Milán
I drop onto my back. My chest is slick with sweat, and my dick is still twitching from coming my brains out a minute earlier.
My fingertips tingle, and a tired laugh escapes my chest—satiated euphoria from the orgasm he just wrung out of me.
Jordan is lying half on top of me, feet dangling over the edge of my bed, his chest falling and rising with his rapid inhales.
His fingers comb through my chest hair lazily, and he tugs at it. I peer at him with one eye. He flicks my nipple and laughs when I squirm.
“Stop seducing me,” I say.
He looks up and grins. “That’s all it takes?”
“I can get going with just a look from you. So this was almost like you putting in effort.”
“God, you’re easy.” He smiles.
“I know. It’s one of my better qualities. I’m hot for you all the time.”
He rests his chin on his forearms on my chest and smiles.
“That’s sweet.” He keeps looking at me. “You’re sweet.”
I’ve never considered myself that before, but suddenly I desperately want to be sweet. I want him to look at me with that satisfied smile and think I’m sweet.
He rolls off me and stretches, his long, lean body on full display for a too-brief moment before he sits up, grabs his T-shirt, and starts pulling it over his head.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I grab the hem, tugging it out of his grasp. “What are you doing?”
He combs his fingers through his hair and throws me a dry look when I keep holding his shirt hostage.
“I have to get going,” he says.
“One more minute.”
“You already said that. That’s how we ended up here, remember? So I’m not inclined to believe you this time. And I have to get going.”
I flop down on my back with a huff.
He smirks while he pulls on his pants, and once he’s done, he puts one knee on the mattress and leans over me.
“Are you pouting?”
Yes.
I school my features.
“Come away with me,” I blurt.
“What do you mean?” he asks distractedly as he’s buttoning his shirt.
“Let’s take some time off from life. A few days. A weekend. Let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us.”
He blinks, clothes forgotten for now. He tilts his head to the side. “Really?”
“Why do you sound surprised that I want to spend time with you?”
He studies me for a moment before he shakes his head. “Not surprised about that. Just trying to figure out if we can make it work somehow.”
He shifts from one foot to the other and stands very still like he’s leafing through his mental calendar.
“Where do you want to go?” His tone is a bit hesitant. Like he’s afraid to want this.
“Anywhere,” I say, but immediately after, limitations start to pop up in my head, because what about Rory and could Aiden get time off work and what about soccer and who’s going to take care of dinner, and Rory has that dentist appointment because there’s a possibility that he needs braces and—
When did all these responsibilities become my new normal?
And when did I start viewing them as just a part of everyday life and not something to silently resent?
When did it all become ordinary? Because I should resent this.
For years I’ve been free to come and go as I please.
Do what I want when I want, no obligations, no distractions.
When I look up, I find Jordan eyeing me with an amused expression.
“Reconsidering the offer?”
I shake my head. “Dealing with the logistics. I’m thinking a weekend getaway for now? We can drive somewhere. I don’t care where. Get a hotel room. Be together. Just the two of us.”
He smiles. “You don’t have to sell it to me. I’m already on board.”
I let out a breath of relief. I have a helium heart from the joy and anticipation.
“Okay,” I say. “Okay. In that case, all I have to do is bribe the hospital to give Aiden some time off work. I should probably, like, offer to finance a new wing or something. That should do it, right? Easy.”
“Is it?”
“Probably. I’ve got money, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“New hospital wing money?” He raises a brow.
“Might have to dip into the savings.”
He smiles and looks down at his feet for a moment. “Or, if it turns out Aiden can’t get the time off, Rory can come stay over at our place for the weekend, and my dad will keep an eye on him?”
“And I can use the hospital wing money to get us a really nice hotel room instead. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
“One of your better ones,” he says before he leans down to kiss me, then walks out the door.
I lie back on the bed.
Stare at the ceiling.
And smile.