She slipped her dress the rest of the way off, unsnapped her bra and let it fall to the floor, and then walked in her heels to his chair, where she tore open the condom wrapper and rolled the condom on his hard, hot dick. His quick inhale of breath when she touched him probably put the I’m-the-stud-of-the-week smile on her face, and she didn’t care. They could co-own the moment. She was a giver that way.
So when she put her hands on his shoulders, stepped wide so she straddled him in the chair, and then lowered herself down onto his cock, it was for both of them. Okay, the second she made contact with the head of his dick, that changed to being all about her, because oh my God had she had a drought and this was never going to happen again, but she’d had the best intentions to be a good sharer. Moving her hands from his shoulders to the back of the chair because she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t leave nail imprints on him despite the fact that he was still wearing his shirt—poor planning on your part, Miss Gives The Orders Regina—she took him all the way in.
“Fucking A, Gina.” The words came out half groan and half growl while he grasped her hips.
He was very not wrong. This was so damn good. She rocked forward, swiveling her body a bit and changing the angle as she fucked him—and that’s what it was, uninhibited fucking, the kind that only happened when she wasn’t worried about what weird expression was on her face or how her stomach looked at the moment or if her body was making a weird noise.
For some reason, she was too overwhelmed by sensation to figure out at the moment, none of those usual thoughts happened when Ford touched her. They both just were. Later, she’d examine that, but not now, not when the man she’d spent the past week dreaming about was making that tormented growly rumble that did things to her very minimal—at the moment, okay, really any time she was around Ford—sense of control.
He reached up and cupped the back of her head, bringing her mouth down to his. Her body’s response was a huge hell yes when his tongue swept into her mouth in the kind of overwhelming kiss that made her think oxygen was totally superfluous.
Sensation shot through her, pleasure making every nerve in her body vibrate. All of it grew with each twist of his tongue around hers and each undulation of her hips as she rocked against him until she couldn’t take it any more. Everything inside her tightened and expanded in the same breath, and her orgasm washed like a wave over her, and she broke the the kiss and threw her head back with his name on her lips.
His hand dropped from her head to her hips again, and he gripped her tight, pumping her up and down on him in a series of short, hard thrusts before he came with a harsh groan.
Minutes, hours, days later, her brain came back online. “Wow.”
Ford’s tired chuckle brushed across her bare shoulder. “Seconded.”
They stayed like that for a moment before the realities of the situation demanded attention. After they’d both gotten up, he’d disposed of the condom, and she’d gathered up her clothes, he followed her up the stairs to her big fluffy bed, which felt a lot smaller with Ford in it.
He told her stories about being the smallest brother in his family. She told him about being the tallest girl in her class. They laughed and swapped more stories and fell asleep snuggled against each other. At o’dark hundred, she woke up to Ford kissing that spot on her neck guaranteed to make her entire body zing, and that led to a whole lot of fun before sleep overtook them again. And once the sun finally did break through the night? Ford did what she’d asked earlier and left after a sweet goodbye kiss.
And that, she figured, was that.
Chapter Eleven
Wednesday night was Paint and Sip night with the girls. With the exception of last week, when she was in virtual house arrest/protective custody/Lustville, Gina never missed it. Tonight, she almost ditched, but that would have led to more questions than she wanted to answer, so she put on her big-girl panties—not the little black lace ones—and made her way down to Evanston Avenue and the art studio that sat above the hardware store down the block from Marino’s Sports Bar. It had seemed like her best option, right up until she walked in and faced down the two women in the world who knew her best.
“You look different.” Lucy cocked her head to one side and gave her a long up-and-down look while she sipped her rosé. “What have you been up to? Was being up to your elbows in house renovations code for finally getting naked with someone tall, dark, and epically talented with his tongue?”
Gina stopped herself from looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the counter, where Larry, who owned Paint and Sip, was serving up small plastic cups of the best cheap wine money could buy. Did she really look that different? It had been two days. Surely they couldn’t see that spot at the base of her neck where Ford had nipped her.
Trying to be as subtle about it as possible, she adjusted the neckline of her T-shirt to make sure the collar hadn’t slipped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucy didn’t look convinced. In fact, she looked even more suspicious as she peered at Gina through her signature glasses with the bright red frames before turning to the third in their little trifecta. “Do you believe her, Tess? Because I don’t.”
Gina and Lucy turned to Tess.
The much shorter, auburn-haired florist didn’t hesitate. “Nope.”
“Well, sorry to ruin it for you, but there’s nothing to tell.” Okay, that was a straight-up lie to her best friends, but it wasn’t like there was a possibility of her seeing Ford again, so why bring it up? “What are we painting tonight?”
Lucy dropped her gaze down to Gina’s neckline. “Aardvarks drowning in the ocean.”
“Interesting,” Gina said and sat down in front of one of the large canvases with a few swooping lines drawn in pencil on it.
Tess and Lucy exchanged a she’s-totally-full-of-it glance and joined her.
“Liar. That’s not interesting, it’s totally preposterous. Even Larry wouldn’t have dreamed up something so ludicrous.” Lucy turned and gave their instructor a cheery wave as she sat down. “No offense, Larry.”
The balding man in the Stay Weird apron splattered with several years’ worth of dried paint just rolled his eyes. After two years of the three of them being here every Wednesday night, he’d either learned to put up with Lucy’s brash ways or how to pretend like he had.
Tess sat down at the canvas next to Gina’s, putting her plastic cup of wine down near her paint brushes and a second cup next to the last canvas in their row. She was too distracted wondering why the normally one-glass-and-done Tess was double fisting it to realize she was under attack until it was too late.
Lucy snagged her shirt, pulled the collar just enough to reveal the hickey Ford had left, and cried out in triumph. “I knew it wasn’t just home renovations last week. You were shacked up with a dude. Finally!”
Gina force herself to take a measured sip of her rosé, even though she just wanted to chug the bottle. Paint and Sip night was not the place she wanted to have this discussion.
“It was the wedding guy,” Tess said with a gasp.
“Oh my God, say yes. Say it was the wedding guy, because he sounded so flippin’ hot.”
“Who sounded hot?” asked a woman from behind her.
Gina turned to see who was moving in on their conversation and almost fell off her stool. The plastic cup slipped in her grip, but she managed not to drop it. Some of the pink wine did slosh over the side and landed smack dab in the middle of her shirt, because why only be humiliated once when you could get a second helping for free? It was the universe’s version of an embarrassment buy-one-get-one-free sale.
“There you are, Fallon,” Tess said, grinning at Ford’s sister. “Lucy and Gina, this is Fallon Hartigan. She’s the emergency room nurse I was telling you about who helped me out when I couldn’t find my way around the hospital during deliveries the other day. We started talking about the total dumpster fire of dating in the modern age and trust me, she is one of us—totally single and slaying it.”
Gina didn’t even bother wishing that the ground would open up and end her misery now. It was too late for that. Disaster was bearing down on her like a midtown bus with busted breaks. There was no way she was gonna get out of the way in time. She was about to be a bug on the windshield of life.
“Nice to meet you, Lucy. Hey Gina,” Fallon said as she sat down. “So, tell me about the hottie.”
Oh hell. Gina downed her rosé. She was gonna need it.
“Oh, it was at this guy at a wedding Gina planned the other weekend,” Tess said, her face taking on an excited glow. “She got put on a kiss cam with a total babe of a cop in front of everyone. I swear I would have died, but she ended up kissing him. What was his name, Gina? It was a car name, wasn’t it?”
“Ford,” Gina and Fallon said at the same time. Of course, Gina said it with resignation and Fallon with more than a hint of surprise.
A heavy hush fell over their little group as Tess and Lucy looked from Gina to Fallon and back again. Then, they scooted their stools closer. They must have spotted something in her face because Tess handed Gina her still-full cup of rosé without a word.