I’m not sure what I enjoyed more. Hamilton. Or Thomas, showing up.
I mean, he actually came. He showed up. A part of me knew he would. At least, I’d hoped he would. But a smaller part of me was trying to prepare myself for if he never showed. For when the calls and voicemails would stop. I was preparing myself for the best and worst decision of my life. I was preparing my heart for a heartache I knew I’d never recovered from.
I can’t believe Valerie pulled this off. She kept all of this a secret. I’m starting to think she didn’t even have a date with business suit man last night.
And now... now we’re walking the sidewalks of New York. Hand in hand. It’s risky being out in public like this, but it’s New York. Sometimes it’s faster to walk than it is to drive. It was Thomas’s idea, not mine. I’m not sure if it’s because he wants to get back to the hotel and talk or be a part of the city life. It’s crazy. It’s loud, and as messed up as it sounds, it feels normal. So normal.
As we enter the hotel, I immediately drag Thomas through the lobby as a fan screams out. The hotel manager comes running out from behind the front desk. Taking us to the service elevator as the growing number of fans becomes too much. Their yells echoing across the lobby and spilling out to the sidewalks.
We follow the hotel manager to the service elevator. The sound of the screams following us. I can feel my heart in my ears as I’m preparing for us to run. But like before, I have to keep telling myself to stay calm. We’re inside, and the manager has everything under control. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. It won’t be the last. When I look over my shoulder, I see four employees keeping the crowd back before security guards take over.
“We will have room service sent up to your room immediately,” I hear the hotel manager say.
Wait? My room?
Or is Thomas staying here too?
He never mentioned it, but what hotel he’s staying at also didn’t’ come up in conversation. I’m about to ask whose room when I’m suddenly pulled into the elevator. The doors closing, and I noticed a floor number lit. But I’m unable to see which floor we’re heading to as Thomas hovers over me. Pinning me against the elevator wall.
And suddenly it’s hot in here. Extremely hot. I mean the Sahara Desert hot. Looking into his bright green eyes, I’m finding it hard to concentrate with the amount of lust and longing being seared into me.
“I never told you what floor I’m staying on,” My voice betraying my sudden arousal. His proximity is stirring awake my core and making me want to hit the stop button for the elevator.
Thomas studies me as I watch him raise a hand to my cheek. The tips of his fingers tracing along my jawline. I’m watching him closely, wanting him to do what he’s thinking. Wanting those dangerously gorgeous lips on my mouth. To know that taste, to feel myself come alive from more than just his touch alone.
“We’re not going to your room,” He whispers. “And I’m....” He trails off. His fingers picking up a lock of hair and gently rolls it between his fingers as he draws closer. His chest, pressing against me and that scent. God, how I’ve missed his scent.
“You’re what, Thomas?” I encouraged as I bite my lip.
He growls, “Have I told you how much that drives me nuts?”
Smiling, I keep my lip between my teeth. Raising my hand, I begin to trace an imaginary line running along the path of the buttons on his dark purple shirt. Down to the waistband of his pants, “No. Have I told you how you just drive me fucking nuts?”
Taking me by sudden surprise, he snakes his hand to my back, pulling me into him, and before I can register that this is not a dream, his lips are on mine. Thomas is kissing me, and I’m kissing him right back. My hands in those soft locks that I remember. The taste of him divine, and threatening to cause me to combust. There is a faint sound of a ding, but I’m so damn lost in what feels like a damn dream. We’re in our own little safe bubble – no one else can penetrate it. It’s finally just us.
“Ahem. Sir? Ma’am?”
Without acknowledging the maid with her cart, Thomas pulls me out of the service elevator, and I can’t help but giggle. The rush, and the thrill sending my nerves to quiver with a want I know Thomas will only ever be able to fill.
He lets go of my hand, if only for a second, to pull out the keycard from his wallet. As soon as he touches the keycard to the door, we fall through the door. Thomas pins me to the wall, his lips instantly on mine as his hands cups my butt cheeks, urging me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, my hands in his hair. I do the one thing that I swore I’d never do. Not with anyone, ever again. I surrender the control that I’ve held onto for so long. But I only want him to have it.
Pulling away, Thomas rests his forehead against mine. Our breaths ragged and heavy, “Ryann, we should slow down.”
My heart sinks slightly - I don’t want to slow down. I don’t want to talk. Lowering myself back to the ground, my fingers start to trail down his chest. Thomas is no longer seems confident or seems sure of what to do. I watch his hands float in the space around us before they fall slightly to his side. Slowly, I start to unbutton his dress shirt. Not interested in the least of slowing down. Untucking his shirt, I move on to his belt – the buttons of his pants. “You really want to slow down?” I ask as I look up at him through my lashes, biting my lower lip.
His pupils dilate, giving me my answer. Reaching for his hand, I bring the tips of his fingers to my mouth and slowly suck on one. My tongue running up and down the length before I trail his hand down my chest, the tips of his fingers gliding over my exposed skin, only to let go and leave him resting between my breasts. His breathing is erratic as the tips of his fingers start to create small and sensual circles against my cleavage. My core heating as my body starts to move to a new and exciting rhythm that I want. Arching my hips, I take his shirt by the lapels and pull him closer.
“Because I don’t want to slow down,” I feel his hand move from my chest and down my side. The tips of his fingers dancing up my thigh as the material of my dress starts to bunch up with his hand. “Please, Thomas.” I practically beg. He’s teasing me as his fingers start to trace along my panty line, and it’s driving me insane and causing my core to clench with anticipation.
Thomas pins me against the wall again; I can see a sly smile forming along the corners of his mouth, “Are you giving up that control?”
Biting my lip, I nod my head. My mouth is instantly met with an intense and feverish kiss. Thomas bites my lower lip, the jolt forcing a moan to escape. “That’s not an answer, babydoll.” He coos.
“Fuck, Thomas,” I cry out. His finger flicking across my pulsating bundle of nerves. “Yes.”
Our mouths collide as I’m lifted from the ground again. My legs wrap around Thomas’s waist as he carries me into the hotel room. My hands in his hair, tugging at the roots. His moans are primal, and I can’t help myself but pull harder.
Thomas slowly lowers me to the bed, my back is met by the soft material of the mattress. Thomas pulls back, and I watch him slide out of his dress shirt and his white undershirt off. Kicking out of my heels, I find myself gawking. His, my god, his muscles are fucking delicious. His abs are more defined, and there is the start to that mouthwatering V. His biceps, how the hell did I not notice the size until now.
Kneeling between my legs, Thomas gives me an all-knowing cocky smile. He knows what I’m thinking and how turned on I am. It’s been a constant battle of seeing who could drive the other to a new level of sexual tension and frustration. But not tonight. Tonight, I want Thomas. I want all of him, and I don’t want to share him. With anyone. I need to leave my mark. Even if what we have can’t be known, I will leave my mark.
He pulls my dress over my head, tossing it to the floor below. Our mouths colliding as he fumbles with his pants, and I can’t seem to get out of my underwear fast enough. We’re hot, and we’re impatient with a need that we’ve been denying since the first day we met.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask against his lips. It’s not like I’m worried he has an STD, though I guess that’s possible. And I’ve been tested several times when I entered rehab. I’m clean. Plus, I have an IUD. But I know anything is possible, and birth control can fail.
Thomas pulls away, grabbing his wallet from the floor, and pulls out a condom. He kneels between my legs, his cock on full-hard display. Reconnecting our lips, I take the condom out of his hand and rip it open. I’m greedy. I want him inside me. I want him to make me come.
Breaking the kiss, I take hold of his cock. His breath catches as I pump him. Slow at first, but my movements become quicker. Priming him.
Thomas stops my actions, “Put the damn condom on.” He commands, trying to keep himself composed.
I bite my lip as a large sense of satisfaction washes over me. He’s just as hot and bothered as I am. Placing the condom on, Thomas slowly lowers me back to the bed as he centers himself, his head at my entrance, and it’s taking everything in me not to arch my hips up.
“You need to tell me if I’m hurting you or if you want to stop,” Oh, he’s serious.
My heart swells. I’ve never had anyone give me an out before, “Okay.” My voice is soft and meek. And I’m starting to feel anxiously nervous. Almost as if this were my first time.
With the thrust of his hips, he enters me partway. I immediately tense up as memories start to come back, and I can feel myself starting to panic.
“Open your eyes, Ryann,” Thomas urges, his hand at my cheek, urging me to open my eyes with soft strokes of his thumb against my cheek.
As soon as I connect my eyes with Thomas, my panic vanishes. I can only see him. The memories are forgotten as he fills me completely. My walls, expanding to welcome him.
With each thrust, I feel my core tightening. The strokes deep and hitting every sensitive spot imaginable. My body ready to release as my moans become louder.
“Thomas,” I pant.
His thrusts pick up, and with each grunt, I know he’s closed too as the passion builds between us. And before I’m able to control my body any longer, I cry out his name. My nails, digging into his shoulders as I come. Thomas following right behind me as he grunts out his orgasm, my name twisted with his moans of release.
He collapses on top of me, somehow keeping most of his weight off my front. We’re a panting mess of sweat and jelly limbs. My hand flops lazily into his hair as my finger sprawl out in its dampness. Looking up at me, he gives me a lop-sided lazy smile. He looks so relaxed and carefree. And I love seeing this side of Thomas, a side that is rarely ever seen.
Thomas slowly withdraws from me, and I wince slightly – my body immediately missing and craving the feel of Thomas inside of me. And the way he makes me feel. With all of my fuck-upness, he somehow sees me. The real me and he doesn’t care what my past once held.
I watch Thomas get up from the bed and remove the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the waste can. When he comes back to bed, I’m sitting up. Not really sure what to do. I don’t feel awkward. There isn’t any of that awkward post-coital tension between us, but I’m not sure if he wants me to stay or leave. Now I’m the one who is unsure what to do.
I watch him crawl into bed, pulling the covers back almost like he’s waiting for me. “Come here.” He urges with a smile.
Grinning back, I scramble to the head of the bed and into his arms as he covers us with the heavy comforter. His scent a new mixture that I love even more. Vanilla, cinnamon, and sex. Our scent.