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The kiss that followed was slower but no less intense—drawn out, teasing, full of heat. Amanda's hands slipped behind Ericka to rest at the small of her back, holding her close.
When they finally parted for air, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing heavier than before.
Ericka traced a fingertip over Amanda's jaw, her smile soft but wicked. "You're lucky I'm letting you lead right now."
Amanda's reply was a kiss—slow at first, tasting, testing—before deepening into something that pulled the air from the room. Ericka's hands roamed up her sides, over her shoulders, into her hair, as if she was trying to memorize her by touch alone.
They stumbled toward the bedroom, kissing between quiet, breathless laughs, bumping into the wall once before Amanda's hand found the doorframe. The moment they crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted.
Ericka sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Amanda between her knees. "You have no idea how hard it was not to touch you at work," she whispered, her hands sliding under Amanda's shirt, skimming warm skin.
Amanda bent down, pressing her forehead to Ericka's. "Oh, I have an idea. I've been thinking about this all day."
Ericka's fingers trailed lower, her lips brushing Amanda's jaw before she murmured, "Then stop thinking."
The rest was a blur of kisses—soft and lingering, then heated and urgent—hands exploring in the shadows. Ericka's laugh, muffled against Amanda's mouth, Amanda's low murmur of her name. Clothes found their way to the floor, the city lights spilling across bare skin.
They moved together like they'd done this a hundred times, yet it still felt new—every touch electric, every sigh feeding the fire between them.
Ericka's breath caught as Amanda's hands settled at her hips, holding her there like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. And in that moment, she was.
The rest faded into the quiet rhythm of the night—the city still glowing outside, their silhouettes moving in the dim light—until nothing existed but them.
_________
The room was hushed now, the only sound the faint hum of the city through the glass. Ericka lay curled against Amanda's chest, her breathing steady, her fingertips drawing lazy circles over Amanda's ribs.
Amanda kissed the top of her head, one arm wrapped protectively around her waist. "You okay?" she asked softly.
"Mmhmm." Ericka tilted her face up, brushing her lips against Amanda's jaw. "More than okay."
Amanda smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You look smug."
"I am smug," Ericka admitted. "You drive me crazy, and I love it."
Amanda laughed quietly, pulling her closer. "You're impossible."
"And you're mine," Ericka replied without missing a beat.
They lay there in the warm, dim room, Amanda's thumb stroking over the back of Ericka's hand, Ericka's breath fanning against her collarbone. Neither spoke for a while—there was no need.
Finally, Amanda whispered, "We should probably get some sleep."
Ericka shook her head, smiling into her shoulder. "Not yet."
So Amanda kissed her again—slow, unhurried, tasting the moment as much as the woman in her arms—and let the rest of the world keep waiting.