I don’t know how it’s possible for him to pick up speed, or momentum, but he does. The vanity starts to creak with each frantic thrust. I come again and give up the marble rolling, bracing a hand on the mirror instead. I’ll definitely leave a juicy handprint behind. Which I’m sure Randy will love.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His head drops against my shoulder, and he bites his way across my neck. “All night long, Lily. I’m gonna be inside you every fucking minute you’re here with me.”

“Sounds like a good time.” I say, and then, because I can’t help myself, “But it’ll probably get a little awkward when we’re sleeping.”

“So fucking cheeky.” This time he uses more teeth, and I gasp. A smile tips his mouth, but it’s brief. He’s too close to coming to make more jokes.

He circles his hips, and the hand splayed across my chest comes up a little higher, resting below the base of my throat. “Your mouth, Lily. I want it.”

I turn my head and he kisses me, going deep. His other hand drops low, cupping me. He makes the same sound he did last time he came. So I fall down the rabbit hole again with him.

We’re both breathing like we’ve been running from the cops. And we’re sweaty. I’d be grossed out, but I’m too orgasm-saturated to care.

Randy carefully lifts my leg down from the vanity. I attempt to use the counter to help brace myself, but we’ve definitely done some damage. It’s pulling away from the wall. And it’s on an angle.

I hold on to his arm. My legs are seriously unsteady after that thorough fucking.

“Look what you did.” I push the vanity with one finger, and it wobbles.

“Look what I did? Look what you did.” He jiggles it. It sounds like drywall chunks hitting the floor. And possibly a tile.

“Stop! You’re going to make it break! How will you explain that?”

“Why am I explaining it? It’s your fault.”

“My fault? How is it my fault? You’re the one who busted in here on me. How did that happen anyway? I locked it! Were you some kind of juvenile delinquent as a kid? Are those your prison tats?”

He laughs.

“Stop!”

He takes my chin between his thumb and finger, tilting up. “You’re so cute I can’t even stand it.”

“I am not cute.” I push his hand away. He lets go, turns around, and pulls up his pants. He’s all tucked inside and hidden away when he swings back around, though his boxer briefs sit low and his pants are still undone.

He’s got what could possibly be an appendectomy scar, but it seems like the wrong place for that. He tosses the used condom in the garbage. Then reaches around me to turn on the tap, pinning me against the vanity.

“And you’re also sexy, so you shouldn’t be too upset about being cute.”

“Cute is for pink tutus and puppies, not grown women.”

“Mmm. I see.” He finishes washing his hands and takes my face between his wet palms.

“Ah! What the hell, Randy!”

He doesn’t answer, just kisses me while he smiles. I stop fighting against him and go with it, even though he’s making my face wet. He leans in, and the vanity cracks loudly. “You can’t tell me that was anything but ten-out-of-ten sex.”

“Probably even eleven. I need a shower.”

He gives me some space. “I’ll order us some room service.”

“You don’t want to join me?”

“Another time. I’m hungry, and you gotta be starving.”

“But you’re all sweaty.”

“I’m used to being sweaty; plus I’m totally happy smelling like this.”

He pats me on the ass and turns on the water. While I wash my hair he peeks through the curtain and reads me the menu. It’s already two by the time I’m done with my shower. I have nothing clean to put on, so I use one of the robes the hotel provides for guests who rent the nice rooms. I find Randy lying on the bed, watching Sportsnet.

He’s still shirtless and wearing jeans. He pats the bed. “Come hang out with me.”

I lie in the mound of pillows, and he slides an arm behind my back, pulling me close. It’s comfortable, which is a little unnerving. I get all cozy along his side and close my eyes. I’m so tired. Having two jobs is exhausting, as is multiple orgasms and awesome sex.

I must nod off, because suddenly Randy’s all up in my face, using my boobs to shake me awake. I open my eyes with a frown.

He’s smiling. “Food’s here!”

“Nice.”

We sit cross-legged on the bed, and I devour the entire personal pizza he ordered for me. It was only six slices. “I’m so full.” I lean back against the pillows and rub my belly through the robe. “And sleepy again.”

“So catch a nap.”

I check the clock. It’s already three-thirty. “I have to leave in an hour.”

He frowns. “And you’re off at what time?”

“Not until ten.”

“You should call in sick.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not sick.”

“So? Come on, call in.” He crawls up my body and lies to the right of me. “I don’t have another Toronto game for a month, and I doubt you can get a whole weekend off to come to a Chicago game.”

I run my fingers through his hair, debating.