When she gripped my arms, I swallowed hard again and then slid in to the hilt. Both of us groaned as I did.
“Devin.”
“Yeah. I feel it.” She looked at me then, her hands on the table, my hands on her hips. And then I moved. I worked in and out of her, slowly at first, pulling out inch by inch and then sliding back in just as slowly. It was if we were moving and rocking on a boat, ever so slightly, with a lull between each wave. And then I sped up, moving faster and faster until both of us were panting, and the sounds were wet and hot and needy. She pulled one leg up higher on my hip, and I went deeper, both of us moaning again.
When I shifted one hand from her so I could move it over her clit, my callused thumb sliding over her, she screamed my name, coming again. When she clamped down on my dick, I came, too. Filling her up even though I knew it was in the condom.
I groaned, the base of my spine tingling, and my balls tight as I orgasmed hard.
My legs shook. My knees were weak. She leaned on me, her body limp, and I knew that was possibly the best sex I’d ever had in my life.
And there’d only been a bit of foreplay.
Even as I was inside her, still semi-hard, still wanting more, I knew that this couldn’t just be the first and only night. There had to be more.
But I was so afraid she would say no.
She looked up at me then, sliding her hands through my hair as she smiled shyly. She looked timid every once in a while. But I didn’t usually think of her that way. She was strong. Had always been so strong.
“That was amazing,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”
I kissed her again, slowly working my tongue in and out of her mouth.
Then I pulled away and pulled out of her. I didn’t want to make a mistake with the condom, so that meant not staying inside her for as long as I wanted to.
“I’d better clean us up. But that was amazing, so fucking perfect.”
She blushed, and I helped her off the table.
I walked her towards the bedroom, thankfully easy to find since the layout of the house made sense. We moved to her bathroom, and I used a washcloth and warm water to clean her up and then myself after I had disposed of the condom.
It was a little awkward, knowing that our clothes were in the living room and both of us were naked in her bathroom, but I didn’t want to go back out there and get dressed just yet. It would feel a bit cold, slightly clinical.
“I don’t know if I cuddle afterwards,” she said, laughing. “And that’s a weird thing to say.”
“No, I was about to ask you if you liked to. I was going to carry you to the bed and do just that, but I didn’t want it to be too much for you on the first night.”
She nodded, sobering just a little. And it gave me a clutch in my belly. Fuck, would this be the brush off?
“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to use you in any way. I don’t normally do this. Or ever. I’ve never done this.”
“I know.”
Fuck.
“But I’m not looking for anything serious. I can’t. I’ve never not had serious. Does that make sense? Does that make me out to be like a slut or something?”
I growled and cupped her face. “Get that thought right out of your head. Even if this is the one and only night we ever do this, you’re not a fucking slut. You made a conscious decision, and we had very amazing sex. If this is all you want, that’s fine.”
Lie. Once wasn’t fine. But I wasn’t going to make her feel bad about herself either.
“Do you get me?”
She nodded. “I get you. It was just a stupid thought.”
“Not stupid. But fine. Just don’t have it again.”
“You can’t tell me what to think, Devin.”
“I can do my best. But…you don’t want serious? Okay. We can try that. ‘Cause I want to be your friend, Erin.” I didn’t really realize the truth of that statement until I had said the words out loud. But there they were. And I couldn’t take them back.
“Like friends with benefits?” she asked, that same shy look from before on her face.
“Well, yeah. We can make that work. Right?”
“Right.”
And even though she’d said the words, I had a feeling neither of us knew exactly what that meant.
But I didn’t want to say goodbye to her. Not fully. Not when I didn’t really know what was going on. I didn’t know what I wanted. And I had a feeling she didn’t really know either.
But what we’d had tonight? It meant something. I had a feeling we would have to figure out what that was.
Chapter 7
Erin
My lips were still swollen, I had beard burn on my inner thighs, and I was sore in all the right places. Yet I couldn’t really be too excited about it or think about it at all because I was waiting for Nicholas to show up.
How was this my life?
I legit didn’t know anymore.
I hadn’t seen my ex-husband since he left. Vacated the home we’d shared for years. He’d walked out of the house that day, but he’d walked out of my life long before that. Honestly, a little earlier than I’d even thought.
Because if he’d actually been with me this past year, maybe we’d have made it. Perhaps he’d have loved me.
Maybe I would still love him.
I rubbed the skin over my heart with my fist and let out a long sigh.
My thoughts felt like they were going in a thousand different directions. It was a little hard to think about the fact that I’d just been with Devin last night, and now this. I couldn’t process it. How was I supposed to sort through it all?
I didn’t remember what I had said to my friends after I slept with Nicholas the first time. I could only remember that it hadn’t lasted that long, and it had hurt—and not in a good way. But we had gotten better at it over time. Nicholas had been my only until now. My first. And until I walked in on him banging an ex-high school cheerleader, I had thought that he would be my one and only. My last. I had been so wrong. So wrong. But when it came to him, it seemed I had been wrong about a lot of things.
I didn’t like myself when I thought about him. I didn’t like that I felt like I was getting bitter, feeling a little more like I wanted to talk bad about him and just live in my angst and anger.
So, when I told him that I wanted a divorce, I had tried to push him out of my mind.
I had grieved the loss of our relationship. I had mourned for the person I no longer was. Honestly, I had even been sad about the years we lost.
But I didn’t know if I could really be at the point where I could say “well, at least we had those years. At least I had time to change and become the person I am.”
Because I currently stewed in my anger about Nicholas. I was steeped in a feeling of being lost and the fact that I didn’t know who I was anymore. So, I wasn’t sure I could say that I cherished the time we had together. It was as if a cloud of darkness had been painted over them, and I couldn’t quite comprehend exactly what had been good or bad.
There must have been some decent years. I didn’t like to think I was the type of person who would have stayed no matter how hard the bad spots got. Or when and if those bad spots became terrible. What I did know is that I couldn’t just push through the bad parts anymore. I didn’t know what that said about me. And because I didn’t know, I tried to push it all away and become a different person once the divorce was finalized.
But I wasn’t really sure what would happen next. With me. With Devin. Or with my ex-husband, who would be at my front door any minute.
I looked down at my hands and fisted them in front of me.
I had cried, and I had come home.
Cried.
Not from shame. But something was different inside of me. What we’d shared had been the best sex of my life. Perhaps one of the best moments of my life period.
And it had been shared with a man who wasn’t my husband.
I had thought that Nichol
as would be my forever, my happily ever after and all of that where you go riding off into the sunset with the love of your life. But that wasn’t meant to be. And now I had slept with another man. It had been different. And warm. And amazing. I had been brazen and loved it. I’d asked for exactly what I wanted and got it and more. Devin had been careful, caring, both hard and fast, exactly what I needed. Actually, he’d been exactly what I hadn’t known I needed.
But when I got home, it had been too much. I’d showered, washing him off, not because I didn’t want him to stay, but because I needed to find myself again.
What was wrong with me? Why did I have this need to constantly discover who I was when it didn’t make any sense at all?
I was still sore because it had been long enough at this point since I had been with any man, and Devin was different.
A good kind of different.
I didn’t know what that meant. Especially because I didn’t want another relationship. I had been honest with Devin, and I hoped he had been truthful with me. Because I had been there. Done that. I didn’t want to get married again. I didn’t want to rely on someone to the point where I could have my heart broken again. I wanted to find out who this new me was. Because I loved my job, and I enjoyed parts of my life. I just wanted to fix the rest of it. But I didn’t need a man to do that.
So, I would find this new Erin. The new woman who happened to sleep with Devin Carr.
And I would have fun, I would be respectful, and I would be respected at the same time. Because Devin would take care of me. And I would do my damndest to take care of him.
As long as neither of us had to truly rely on each other.
Maybe thinking that made me a bad person. But then again, I would find out exactly what kind of person I was, wouldn’t I?
I needed to put Devin out of my thoughts for now, though, because I didn’t want to think about him while Nicholas was in my territory.
I growled under my breath.
My ex had called that morning, waking me up after a nice sleep-in. I had the whole day off, something I tried to give myself once a week even if I didn’t always make it happen. And though I was still working online on things and planning things out, I wasn’t in the bakery. My staff was handling that part for me. It wasn’t easy handing over the reins, and I didn’t do it often, but today was supposed to be that day. So, of course, Nicholas just had to ruin it for me.
He always ruined things.
“No, I’m not going to think like that. I’m not going to let him wreck this for me.”
I growled just a little at myself and rolled back my shoulders as I paced my living room. When we split up our belongings and sold the house, Nicholas had moved into a small condo, not knowing what his next step was. That meant that all the junk he’d kept in the garage didn’t fit at his new place. And, for some reason, I had let him keep it in my new garage.
I shook my head. No, I knew exactly why I’d done it. He’d needled me, pressed me, and annoyed me to the point where I had just given in. Like I had so many times throughout our relationship. Most times, I didn’t even realize what had happened until it was too late. Like when he had been laid off from his other realtor firm when the housing market went bust, and I had given in to him taking some time off to figure out what he wanted to do. Or when he’d tried to open up his own firm and failed. I gave in then, too, and had been okay with him taking out a loan in both of our names because he was my husband. And I thought he knew best.
Thank God he had paid that off eventually. Thank goodness none of his debt was now in my name.
Because divorce hurt your credit, and I wanted nothing to do with Nicholas.
Thank God he hadn’t been on the deed to the bakery. I had gotten it on my own, mostly because I had been working for another bakery, so I had full-time income and a successful business plan. It hadn’t made sense to put Nicholas on the business since he wasn’t working for me.
Maybe some part of me had always known that things might get worse between us as time moved on. I didn’t know. All I did know was that I was beyond grateful that he couldn’t touch my future. I loved cake decorating. I adored making things for people that made them smile. And I loved baking things that tasted amazing.
Nicholas had never understood any of that.
He had always thought my baking was a hobby. But I made money on the side, moonlighting while working for other people.
I always had an extra cushion, so when Nicholas lost his job, we were okay. Things had been tight, sure, but we had been okay.
And things were okay now. Things weren’t as tight, even though I lived like they were.
And taking a day off for myself was good for my health.
Apparently, Nicholas was moving into a larger home and would have space for his stuff now. That meant he would finally take the boxes in my garage. Things I really wanted to burn or just toss into the garbage. Or, hell, give it all to charity as a donation and see what was in them. Because I hadn’t even opened them to peek.
Once or twice, I had thought that maybe there was drugs or something in them. Because I still didn’t know if him snorting coke off Becca’s boobs had been the first time or the last time or one of many. But a friend who had a canine drug dog had let him sniff around the boxes, and he hadn’t detected anything. I didn’t know if that was entirely on the up and up, but I hadn’t cared. I didn’t want to open them. Didn’t want to see evidence of any other secrets that might destroy another piece of me. Because I had been holding onto the parts of myself that I still had with broken fingernails as it was. I had been clawing to hold onto that remaining part of my soul. And I hadn’t wanted to tarnish anything else, didn’t want to lose anything else by opening a box. So, a friend had helped a bit. And based on that experiment, I didn’t think there were drugs in there. Because, hell, that would just be one more thing Nicholas would have tried to fuck me over with.
Before I could get myself worked up to a good mad again, the doorbell rang, followed by three sharp raps. A pause, and then four more knocks.
Nicholas was always in a hurry. Unless others were waiting for him, then he took his time. But when it was his time, everyone had to move fast for him. I hadn’t minded when we were younger because I had liked to move quickly, and things had made sense.
In retrospect, nothing had made sense. But there was nothing I could do about it now.
I took my time opening the door, maybe a little passive-aggressively, but this was my house. And I would not let Nicholas ruin this space with his energy. In fact, he didn’t even have to walk in the door. And I was going to make sure he knew that. I had reminded him of that on the phone, and he had been short and terse with me. He would just have to deal. I didn’t know when he had fallen out of love with me. I didn’t know when he had turned into the person he was today. But I didn’t want anything to do with him. Not anymore.
I opened the door and held back a grin as his hand stalled up in the air, probably readied to knock again, this time a little harder most likely. Maybe he would have even shouted my name. That would have been great for the neighbors. “Erin!” That loud voice of his would have carried to the neighbors’, and I would have had to deal with it later. Yay. He really just needed to leave. Maybe I should have given all of his stuff to Goodwill.
“It’s about time. Why the hell did you keep us waiting?”
“Hello, Nicholas.” I tried to smile, attempted to be peaceful, but then I realized that he had just said the word us. I turned to the left ever so slightly and did my best to keep the smile on my face. I would not be the bitter ex-wife. I would not become the person he wanted me to be. I would be the Erin I wanted to be. The woman I needed to be. “Hello, Becca.”
He had brought the cocaine-laden ex-cheerleader.
When had my life become a cliché? I wasn’t sure. But it was probably when Becca had shown up in it.
No, I would not blame her. Not her alone anyway. Nicholas had been the one to dip his dick in something
he shouldn’t have. He was the one who’d failed us. Maybe some of the responsibility was mine, but the pain I felt was all on him.
Though I refused to become bitter because of it.
“Seriously, Erin. I don’t know why you have to be this way. Come on now.” Nicholas tried to shoulder past me, but I stood my ground. Just folded my arms over my chest and stayed in the way of the door. “Your stuff’s in the garage, Nicky. You don’t need to come inside.”
I hadn’t even realized that I had let the word Nicky past my lips until I saw his eyes narrow. His cheeks went ruddy, and his jaw tightened.
Nicky. Exactly what Devin had called him. Maybe it was a little petty of me, but I couldn’t help it. He had brought Becca to my home. A place he had never shared with me. It made absolutely no sense other than for the fact that he wanted to rub her in my face. Frankly, the thought made me shudder. I didn’t want her rubbing anything on me. At all. So…no. I really didn’t want him in my space. I just wanted him gone. And I wanted to talk to Devin.
I quickly quashed that thought. I had been with Devin one night. I had gone on exactly one date, and I had initially met him again by humiliating myself in front of him. There was no way I would rely on him like that. I needed to depend on myself. I couldn’t put my faith in anyone else.
“What the hell did you just call me?” Nicholas asked through gritted teeth.
“Your stuff’s in the garage.” I wasn’t going to touch on his name. I hadn’t meant to call him that. I didn’t want to be that person. It had just slipped out. I’d always thought it was weird that he liked being called Nicholas and hated being called anything else. But it was his name, and I wasn’t going to be rude or annoying about it. I needed to be the bigger person. I hoped. Maybe.
“You’re not even going to let us inside?” he asked.
“That’s what she said,” Becca said, looking down at her phone. “Just get your shit and let’s go. I don’t even know why I had to come here. She shouldn’t even have your stuff anyway. I mean, who wants to live in this hell-hole?” She rolled her eyes, looking much like she had when she was eighteen and not like a woman who was now in her twenties. It was exhausting.
Breathless With Her: A Less Than Novel Page 8
