Chapter 35
Olivia
Now
“What gym do you go to? Because I’d like to leave a review,” I say, letting my eyes wander his stomach. Carmello has a six-pack and the pectorals of a Greek god. He laughs. “No…you’re beautiful.”
He pushes my legs apart, drawing a finger up my thigh.
“How about we save the reviews and the compliments until after I’m done with you?”
“Ooh. Okay, Mr. Confidence. I like that.”
He touches between my legs and draws back to lick his fingers.
Well, shit. I bite my bottom lip while he lowers himself on the bed, nerves gathering in the base of my belly anticipating what’s about to go down.
I open my mouth to say something quippy about him looking hungry, and he shuts me the hell up by gliding the flat of his tongue over me.
One lick and I’m sure this man has never seen a bad review from anyone.
Carmello uses his mouth with a passion I haven’t experienced before now.
Not from him when we were inexperienced, and not from the most skilled partners I’ve had over the years.
He sucks and nibbles and nuzzles and spreads me wider to lick everywhere.
I grip the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, push off the bed to meet the heat of his tongue.
He encourages me while I’m grinding on his face with one hand under the small of my back.
Whenever I moan, he mirrors me but with his mouth full.
It sounds like he’s devouring something delectable, and I feel lucky that something is me. He doesn’t rush it, but he doesn’t need to. I feel the crest of my orgasm come quick, and when he sends me over the edge, my body gets the peace it’d been craving in him.
He hovers back over me, kissing my belly, my chest, my neck, my jaw. When he reaches my lips, he presses soft ones there, says, “I like the look of satisfaction on you.”
“I wish we had time so that I could satisfy you too,” I say, then lean up and lick the taste of me off his lips. Suck his tongue.
“Mm.” He moans. “Don’t make it harder for me to leave.”
I tap his back and heave out a breath, say, “Quick. Pass me my phone.”
His brows meet in the center, and a small laugh leaves his throat. “What? Why?”
“Gotta text my friends and ask them to rush back over here so we can squeal into the couch pillows together after I tell them about how good you are with that mouth.”
He shakes his head, a big grin on his face, and there’s this look in his eyes that my heart wants to interpret as love. “You talked to your friends about us?”
“Shh.” I put my fingers on his lips, smiling too. “Forget conversation. Forget my friends. How long do we have? Wouldn’t want you to have to run out of here in your boxers. Though my neighbors might enjoy the show.”
“You’re wild,” he says, then rolls onto his back and pulls me toward him. “Don’t worry, O. There’s enough time for me to hold you for a bit.”
Something about that softness from him makes me want to reciprocate. “It’s like you’ve got keys to my brain,” I say, throwing a thigh around his middle. Snuggling my face in the crook of his neck, feeling his steady pulse there. “It’s scary sometimes.”
He raises my hand from his stomach to brush his lips along my knuckles. “What’s scary about it?”
I gather all the courage left in my bones and say, “I missed you, Mello, so much. More than just intimately. But I think you already knew that.”
He’s silent for a second, then he releases a breath. “I’ve missed you too, O. In all the ways.”
My heart starts to race. I don’t know what it means that we’re both admitting to feelings that are deeper than just sex, but I have the urge to jump us from one moment to the next because maybe that’s safer right now.
With time running out and heavy questions in the air.
And the only way I can think to do that is to say: “Even if this was casual, I still want to be friends.”
His fingers go still as they run up my spine. “I don’t think we could ever be casual,” he says, and it sounds like he’s realizing at the same time as he’s speaking the words. “Do you?”
I open my mouth to respond and then…his alarm goes off. We’re quiet for a few seconds and then we both laugh. “Saved by the bell,” I say. “Maybe it’s a sign we skip the serious talks today and just kiss a couple more times before you go?”
“Or you could answer my question,” he says.
“Would you seriously prefer that or do you want my tongue one more time?”
He considers for a second then says, “Come here, you,” before pulling me on top of him.
***
After Carmello leaves, I’m not as nervous that he has regrets but I try not to wonder too much about what it means that he doesn’t think what we did was casual either.
When I get back in bed, I focus on other things instead.
Our shared laughter on the porch when I joked about him actually having time to get dressed and my neighbors missing out on a show.
The way he tilted my chin and kissed my lips and said, “Thank you so much for tonight,” like I’d given him a gift instead of the other way around.
How he turned back to look at me after he reached his truck in the driveway with the biggest smile on his face.
Maybe we didn’t have the responsible conversation before jumping into sexual acts together, but I think it was the right thing to clear our heads of some of the tension.
It will open us up to be more honest with each other later.
Or at least, I can hope so. Seeing what we were like together physically again…
maybe I needed to know before I can make decisions about what I want out of life next.
I can still smell his cologne on my sheets. I concentrate on that too, while remembering his body wrapped around mine. And as the memories of him between my legs come back, I trail my fingers over my breasts. I’m throbbing for all of him when my phone vibrates.
Can’t stop thinking of you, Carmello sends. I miss you.
I squeal and do a little happy dance in bed. Feeling seventeen again.
Do you really? I text, trying to play it cool.
I do, he types back. You’re kinda hard to shake.
I waste not a single second. So don’t, I reply.
The typing bubbles crop up, then stop. I hold my breath, but his words aren’t the kind that make catching it easy: Maybe I won’t, he says. Good night, O. Sleep well.