She cries out loudly as the orgasm ripples through her. I keep my mouth on her, not stopping until she’s writhing in pleasure, pushing me away because she can’t physically handle any more. Both her hands go to the top of my head, and I slowly move away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Chloe’s cheeks are flushed, and it’s so fucking hot to know I’m the reason for it. I’m the one who made her come so hard there’s a wet spot on the bed now. Her eyes are still closed, and she’s breathing hard, breasts rapidly rising and falling. I move back on top of her, pulling my boxers down before I settle between her legs. She needs a few seconds to recover, so I kiss her forehead and brush her hair out of her face.

Chloe inhales deeply and opens her eyes, looking right at me. Then she puts her lips to mine, and knowing she can taste herself on my lips does me in. I can’t wait any longer. I need her.

Now.

I guide my cock to her entrance and kiss her again as I push inside. She holds me tight against her, bending her legs and rocking her hips along with mine. I could come right now, and I grit my teeth, not wanting to finish until she comes for the second time.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take her long, and the second I feel her pussy tighten around my cock, I let my head drop against hers and push in balls deep, coming harder than I ever have before. We’re both panting, and I slowly pull out, moving to the side and wrapping my arm around her.

“I came inside you three times,” I pant, hating that I’m killing the moment, but the thought suddenly dawns on me. I’ve spent the last several years fucking a lot of women, trying to fill the void in my heart that only Chloe could fill, but in all those times, I was always very careful to practice safe sex.

“I’m on birth control,” she tells me, voice still breathy. “I have been for years.” She runs her fingers up and down my arm. “I get really bad cramps and it helps. I have super light periods now, which I’m thankful for. And you probably don’t want to know that.”

“If I’m having sex with you, you can talk about your period.”

“That is fair.” She lifts her head off my chest and smiles. “So then it’s okay for me to tell you too that I’m going to get up and pee because I don’t want to get a UTI.”

I playfully smack her ass. “And as a doctor, I approve.”

She gets up and hurries to the bathroom, returning just a minute or two later. The bed isn’t made, and she settles in it, snuggling under the blankets.

“I never got dressed for dinner,” she says, looking up at me.

“It wouldn’t have mattered since I undressed you anyway.”

“Good point.” She traces her fingers up and down my chest. “I was going to and do my hair and makeup, but I was really into what I was writing and thought I’d have more time, and well…I’m kind of a procrastinator.”

“I remember.” I smile and kiss the top of her head. “You can blame it on being an artist now, right? Artists are allowed to be flakey.”

“Well, good,” she laughs. “Because I can be from time to time. Not flakey like you can’t depend on me, but flakey like I lose track of time really easily and forget about things.”

“I’ll remind you. I’m good at remembering things and have three alarms set in the morning because the thought of being late to work gives me anxiety.”

Chloe laughs again. “We’re a good fit then.”

“Yeah.” I tighten my hold on her. “We are.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave either…but we need to talk about it. We’re hours apart…you’re okay with that, right?” I ask, almost afraid of her answer. I finally got her back in my life—the right way. I’m not going to lose her again.

She lifts her head off my chest. “Yes, I’m okay with it. It will be hard, but very much worth it.”

“It will.” I run my fingers up and down her arm, feeling sleepy now myself. There’s no fooling ourselves: long-distance relationships suck. Starting a new one, long-distance sucks even more. But she’s right: it’s worth it. We’re both able to travel relatively easily, Chloe more so than me, but when I’m not at work I’ll happily take off to LA since there’s nothing in Chicago holding me back. “We’ll figure it out,” I promise her. “Nothing is going to keep us apart.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chloe

It was harder than I thought to say goodbye to Sam. He stayed the night on Monday, and we were together until he had to go back to his parents’ house to say bye to his family and get his things. I spent the rest of Tuesday writing, missing him already. We only have a few days until we see each other again, and the cold hard truth is we have to get used to this long-distance thing. It just sucks so fucking much. It took us how long to finally get together and now we’re still apart. It’ll take time to figure out what actually works for us, I know.

Today went by fast, at least. I ended up staying up until four-thirty in the morning writing after Sam left on Tuesday evening—and made a lot of progress with my book—and then slept in until eleven. I had lunch with Rory, and Dad and Wendy came back here and we ordered pizza and had a late dinner.

Sam didn’t get home until close to nine tonight, and he FaceTimed me as soon as he got to his apartment. We texted throughout the day, and we’ll talk again tomorrow. I’m in bed now, looking at flight information. I was going to stay here and go right to Chicago since it’s not that far, but I miss Spartan and I need a whole different type of wardrobe for a hot weekend with my boyfriend.

I fall back into bed, smiling like crazy.

I book my flight home for tomorrow afternoon. It doesn’t give me much time to be in LA, but I don’t need much time. I just need to do some laundry, visit my big guy, quickly repack for the weekend, and spend the rest of my time typing away. I didn’t finish my book this trip like I hoped, but my inspiration is back and the words are flowing.

I screenshot my flight info and text it to Sam. He told me he turns his phone to silent at night, and he tries to be in bed around ten when he has to get up early for work the next morning. We have very different schedules, and it will be interesting to see how it works—I’m getting ahead of myself.

It’s easy to, though, and I can’t help but think with absolute certainty things crashed and burned with every single other person I dated because Sam and I were meant to be together all along. I turn off the bedside lamp and plug my phone in, settling down in bed. The nighttime chorus of katydids and crickets fills the room, and I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

“Don’t freak out,” I say into the phone to Farisha. Dad just dropped me off at the airport, and after a bit of a tearful goodbye, I collected myself and got through security and to my terminal in record time.

“When you start a conversation with don’t freak out, I know you have freak-out-worthy information.”

“Oh, I do.” I angle my body away from the older lady who sat right next to me, even though there are plenty of open seats. “I slept with Sam.”