by Krista Wolf
“Yeah.”
“How—”
“I took a course one semester,” he chuckled from behind me. “I had some electives to fill.”
I have something you can fill, I thought dirtily.
I let my body relax entirely, as he continued the massage. Trey worked my back and shoulders first, applying just the right amount of pressure. He worked his way down each of my arms, then forearms, then hands. I groaned as he dug his thumbs into my palms. Rolled my wrists between his, then pulled each of my individual fingers tight.
By the time he moved to my back, I was covered head to toe in warm gooseflesh. Trey was working his way downward, squeezing every last ounce of pleasure out of every inch he covered. Everything just felt soo fucking good.
“How many girls have you massaged like this?” I asked, suddenly fiercely jealous.
“Only one that matters,” he said.
“Good answer.”
He worked my lower back for a bit, then dug into my ass. I was all but crying by the time he was done kneading my cheeks. A quivering pool of liquid bliss, melting into my own mattress.
Trey did my thighs, my calves, my feet. It was life-changing. Every last ounce of tension in my body dissolved away into nothing. I felt loose and limp. Totally at the mercy of his talented pair of hands.
Finally his palms moved back upward, sliding along the inside of my slick thighs. Trey stopped again, to apply more oil. This time he rubbed it between his hands first, to warm it up before putting it on my skin.
“Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite?” I groaned, as he inched his way closer to the heat between my legs.
“Haha,” he laughed. “I’ll bet you say that to all the boys.”
I closed my eyes, focusing solely on his touch. Feeling him brush my pussy ever so lightly with his fingers, before adding more and more pressure.
It wasn’t long before I was squirming down on him. Screwing myself into his hand, until he was rubbing his palm deliciously up and down the entire length of my sex.
“Okay,” I murmured, trying to sound stern. “Now you have to fuck me.”
Trey didn’t respond. He kept going even harder, applying more pressure, circling the area around my clit. He began toying with me. Rubbing the hood up and down over it, until my whole body was shuddering with the desperate need to be penetrated.
“Roll over.”
I did it so quickly and eagerly he actually laughed. I would’ve laughed too, but he had the bottle in his hand again, and was already squeezing the oil directly onto my chest.
“OHHHHHH!”
It splashed everywhere, coating me, chilling my skin everywhere it touched. I felt my nipples stiffen. My mouth opened in a wide gasp.
“Easy baby…”
Trey responded by covering my body with his. His lips crashed into mine, his tongue siding past my teeth in a long, slow, open-mouthed kiss.
It was indescribable, the feeling of so much oil. It was trapped between our naked bodies. A slick, slippery layer that took away all friction, allowing him to slide all over me as he continued kissing me into oblivion.
Fuck…
His body felt hard and amazing. I could feel every ridge, every ripple. His well-muscled chest. His double-column of panty-dropping abdominals, quivering against me, sliding ever downward as he shifted to position himself perfectly between my legs.
“You wanna fuck?” he whispered, burying his face in my ear. Even that was covered in oil. I could feel it all over my cheek.
“God yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to FUCK,” I grunted, accentuating the word. Those four little letters seemed suddenly harsher and dirtier than they’d ever been before.
“Tell me again.”
I ran my hands up his rock-hard arms, dragging oil everywhere. Then I slipped them over his shoulders to claw at his back.
“Fuck me Trey,” I growled, rolling my fingernails tightly against his skin.
The sudden threat of pain forced him to stiffen up. I pulled him back to me, sliding my slippery tits back and forth, all over his chest.
“Come on,” I urged, knowing what would set him off. “Give it to me…”
Down between our legs, everything was a hot, wet mess. Trey’s oil-soaked manhood was pressing against my oil-soaked entrance, which was already well-drenched on top of everything else.
He slid upward, pushing himself through my folds. But instead of going inside me, he began rubbing his shaft up and down along my clit.
It was pure agony. The worst possible torture.
“Are you fucking kidding?” I gasped, shifting downward. I had to have him. Needed to have him.
Trey’s only response was a wry smile. He matched my every movement. Pulled back every time I thrust my hips his way…
“Fuck!” I screamed in frustration. “You really know how to—”
It happened, all in a single glorious instant. One moment I was clawing and cursing in frustration, the next…
… the next, Trey had pushed the head of his cock downward, shoving it inside me with a wet ‘snap’.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh…
He shoved forward, hard, bearing down with all his weight. There was an explosion of pleasure as everything went inside me. All of it. All at once.
“Oh… my… fucking… God…” I managed to whimper, as he rolled up on his elbows and began pounding me into the bed.
Forty
BROOKE
I’d been in Chris’s office for twenty whole minutes before he showed up, which was earlier than almost everyone. I savored the look of surprise on his face as he froze, halfway through his doorway. For once, it was nice to see him at a disadvantage.
“W—Who let you in here?” he demanded angrily. His eyes shifted from me, to his computer, down to his mouse… which rested comfortably beneath my hand.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Was it Fred?” he snarled. “Or did you sweet talk the maintenance crew into—”
“Relax, big guy. It was nothing that elaborate.”
Chris was foaming at the mouth now. Practically slavering, right there in his own doorway. God, it was so great.
“You gave me the key…” I said, holding it up. “Remember?”
My ex-boyfriend’s face turned so bright red it was almost purple. He stomped over, reached out, and moved to violently snatch the key from my hand. At the last second I let it fall to the floor.
“Oops.”
He was so easily rattled. Always had been. But I was approaching his limits now, and from this point on I had to be careful. People like Chris always had simple limits.
“What are you doing here?” he growled. “Why are you on my computer? What have you—”
I rotated the chair and stood up, just as he swooped in to grab the mouse. I could see his eyes, scanning the desktop. Looking for any trace of what I might’ve done, or might still be doing.
The only thing he got was an eyeful of Solitaire.
“I always hated that game,” I said offhandedly. “Too little skill involved. It’s almost entirely the luck of the draw.”
“What is it you want Broo—”
“I want you to STOP FUCKING WITH ME,” I snarled, abruptly and savagely. “You need to stop following me, you need to stop harassing me, you need to stop showing up, trying to break into my apartme—”
“I did NOT break into your apartment!” he yelled. Boy, I could tell he was mad. Really mad.
“You need also need to stop skulking around in the middle of the night,” I said. “Stalking parking lots. Slashing tires, like some lame fucking coward.”
“Middle of the night?” he asked incredulously. “Slashing… tires?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I spat angrily. My voice was lower now, but still filled with acid venom. “You’re a lunatic, Chris. Out of your goddamn mind, and for what? All because you can’t have me?”
I could see that the words hurt. That
I’d hit on truth he still hadn’t fully faced, one that he was still denying.
“Well I have news for you,” I said. “You never had me.”
He started twitching. First his hands, then his wrists, then part of his face. It only happened when he was extremely upset, or extremely embarrassed. I didn’t know if it was either one or both.
“Even when you had me you never had me,” I said. “I was never yours. Not ever.”
There was no more beating around the bush, no more being nice or sparing his feelings about it. No, the time for that was long since over. I needed him to know.
“Stop telling people we’re still together,” I said, “including your sister. Especially your sister. And stop following me around wherever I go. I will call the police, Chris. I will get a restraining order.”
He stood there utterly motionless, stunned and stupefied. He’d even let go of the mouse.
“I wish I could go back in time,” I said, driving the point home. “I wish I’d never, ever gone to that stupid fucking Christmas party…”
“Me too.”
The new voice nearly startled me out of my skin! We both whirled, and there was Chloe, standing in the doorway.
“I wish you two had never gotten together,” my boss said. “Such a clusterfuck of a relationship. You keep fighting with each other. Yo-yoing back and forth, between—”
“I am not yo-yoing!” I cried, distancing myself from Chris. “We’ve been over forever. Contrary to what I’m sure he tells you, I have ZERO interest in your brother.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you here in his office?”
I stopped, instantly at loss. For five long seconds I couldn’t say a single thing.
“We work on the other side of the building, Brooke,” said Chloe. “Remember? Yet here you are, still hunting him down. Still having the same lover’s quarrel that you—”
“We are not lovers!” I shouted, adding an almost maniacal laugh. “Trust me. Your brother—”
“Her brother came in early to get some work done,” Chris cut in, addressing himself in the third person. “And found you sitting at his desk, screwing around with his computer.”
Chloe stared at Chris for a long moment. She blinked three times, then looked at me.
“Is that true?”
“You’re goddamn right it’s true,” Chris answered for me. “In fact—”
“Shut up little brother,” Chloe snapped. Her jaw went tight as she turned to face me. “I want to hear it from her.”
I was seething by now. Ready to explode at any moment, all over them, all over anyone and everyone. I didn’t care what Chloe thought anymore. At this point, I barely cared about anything.
“Your brother needs help,” I said coolly.
Chloe crossed her arms. “You’re not answering the question.”
I laughed, mockingly. “Hell, you’ve probably been making excuses for his antics your whole life, so you don’t even see it. It’s second nature for you. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that—”
“STOP!”
My boss hissed the word more than said it. She herself had reached a breaking point. The grim look on her face was that of an ice queen.
“Not another word from either of you,” Chloe said calmly, into the silence. “Not until I leave this office. And when I do? You’d better apologize to each other. You’d better make up, or agree to disagree, or make a pact to ignore each other for the rest of your lives for all I care. But you’d better agree on something when I walk out of here, or you both might be looking for jobs tomorrow.”
Chloe glared at us each one more time, then she spun on her heel and disappeared without saying a word. It left Chris and I looking back at each other, in uncomfortable silence.
I started for the door.
“Brooke wait,” he called after me. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”
I stopped, turned around in the doorway, and regarded him coldly.
“Yes,” I told him. “You should probably learn how to delete your browser history.”
As all the color drained from Chris’s face I shook my head in disgust.
“Very fucking creepy.”
Forty-One
BROOKE
The tiny spare rib popped and sizzled, dripping grease into the fire. The flames leapt up, engulfing it more. Caramelizing the outside skin, to a delicious dark-red color.
“Move over,” Adam prodded, poking his dumpling my way. “You’re hogging again!”
The place still had a few diners, even this late. It always did. King Wok made some of the best Chinese food in town, and their pu-pu platter was second to none.
“You don’t even need to cook the dumplings,” said Trey. “They’re already cooked.”
“Everything is pre-cooked,” said Adam.
Trey blinked in confusion, rolling his wooden skewer between three fingers. “So then why the hell are we sticking all this stuff in the fire to begin with?”
“Because it’s cool,” said Dante.
“And it’s fun,” I added with a smile.
It was the second night we were all back together. The first, we’d spent doing… other things. It felt good though, to be a foursome again. To be hanging out late after work, even if most of us had to get up early the next morning.
“So what’s that stuff under the flames?”
“You mean the bright blue chemical we’ve all been cooking on?”
“Yeah…” Trey replied, wrinkling his nose. “That.”
“It’s bright blue chemical,” said Dante, spearing another chicken wing. “Don’t worry, it’s good for you.”
“Perfectly healthy!” Adam laughed.
I waited until we’d all finished eating, until every tray on the pu-pu platter’s Lazy Susan was empty except for crumbs. Dessert came, some sort of strange custard surrounded by flambeed pineapple and candied cherries. I’d had it before and it was always delicious.
I told myself I was waiting for a lull in the conversation. What I was really doing was stalling for time. It was time to bite the bullet.
“So I have a confession to make,” I said. “Or rather, more of an update.”
Trey pulled the stem of a cherry from his mouth and regarded me thoughtfully. Dante halted his spoon mid-bite.
“I changed all of our names when submitting my infamous article,” I said. “Even Hannah’s.”
Adam leaned back a bit, into the shadows of the booth. Trey frowned.
“Awww, I kinda liked Hannah.”
“Me too,” I said. “But after what happened, I just wanted to distance our relationship from the whole thing. Let the article be the article. Let us be us.”
Adam and Trey remained silent. Dante continued with the spoon however, smacking his lips afterward. “Sounds fair.”
“Yeah…” I said hesitantly. “But here’s the kicker…”
“Oh boy,” Adam groaned.
“My boss isn’t having it.”
There really wasn’t any good way of saying it. Rather than be misunderstood, I’d gone with the ripping-the-Band-Aid-off method of delivering bad news.
“What do you mean your boss isn’t having it?” Trey asked.
“Exactly that,” I said. “Chloe already submitted part of an early draft to Cosmo. That included the ‘real’ names.”
“But they’re just first names,” said Adam. “They could be changed to anything.”
“I tried to tell her that. But our deal with Cosmo is tenuous, and she doesn’t want to ‘confuse’ them.”
The guys took the news the same way I had, with smirks and lot of head shaking.
“It’s shitty, I know. I even offered to reach out to the other editors myself, but Chloe’s forbidden me from making any sort of contact.”
We’d decided it all together; that I’d still put out my article. That I’d still give it to Chloe and she’d give it to Cosmo and we’d put the whole thing behind
us. Changing the names was a no-brainer. Only now…
“Look, I’ll understand if any of you change your mind,” I said. “If you do, I’ll kill the story. I’ll tell Chloe we’re not running it, and that’ll be that.”
“You can do that?” asked Dante.
“Yes. It was always a part of my contract that I had a kill switch on anything. I’ve never used it, but I will.”
“You’d lose your job though,” Trey pointed out.
I shrugged. “Probably.”
The guys still weren’t saying anything. I pushed my dessert away and heaved a sigh.
“At this point I don’t care about my job,” I said. “I mean sure, I love what I do, but I can always do it somewhere else. Wherever I end up, I’ll land on my feet.”
They were staring back at me, their faces blank.
“What I care most about,” I said, pointing to each of them in a circle. “Is this.”
A warmth rose up inside me as I said the words. They were heartfelt. I meant them. Best of all, it felt good to finally be able to mean them with someone. Or even better… three someones.
“I’ll tell her the story’s dead,” I said, reaching for the last of my drink. “First thing tomorrow—”
“No.”
The word came from Adam, but I could tell the sentiment came from all three. Trey and Dante were nodding slowly beside their friend, in a gesture of solidarity.
“Let the story run,” said Adam. “It’s important to you, Brooke. Important to your career. After all this is Cosmo. That’s a huge deal for you, and even more so for your magazine. We’re not going to let that die over a few little names.”
“Besides,” added Dante. “If we keep what we have together? We’ll have to come out of the closet regarding our relationship someday. One by one our friends and family are going to find out, regardless of whether we want them to. Some will be accepting. Some won’t.”
“All of them will be freaked the hell out,” Adam laughed, “but he’s right. Ultimately we want to do it on our own terms, not be exposed by some article. But hey, it’s only a few names.”
“A few first names,” Trey pointed out.
