptiness—I wanted him back, wanted him inside me, wanted him where he belonged, and dammit dammit dammit I was all flipped around and upside down and inside out.
Pulled away from him, turning to put my back to the door. Knees shaking, still, legs threatening to give out entirely yet again. He hadn’t even taken my thong off. I settled it back into place, righted my shirt. Shoved my skirt down. Reached blindly for him, found him—carefully pulled the condom off of him, tied it in a knot by feel.
“Myles…” I wasn’t even sure what I was planning on saying. Nothing was forthcoming and I just trailed off.
I heard and felt him zip himself up. He reached past me to open the door, momentarily blinding us both with a sudden sear of golden evening sun.
Still holding the knotted condom, I stepped out of the janitorial closet and took in my surroundings with one eye closed and the other squinting—the rain had stopped while we were in there and the sun was out but was setting. The community center was a big open room, an empty information desk with a quiet telephone and a darkened computer screen along one wall, windows lining the entire front, a Ping-Pong table and a foosball table in the middle of the room, and a cluster of round games tables with four chairs each on either side.
And, at one of the tables, was a quartet of elderly women. Each one clutched a hand of cards, a pile on the table between them. Wide eyes. They were staring at us. Shocked. Horrified.
At me, a used condom dangling from my fingers, my shirt wet and see-through, my hair a disaster, squinting at the light like a vampire.
“Shit,” Myles muttered. “We had an audience, I guess.”
I glanced back at the janitor’s closet and saw a garbage can. Tossed the condom into it. “Sorry, didn’t know anyone was in here,” I said to the women, with a tight, apologetic grin, fighting back laughter at their horrified expressions.
Oh man, they must’ve thought Myles had been straight up murdering me.
One of the little old ladies huffed indignantly. “Well, I never!”
Another one recovered faster. “We know, Leslie.” She had pale pink hair and an American flag tattoo on her wrinkled bicep. “You never.” She smiled at us. “I for one say good for you. I just wish Herb had done that to me when he was alive.” She huffed a laugh. “And in a janitor’s closet, bless your souls. Ah, the madness of youth.”
Myles took me by the hand and led me toward the doors. “Sorry for the disturbance, ladies. We’ll leave you to your rummy.” That ten-thousand-watt grin—he could get away with murder with that grin.
One of the ladies gasped. “It is you! My granddaughter is just over the moon for you, you know.” She humphed. “I better keep this little tidbit to myself. I swear she thinks you’re going to sweep in any minute and whisk her away into some teenaged fantasyland happily ever after. I haven’t the heart to disabuse her of the fantasy.”
Myles’s grin faltered momentarily, and then returned brighter than ever. “Well, I don’t know what I can do about that, but I can do this…” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a Sharpie, strode across the room and snagged one of the extra Joker cards and scrawled his autograph on it. “You got a phone?”
The old woman pulled out a cell phone that was at least ten years old, brought up the camera. Handed it to him. He circled to crouch behind the woman
