Chapter 24 Rodriguez #2
The elevator ride up is torture. We’re only holding hands because there’s an older couple with us, but Juliette keeps looking at me and I’m about two seconds away from completely losing it.
I’m hard, aching behind the zipper of my jeans and every time she licks her lips I swear I feel it in my soul.
She’s on me the second the couple gets off, kissing me hard, pressing me back against the wall.
“You’ve been torturing me all through brunch,” she says against my mouth.
“I’ve been torturing you? You’re the one who kept touching my thigh under the table.”
“You kept looking at me like you wanted to bend me over the nearest surface.”
“Because that’s exactly what I want to do to you.”
We stumble out and down the hall. I’m trying to get the key card to work but she’s kissing my neck.
“JuJu, stop, or we’re going to get the cops called for public indecency.”
She pulls back just enough to grin. “Relax, this is Canada. They don’t care about that plus they’ll just apologize for interrupting.”
Finally the door opens. We fall inside and I kick it shut.
She’s already pulling at my shirt. I yank it over my head. Her sweater follows. Then her bra.
“Bed,” she says.
I pick her up, carry her to the bed, and lay her down.
“I can’t believe you bought thirty-six condoms,” she says between kisses.
“You like it.” I’m working on her jeans now. Her underwear goes with them.
And then she’s completely naked beneath me, long legs, soft curves, the faint pink marks from my mouth on her thighs from earlier and I have to just stop and look at her for a second.
“What?” she asks, suddenly self-conscious, her arms twitch like she wants to cover herself.
“Nothing. Just—you’re perfect.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” I kiss her slow and deep. “You really, really are.”
I work my way down, kissing her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Take my time with each one, circling her nipples with my tongue until she’s squirming under me.
She makes this sound when I suck one into my mouth. This breathy little gasp that goes straight through me.
“Romeo, don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing. I’m appreciating.”
“You can appreciate later. Right now I need—” She arches up against me. “I need you.”
I kiss down her stomach, her hip bones, the inside of her thighs, spreading her legs wider. She tries to bring her knees back together, still so shy about being open to me like this.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is already shaky.
“Don’t hide from me JuJu. I’ve been wanting to do this since you ordered that second mimosa and licked the sugar off the rim like it was my cock.”
“We don’t have time—”
“We have all the time in the world, JuJu.” I settle between her legs. “And I’m hungry.”
“You just ate brunch—”
I put my mouth on her and she stops talking.
“Then tell me what you want, Juliette.”
“You know what I want.”
“Say it.”
She hesitates. “I want your fingers inside me while you suck on me.”
Fuck. Hearing prim and proper Juliette say that might actually kill me.
I give her what she wants, flatten my tongue against her and she cries out, hips bucking up. I hold her down with one hand on her stomach and work her with my mouth, alternating between broad strokes and suction, learning what makes her fingers tighten in my hair.
I slide two fingers inside her and she nearly comes off the bed.
I curl them and work them in rhythm with my tongue. She’s close. I can feel it in the way she’s clenching around my fingers, the way her thighs are trembling, the way she’s pulling my hair almost painfully.
“Come for me,” I say against her. “Want to taste you.”
She comes with a cry, her whole body going taut, pulsing around my fingers. I work her through it, gentle now, before kissing back up her body. She’s flushed and breathing hard. “That was—” she starts.
“Not even close to done,” I finish.
I reach for the box on the nightstand, tear one open, and roll it on. When I move back over her, she stops me.
“Wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just—” She pushes at my chest. “I want to be on top.”
My brain short-circuits. “You want—”
“Is that okay?”
“Is that okay? JuJu, that’s—yes. Fuck yes.”
I roll onto my back and she straddles me. Her hair falls around her face as she leans down to kiss me. She reaches between us and slowly sinks down.
“You okay?” I manage to ask.
“Better than okay.” She starts to move, slow at first, just rolling her hips.
I grab her hips but I let her set the pace. And watching her is better than anything I could have imagined.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I say. “So fucking beautiful, JuJu.”
She picks up the pace, her hands braced on my chest. I can feel her nails digging in.
“Touch me,” she says. “Please, I need—”
I slide my hand between us and circle with my thumb while she rides me. She gasps, moving faster.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Take what you need. I’m yours.”
That does something to her. Her rhythm gets erratic. She’s close.
“Romeo, I’m—”
“I know. I’ve got you.”
She does, clenches around me so hard, crying out my name. It’s so hot that I can’t hold back anymore.
I grip her hips and thrust up hard, once, twice, three times, and come so hard I see stars.
She collapses on top of me, both of us sweaty and breathing hard.
“Okay,” she says after a minute. “That was—”
“Yeah.”
“We might actually use all thirty-six condoms.”
I laugh, running my hand through her hair. “We’ve got all afternoon to try.”
We’re still in bed when my phone buzzes.
I reach for it without moving Juliette, who’s draped across my chest.
Got you the table. 7 PM tonight. Window seat. You owe me big time.
I grin at my phone.
“What?” Juliette asks sleepily.
“Nothing. I called in a favor. Just—” I check the time. It’s almost six. “Shit, we need to get up.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a surprise for you and we need to leave in an hour.”
She lifts her head. “A surprise?”
“Yeah. You need to get dressed. Something nice.”
“Romeo, we’ve been in this hotel room all day—”
“I know. But I made plans.” I kiss her forehead. “Trust me. You’re going to love this.”
She’s quiet for a moment, studying my face. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Wear that blue dress from the rehearsal dinner.”
“Bossy.”
“Please?” I add. “I really want to see you in it again. With your hair down.”
Her expression softens. “Okay.”
An hour later, we’re in a car heading downtown.
Juliette’s in the blue dress with her hair down exactly like I asked. She looks stunning.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks.
“Nope.”
The car winds through downtown. When the CN Tower comes into view, lit up against the night sky, I watch her face.
“We’re going to the CN Tower?”
“To the restaurant at the top.”
Her eyes go wide. “I’ve never actually been there.”
“One last night in your city. I wanted to make it special.”
Dinner is perfect. The view, the food, the way the restaurant slowly rotates. But mostly it’s just us, talking about tomorrow, about Seattle, about what happens when this stops being a Toronto bubble.
“I’m nervous,” she admits over dessert.
“About what?”
“About going back. About this being different when we’re not in a hotel room.”
“It will be different,” I say. “But good different. Real different.”
She looks out at the city. “I want this to work.”
“It will work. We’ll make it work.” Because I’m not losing this. Not losing her.
It’s late when we finally leave. I keep her tucked against my side as we walk.
“Our last night,” she says quietly.
“Only for Toronto. Tomorrow in Seattle is the beginning of everything else.”
Back at the hotel, I take my time with her. Slow and careful, like we’re trying to hold onto this moment before everything changes.