My Greatest Mistake

by T Gephart

  “Is that just for show or do you know how to use it?” Her brow rose as I slowly unbuttoned the front of my shirt.

  I laughed, my shucked jacket dropping to the floor, my shirt following it quickly after. I’d meant to make her wait, for her to watch me as I slowly peeled off the layers of my suit, but I was impatient.

  Her elbows lifted her off the bed, her vantage giving her a better view. I liked her eyes on me as I undressed, the hungry dark expressive pools framed by inky black lashes not moving from my body as I revealed more and more skin.

  It wasn’t long before I was naked, standing at the foot of the bed before once again sinking to my knees.

  “Wait,” she protested. “I want to touch you.” Her hand reached out as she shuffled into a sit.

  The chuckle escaped my throat as my fingers moved to her ankles. “You can touch me in a minute, sweetheart. Just let me finish what I started.”

  She watched with interest as I unbuckled the fastening on either side of her ankles and then slid the heels off her feet. Her toes were painted in a deep red, each perfect digit wiggling as I released them. Next was the bra, my fingers tracing up her legs and then hips, following the curves of her body to the swell of her breasts. It was easy to get distracted, to give them the attention they deserved. But I had an objective, and even aroused I could complete a task.

  It didn’t take more than a flick, the fabric falling away from her back and dropping into her lap. I tossed it to the pile of clothes on the floor before turning my eyes back to her so I could appreciate her completely bare.

  Her skin was smooth, the tiniest strip of hair kissing the top of her slit.

  A groan spilled from my mouth, sounding more animal than human as my knees planted themselves either side of her.

  She was beautiful, and sexy, and so goddamn delicious there was no chance one night was going to be enough with her. Not that I was going to bring that up, willing for the argument to be made after I’d been deep inside her, and made her come at least two more times.

  I was about to reach down to my pants for a condom when her head dropped forward, her lips making contact with my cock. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuckk.” All thoughts paused as tingles moved down my shaft.

  What started off as a sweet kiss, got a whole lot dirtier as she sucked me in. Her cheeks hollowed, her lips stretching around my crown as she took as much of my length in as she could, her hands tightening around my girth.

  “Jesus, that feels good,” I hissed out, my fingers threading in her hair as her head bobbed. The wet pop of her lips made it almost impossible to stay still, my hips gently fucking her mouth as she continued to jerk me off.

  Coming in her mouth was something else I’d fantasized about, right along with watching her ride me. But I was torn as to what I wanted first, seeing her bright eyes looking up at me as she took me deeper into her throat almost doing me in.

  “Zara.”

  Her name was all I could manage, not having the ability to form sentences while she was sucking my dick like that, my chest rising and falling as I tried to stave off the high.

  “Not coming,” I grit out, trying to convince myself more than anyone else as I pulled my cock from her beautiful puffy lips. “Not yet.”

  “I bet I could make you.” Her eyes so full of defiance there wasn’t a doubt in my mind.

  And fuck me, it was a bet I desperately wanted to take. To see how long I could draw it out, and which of us had the stronger will. But I wasn’t feeling particularly masochistic, and I still had a few more orgasms I needed to deliver on.

  “You think so, do you?” I taunted back, taking a reprieve from her gorgeous mouth to get that condom. “That get you off, Zara?”

  And as much as I wanted to know the answer, I was done talking, tearing the latex from the foil and sheathing myself. I gripped myself hard around the base and tugged, the idea of not being inside of her no longer acceptable.

  “Yes.” A wispy moan followed out the word as her body softened against the bed. “Yes.”

  “Yes, to what?” My mouth went to her throat as I flattened myself against her, using the ridge of my erection to rub her clit. “You’ve got to be more specific, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as I moved up and down her slick center, the head of my cock just barely pushing in. “Yes, it gets me off,” she ground out, tilting her pelvis to get me in deeper. “The idea of making you lose control turns me on so much.”

  She wasn’t the only one, and I was so turned on that I sunk into her with one firm deep stroke. I’d wanted to go slower, to tease her a little longer. But plans had a way of changing, especially when she was involved.

  “Like this?” My elbows accepted my weight, doing my best not to crush her. “You want to see me lose control, Zara?” I pulled out fast, plunging back in, each thrust getting deeper. “Tell me how crazy you want to make me?”

  Faster.

  Deeper.

  Harder.

  Her legs wrapped around my hips, tilting her pelvis so I could get in deeper. Her lips were still glossy from having sucked my dick while her perfect perky tits bounced with every thrust.

  Jesus.

  Christ.

  She wanted me out of control and that was exactly what she was going to get, any restraint I’d had falling to the wayside as I pumped into her.

  “Tell me.” The caged words barely making it past my clenched teeth. “Tell me, Zara, because I’m about to lose my goddamn mind, baby.”

  “Yes, yes. I want it all. Just like that,” she panted, matching each rock of my hips with one of her own. “I want you crazy, Lincoln. So fucking crazy.”

  The request wasn’t needed, she had me exactly where she wanted me and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

  My head reached down and kissed her, our mouths just as hungry as the rest of our bodies as I felt her fall apart underneath me. I swallowed her scream, taking all she had to give me until I couldn’t hold out any longer. My body shook as I shot my load, her pussy squeezing my shaft as I came hard, watching her eyes widen as she continued to pulse.

  “Zara.” Her name whispered between kisses, dragging my hips in and out of her until the last of her tremors had subsided. I wanted to own all of her pleasure and for her to own mine, my lips kissing her until a contented smile spread against them.

  Her fingernails grazed against my spine, tracing the contours of my back. “Hmmm, that was good.”

  “Good?” I scoffed in disbelief. “That was at the very least great. But if you want to turn this into some kind of a challenge, Zara, I’m not the kind of man to back down.”

  “Fine, fine, it was great.” She laughed, pressing her cheek against my chest. “Such an egomaniac. If I tell you it’s the best sex I’ve ever had, will it make you feel better?”

  “Would that be the truth?” I asked, wanting to believe it but not conceited enough to assume.

  She rolled her eyes, her head relaxing against the pillow as I gently eased out of her. I’d done my best to not smother her under my weight, rolling onto my side and lying beside her. “I’m not interested in platitudes, sweetheart. Because Zara, I’d prefer you tell me what’s really on your mind rather than what you think I want to hear.”

  I’d never cared with other women. Happy to hear them tell me what a good lay I’d been, and not interested in whether it was the truth. Not that I’d ever left anyone unsatisfied, but I’d never given much thought on how I’d stacked up. But with her, I wanted to be the best. To have made her come so hard that she wasn’t going to forget it.

  The breath slowly pushed past her beautiful lips as she turned onto her side to face me. “You were really, really good.” Her slow smile lit up those dangerous dark eyes. “But . . . you know, if you feel like you have a point to prove, I’m happy to let you do that.”

  “Oh, really?” I asked, nipping her playfully on the shoulder. “How generous of you.”

  Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Generosity is just one of my virt
ues, Lincoln.”

  “Yeah?” My fingers traced her shoulder, following her smooth skin down the length of her arm. “Let’s see what your others are.”

  Zara

  It was late when I woke up, the bed still warm but empty.

  I hadn’t planned on spending the night, determined I was just going to have sex with him, get him out of my system and then go home. Then I could move the hell on and hopefully remember why he was such a bad idea to start with. Because avoiding him and trying to forget him hadn’t worked out. And maybe he could be a one-night stand even though we’d sailed waaaaaaay beyond casual and he knew too much.

  But.

  All those decisions had been made before I’d slept with him. Before I knew how amazing sex with him was and how incredible he’d make me feel. And I’d had decent sex before, it wasn’t like I’d been slumming with average penis my whole life and I’d finally met a man who knew what to do with it. But he was different. Attentive. Deliberate. Slow and also fast. Gentle, yet firm and rough too. He gave it all to me, and when I’d casually mentioned he was the best sex I’d ever had, it was not a joke.

  He.

  Was.

  The.

  Best.

  Of course, after I’d said it I’d immediately regretted it. Worrying I was inflating his already ridiculously large ego and setting myself up for the biggest cliché of all time. You know the one, the delicate flower who hasn’t ever been fucked properly. “Wow, your cock is so big, how is it ever going to fit,” and “Oh, no man has ever made me come sooooooo hard before, I’m totally ruined now.” Eye roll.

  Well, one of those was sort of true. He had made me come hard, repeatedly, so I knew it wasn’t just a fluke. Meant the bar for future sex had definitely been raised.

  And after my multiple orgasms and the lack of him asking me to leave—I’d assumed since he’d gotten what he’d wanted, he’d show me the door—I decided to stay.

  Mostly, because I was curious. Would it be awkward, with subtle hints that I was overstaying my welcome? Or would he summon his driver while I was in the bathroom and tell me my ride home was ready? Or would he want me to stay? I hated how much I wanted it to be the last option, how easy it was just to curl up with him and go to sleep. Because we couldn’t work, right? He was just a silly obsession that started because of a mistake.

  Which is why it didn’t make sense how happy I was when he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me goodnight. He held me the whole time, his gentle kisses suspending me somewhere between a dream and reality.

  So, I was more than a little disappointed when I woke up and those arms—and kisses—were gone, and I was alone between the sheets.

  My fingers wrapped around the covers to pull them over my exposed skin, I felt so naked in that room, and I didn’t mean just physically. I was halfway between deciding to just get dressed and leave or hang around and see when he was going to come back when the door unlocked, footsteps making their way back toward the bed.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.” His smile beamed, one hand holding a cardboard drink carrier housing coffee I assumed, and a large paper bag in the other. “I tried to wake you to see if you wanted to go get breakfast, but you told me to shut the fuck up and go get you a bacon cream cheese bagel.”

  I laughed, my hand flying to my mouth. “Wait, I actually said that?” The vague memory of being hungry and really wanting a bagel coming back into focus. We’d ordered some room service throughout the night, but that had been hours ago. And sex made me hungry.

  He waved the bag, his grin widening as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, looking so just as comfortable being casual as he did in a suit. “I got you two. And a fruit salad, and three chocolate chip cookies. You’re kinda mean when you’re hungry, I wasn’t going to risk coming back in here without adequate supplies.”

  I shook my head, strangely not embarrassed by my rude and obnoxious demand. He made it easy for me to be myself, to not feel self-conscious about the things I said, did, felt. “Well, you made me leave the gala without staying for dinner.”

  “Oh, I forgot the part where I took you hostage and forced you to leave.” He chuckled, the fake shock thick in his voice. “Also seem to remember the tray of food that was delivered just after midnight, pretty sure I didn’t eat it all myself.”

  “It’s not the same as bacon cream cheese bagels,” I argued.

  “Clearly.” He pushed the bag closer. “Which is why I took a cab to the West Village and got you some from Shlasky’s. People will argue there are better ones in the city, but they’d be wrong.”

  “You took a cab?” My hands grabbing for the bag, the smell of salty bacon and freshly baked bagels wafting through the opening. “What happened to Terry?”

  He scoffed, taking a coffee for himself before resting the other on the nightstand beside me. “Jesus, Zara, it’s Sunday morning, how heartless do you think I am? He drove Nate home last night. I’m not going to wake him up when I can just as easily catch a cab.”

  It was funny how much his obvious consideration—both for Terry and me—warmed my soul. He could’ve easily called his driver—since it was literally his job—and asked him to go to the deli. Or just gotten something down the street. There were bagel trucks and delis on almost every street corner. But he’d gone to one he thought was the best.

  For me.

  I tried not to get caught up in the significance of it, but couldn’t help but be touched by his sweetness. Edwin wouldn’t have been so thoughtful, probably asking me to order from a room service menu like most guys. But Lincoln was different, and so surprising in all the right ways.

  “Thank you.” I hugged the paper bag to my chest. “This is . . .” I tried to find the right words without getting overly emotional. The man got me breakfast; it wasn’t a big deal. “Really nice.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a sip from his coffee while holding out his other hand. “I got myself breakfast too. Mine is the bacon, egg and cheese.”

  I pulled out the wrapped bundles, peeking through the paper and seeing which was his. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d gotten me two. My bagels lowered onto the bed as I emptied the rest of the bag.

  As promised, there was a fruit salad, cookies, and a blueberry muffin he hadn’t mentioned. All of it laid out in front of us like a makeshift picnic as we sat cross-legged on the bed. I was still very naked, the sheet dropping as I moved, something I noticed when I caught his eyes staring.

  “Anyone would think you haven’t seen a pair of breasts before.” I yawned, stretching to give him a better view and secretly liking the attention. “I thought we were eating.”

  He licked his lips, leaning forward to kiss me. “We are, but I can multitask. And your breasts are exquisite, all the others I’ve seen can’t even compare.”

  He was lying obviously but I didn’t care, happy to live in whatever delusional fantasy world he wanted to be in, especially since he’d brought me food.

  I kissed him back before giving him a playful shove. “So a blueberry muffin, huh? How did you know they’re my favorite?”

  He sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling and cursing softly under his breath. “I knew I should’ve taken it out of the bag and smuggled it in.”

  “I’ll share my cookies,” I offered. “And the fruit salad.”

  “Just take it all, Zara.” He huffed dramatically, pointing at the muffin sitting between us. “But don’t even think about putting on a shirt. If I’m going to give up my blueberry muffin, I’m going to get to stare at your spectacular tits while you eat it.”

  I laughed, arching as I picked it up and took a nibble. “Fair trade.”

  We ate right there on the bed, my usual concern about crumbs in the sheets missing in action as we relaxed into an easy conversation. I fed him bits of my newly acquired blueberry muffin, and let him taste my superior bacon bagel. He maintained that the bacon, egg, cheese combo was by far the better option, refusing to conc
ede.

  He asked about Belle, about Hayley and the baby, and even about my work. And I asked him about his family, if he missed being away and how many meetings he had lined up for the week.

  Deep down I knew they were conversations we shouldn’t have been having. The interest in each other’s lives not conducive to the casual hook-up the night before was supposed to be. It was hard, reminding myself I was eventually going to have to leave, and that as wonderful as it all felt, nothing had really changed.

  Why did he have to be so goddamn perfect?

  Couldn’t he have been an asshole, or less sweet, or even just less amazing in bed. I’d have taken any of those options, finding it more difficult the more time I spent with him to motivate myself to leave.

  And I obviously had to leave, I’d been the one who’d insisted it was only going to be one night. He’d probably been on his best behavior, giving me one night of the best version of himself, knowing he’d never have to repeat it.

  Now, if only I could make myself believe that.

  “You want to go get a shower?” He cleared the trash, smoothing over the sheets and the comforter with his palm. “They come through and clean the room around eleven, and I usually go and take a walk around the city so I’m not in the way. Figured since you’re here, you might like to join me.”

  A walk around the city on a Sunday afternoon sounded fantastic, especially given the company. But that was skating dangerously close to a line I was nervous to cross, especially since I had no idea when he was leaving.

  “I should get back home. Belle will require an update, it’s easier if I just get it over with.” The excuse sounded lame even to me, the disappointment unable to be kept out of my tone.

  He nodded, knowing it wasn’t a total lie, the stream of unread messages flashing on my phone proof of that. “I could come with you, be your exhibit A.”

  “What?” I laughed, assuming he’d been joking. “You want to come home with me?”

  He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “You worried I’m going to present a different version of events? Besides, surely Belle is going to need cereal or apple juice or tampons, so she’ll probably just call me later.”