Chapter 32
I’m still riding the high of a third orgasm I didn’t even think was possible when Preston and I go crashing to the ground. The table completely gave out underneath us, two of the legs snapping in half from the weight.
Preston keeps a grip on me, even after we hit the ground in a tangle of limbs.
“Are you okay?” The concern in his face is evident as he twists my body in his lap to face him. He pulls himself from me, and despite the unexpected ending to our first time together, I miss the fullness I felt with him inside me.
For a few seconds, I don’t speak, too stunned about what just happened. Both our breaths are heavy and quick as we regain our composure.
Preston’s hands find my cheeks. “Emma. Are you okay?”
My eyes meet his at the same moment the loudest laugh erupts from deep in my chest. It’s probably the most unattractive sound ever, but I snort, unable to get control of myself.
“Oh my god,” I wheeze, trying to get air into my lungs but finding it difficult because of the laughter overtaking my entire body. “We just broke a table.”
Preston’s eyes go wide before he rolls them at me. “Fuck, Emma, I thought you got hurt.” His cheeks hollow out as he lets out a breath. He places his hand to his chest, rubbing over it dramatically. “My heart actually fucking hurts with how worried I was there for a moment.”
I wipe at the tears that prickle the corner of my eyes. My body still shakes with another laugh that threatens to burst free. “I’m sorry,” I manage to get out. “It’s just that I just got fucked so good that we ended up breaking a table.”
This gets him to relax the hard set of his jaw. His thumbs brush against my cheeks. “It really did end with a bang.” His lips twitch before he lets out a deep rumble of a laugh.
I join him, unable to play it cool for another second after his words. The two of us break out in laughter like it’s the most normal thing in the world for us to be cracking up after having mind-blowing sex in public and accidentally breaking a table in the process.
I don’t know how long the laughing lasts, but as we both get our breaths back—both from the laughter and the sex—I realize I don’t know if I’ve ever felt such a rush of happiness. I’m completely content, and as Preston stares at me with his deep blue eyes, I find myself wishing all of this didn’t end after Peyton’s wedding.
Preston’s eyes travel my face as our breathing evens out. The humor is gone from the room, and now, a heavy tension fills the space around us. His thumb traces over my bottom lip, and all I can do is hope that he’s feeling the same overwhelming rush of feelings I am.
“Tell me that was as good for you as it was for me.” His voice comes out hoarse and unsure. It’s the first time I’ve heard anything but confidence in his tone.
I place my palms against his cheeks, copying the same position as his hands on my face. I don’t even try to hide my smile or the effect he’s having on me. If I only have a few more days left with him, I’m okay with wearing my heart on my sleeve.
I agreed to be his fake girlfriend because I didn’t want to live with what-ifs. That mindset goes for this too. I don’t want to look back and wonder what could’ve happened if I’d been more open and honest with him. What’s the worst thing that can happen? I never see him again? That’s already happening once Peyton gets married. I don’t have anything to lose.
Preston swallows, his fingertips applying slightly more pressure. “Talk to me, Em.”
Em. I like the nickname. I like rebel, too. I like anything he calls me—even if some of them are filthy.
I loop my finger through the chain necklace around his neck and pull his face closer to mine. “I’m the one who came three times. For me, it was probably better.” I kiss him before he can even respond. He doesn’t seem to care. His tongue meets mine, slowly circling my mouth.
We kiss like that for a few moments before he pulls away enough to talk. “I’m already thinking about making you come again.”
I gasp, pulling my finger free from his necklace. “Preston Rhodes, you animal. You just gave me the best sex and orgasms—yes, plural—of my life, and you’re already talking about when it’ll happen again.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
He smirks, and it seems so boyish on him. I love it. When we first met, I wondered if he ever really smiled. It turns out he does. He just saves them for the special moments, and I feel a high knowing he’ll freely give them to me. “Yes. I am. I don’t remember what the itinerary Peyton gave us for the rest of the day is , but I vote we skip it.”
I playfully swat at his chest. “It’s your sister’s wedding week. You can’t skip anything.”
He narrows his eyes on me, clearly not happy with my answer. “Guess I’ll be keeping you up late, then.”
My cheeks heat with what I’m sure is a blush. I never thought I was someone who blushed, but apparently, I just hadn’t met the right person. I look underneath us at the broken remains of the table. “What are we going to do about this table?”
I don’t want to, but I slide from his lap and look down at the mess we made. The pillow has fallen to the ground, and one of the legs of the table is completely bent in half. I don’t know how we managed to break it this badly, but somehow, we did.
Preston sighs as we both stand up. He puts his hands on his hips, looking down at our mess. I try not to laugh at the sight of us because we’re both completely naked, staring down at what used to be a perfectly working massage table.
I cannot wait to tell my friends about this. I finally have the hottest sex of my life, and instead of it ending with us passionately gazing into each other’s lust-filled eyes, it ended with us on the ground, surrounded by broken pieces of a massage table.
“I could try to fix it.” His words come out as more of a question than a statement.
I grab my robe off the hook and pull it on, looking down at the leg of the table that’s completely broken in half. “I’m not sure that can be fixed.”
He chuckles. “I’ll tell the staff I’ll buy them a new one.”
“That’s probably a better idea. Do you have your wallet?”
“Why would I need my wallet? They can put it on a tab for me.” He raises an eyebrow before grabbing a spare robe from the back of the door. It doesn’t fit him at all. His tall frame makes it far too short for him, and it can’t close because of his broad shoulders, but he still pulls it off, looking incredibly too good for his—and my—own good.
I squat down, seeing if there’s a way we could stage the table to make it look not so broken. There isn’t. The moment Hannah and Lowry return, they will know exactly what happened between me and Preston. I need to make sure I run out of this spa and never ever return. “No, not for the table. Although you do owe them a new one. I wanted to know if you had your wallet so you can leave a tip for Lowry and Hannah. I think they, uh…” I laugh, shaking my head. “Well, I think they earned a tip.”
Preston nods. “I don’t have my wallet because the towel I was wearing didn’t have pockets, but I’ll make sure they get a good tip. As long as you never say his name again.”
I roll my eyes. “You were literally inside me five minutes ago, and you’re jealous of the massage therapist because I said his name?”
“And the way you moaned while his hands were on you.”
“I moaned because, for some reason, your thumb brushing against my palm was the most erotic thing ever.”
“More erotic than my cock buried inside you?”
I shrug, trying to hide the blush blooming on my cheeks. “We hadn’t gotten that far yet. Now, let’s go before Hannah and Lowry come back and I die of embarrassment.”