by Nikki Sloane
I slowly shook my head, keeping my eyes glued to his. Preston and I had barely messed around that night. We’d gone to an afterparty at Colin’s house, and Preston had so much to drink, he couldn’t keep it up later when I attempted to go down on him. So, no. Preston hadn’t fucked me in my prom dress.
“I would have.” Greg’s voice oozed. “I’d have bent you over a table, pulled up that skirt, and fucked you so hard, your legs would shake.” His smile was sinister. “Just like they are right now, Cassidy.”
Even muffled under his palm, my cry was loud and full of pleasure. I clenched around him, and he exhaled loudly, thick with enjoyment. I put one hand over his on my mouth, trying to silence myself, and wrapped the other hand around his wrist.
Each pump of his body into mine primed me for detonation, and as I closed in on my explosion, Greg must have sensed it. He pulled out abruptly, stepping away from the edge of the bed.
“Where—” I started, wanting to ask him where he was going, but he pointed to the center of the bed.
“On your hands and knees.” He said it lightly, but it was a demand full of weight and urgency, and I found myself scrambling on top of the duvet. He climbed up behind me, steering my hips and positioning me how he wanted us to be.
The waiting for him to fill me again lasted a decade, and I sighed with relief when he was there, nudging his way between my legs. I swallowed thickly as he pushed all the way in. Holy hell, he felt even bigger this way. I stared down at my hands splayed open on the comforter and let him rock his hips into me.
Greg pushed my hair out of his way, so his hands could trace up and down my spine. I arched like a cat as he stroked me, never wanting this to stop. I could listen to his soft sighs of pleasure and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin forever.
But then his strong hand was on my shoulder, pulling me up off my hands, and my eyes went wide. A large mirror hung over the dresser on the other side of the room, and in it, I could see Greg’s hands as they slid over my naked body. I watched as they caressed over my breasts, down the curve of my narrow waist, and onto the flare of my hips.
Over my shoulder, he watched us in the mirror too. I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t look away.
His thrusts were rigorous, pounding into my body, and when I threatened to fall, I latched a hand on the post to steady myself. It only made us look more erotic. My small, pink nipples jutted up and out, and at the crevice of my thighs, we could see the movement of his cock disappearing inside me.
I was slick between my legs, and faint sweat clung to my skin. It was the same for him. It beaded at his forehead and glossed his face. We looked so good together. I tightened my hold on the smooth post of dark wood, bracing myself so hard, my muscles strained.
My pulse thundered as he slipped one hand down, his fingertips searching my slit. He strummed there, making me gasp.
“Shit,” I cried out, arching back so my head rested on his collarbone. Even with my head tipped back, I watched the mirror through my half-lidded eyes. How could I not? His powerful body behind mine, fucking me into oblivion, was a sight to behold. I’d never forget it as long as I lived.
“I love it,” he murmured. “Seeing this and feeling you wrapped around me. Whatever happens, you were worth it.”
NINE
I closed my eyes as unexpected tears sprang into them. How cruel was the world to us, to give Greg and me this perfect experience, and know we couldn’t have it ever again? I almost wished we hadn’t acted on our desires. Now I’d always know what I was missing.
“I’m close,” he said as a warning. “Are you close?”
Because my pleasure mattered to him, and my heart twisted further. I didn’t want to reach the finish because then this would be over, but . . . “Yeah.”
He double-downed his effort, determined to get me there. His warm lips sucked on my neck as his fingers moved furiously over my clit, and his pounding thrusts seemed to go deeper.
“Oh,” I cried. It rolled from me in unstoppable waves. “Oh, oh, oh!”
“Yes.” His body hardened like stone, and then we both broke apart, him only seconds behind me. Ecstasy ripped a hole in my belly and poured hot pleasure in its place. I jerked and contracted with each shock, and inside I felt the rhythmic pulses of his climax.
Bliss sped through my veins, temporarily sweeping away judgement, leaving only us in this moment together. He hung onto me as I clung to the bedpost, both of our knees dug into the bed and our bodies shaking.
It seemed like as long as we remained like this, gravity couldn’t touch us, and we lingered even as the orgasms faded to nothing. I turned my head toward his, and he slanted his lips over mine, kissing me with so much tenderness and care, it would have made me tremble if I wasn’t already.
Eventually, we parted. I fell into a heap on the bed, endured another long, slow kiss from this impossibly beautiful man who could never be mine. He left me only to remove the condom, then returned to the bed, wrapping his arm around me like it was the most natural thing.
“This is weird, right?” I whispered. Cuddling. But I needed it.
“If it is, I don’t care.” He used a fingertip to trace my hairline, pushing a lock of hair back from my flushed face, giving me a serious look. “It’s what I want to do.”
God, he made me melt. I curled in closer, pressing my sweat-damp skin against his. When I was burrowed in his arms, one leg hooked over his, his fingers swept absentmindedly up and down my back, tracing faint patterns.
“Stay,” he said.
A sliver of panic ran through me. “Overnight?” Because there was no way in a million years I could, no matter how much the idea excited me.
He skewed his face, maybe realizing how impractical the request was. “Just for a little while.”
I took no convincing. I was tired, and warm, and happy right where I was. I let out a deep breath. “Yes.”
His smile was wide and bright.
I blinked my blurry eyes and shifted before I realized where I was. Greg’s arm was cast over my waist, holding me, even when we’d both fallen asleep. I couldn’t tell what time it was. The sun was still up, at least enough to generate some light, but the room was dark and cave-like.
When I wiggled out from under his arm, Greg stirred, but didn’t wake. He rolled onto his back and sighed, oblivious. I sat up and stared at the naked man, crossing my arms over my chest to hold in my warmth. I needed clothes.
More importantly, I needed to get out of this bed, out of this house, and down the street to my car. The dark clouds from before had moved in, and although it wasn’t raining yet, it was going to start any minute. Thunder boomed and shook the pane of glass in the balcony door, like the universe was reminding me how to escape.
Except, I didn’t want to.
It was impossible, but I forced myself to slip off the bed and slowly tug on my clothes, wondering the whole time what I was going to do. Should I wake him up? I glanced at the black clouds outside and back to the man on the bed. I didn’t have time to enjoy how good he looked like that. He seemed younger when he slept, and he looked more handsome.
I was on borrowed time with the storm. I had to go.
Because not only would saying goodbye take too much time, I’d do anything to avoid it. I didn’t want him to see me as I walked away and was left gutted. This afternoon might have been wrong, but it wasn’t a mistake, and if he woke up with regret in his eyes, I couldn’t bear to see it. It was better to slip away and not ruin what we had.
The door was silent as I pulled it open, and I watched through the glass as I closed it carefully behind me, making sure Greg didn’t hear. I rationalized my escape as I hurried down the staircase. He worked crazy hours at the hospital. Didn’t he deserve to get some sleep?
A fat raindrop landed on the part in my hair and rolled forward down my face as I scrambled along the wooded lawn. I wiped it away with a shaky hand. By the time my flip-flops hit the sidewalk, it was pouring. Cold sheets of
rain soaked my tank top, my hair, and squished between my bare toes.
I was drenched when I crawled into the driver’s seat of my car and shoved the keys in the ignition. Rain drilled against the windows, loud and angry. The car interior was muggy and confining, trapping me inside, where I couldn’t run from my thoughts any longer.
Oh, my God.
What the hell had I just done?
TEN
My best friend Lilith was five years older than I was. She had sleek, iron-straight hair the color of caramel that hung halfway down her back, and she stood almost six feet tall when she was in heels, which she wore every chance she got. She had to be the only woman on earth who slipped into stilettos after a grueling day of work.
She couldn’t wear them at the animal hospital. Sometimes she had to chase an escaped bunny around the exam room or needed good footing when an overly excited mastiff wanted to jump up and say hello. Her four-inch heels weren’t going to cut it against a dog that weighed more than she did.
I’d become friends with the veterinary assistant on the first day of my summer internship when we’d walked into an exam room together, and the pet owner demanded we look at her ‘duck.’
“He refuses to swim,” the woman whined.
Bless Lilith’s heart—she gently let the owner know her chicken, not duck, was in excellent health, and Lilith said it in a way to minimize the woman’s total embarrassment. It wasn’t until the owner was gone that we died with laughter.
“It’s like she’d never seen a cock before,” Lilith teased.
She always turned the conversation sexual, and I sort of loved that about her. It meant I could talk to her about sex stuff. She’d been on me all summer about the Preston situation, telling me every day to dump his selfish ass.
“I did it,” I said this morning, using a flat mop to clean the exam room floor. “I called him, and we talked . . . I guess. He definitely got the message that we’re over.”
My friend grinned her approval. “Finally. How’d he take it?”
“He acted like it wasn’t a big deal.” I shrugged. “Like he thinks I’m going to come crawling back to him within a week.”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes as she flipped the sign on the door to let the rest of the staff know the room was clean and ready for use. “I can’t wait for you to hook up with someone with actual dick game.”
My hesitation was short, but just a fraction too long, and more than enough time for my new friend to catch on. Her pretty blue eyes widened.
“Cassidy,” she accused.
I feigned innocence. “What?”
She hustled me across the hall and behind the stacks of prescription dog food, so we were out of earshot of anyone in the waiting area. Her voice fell to an urgent but excited hush. “Already?” Her smile was evil . . . and a little proud. “Who was he? Was it good? Shit, tell me everything.”
It wasn’t a trust issue that made me cautious. I knew Lilith would keep my secret. We’d had plenty of in-depth conversations after the animal hospital closed for the day, talking about boys and sex while we’d cleaned cages and done laundry. But this secret was huge, and worse—Lilith knew Dr. Lowe. After college, she’d moved into the converted pool house behind her parents’ home, which was in the same wealthy neighborhood, just up the street from the Lowes.
“I’m waiting,” she said playfully, although sort of serious.
I needed to tell someone. The amazing afternoon spent with Greg had planted feelings inside me that grew too big to contain. My voice dipped low, and she leaned over to hear me. “It was Preston’s dad.”
There was no reaction from her, other than a set of slow blinks, like she couldn’t interpret the information.
“Did you just say what I think you did?” she whispered. “Dr. Lowe?”
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
An enormous, incredulous smile dawned on her face. “Holy Mother of God. How? Where? I have all the questions.”
Too bad I didn’t have good answers. I was still fuzzy on how it had happened. In fact, everything was fuzzy and complicated after Greg and I kissed the first time. “Uh,” I said, searching for something to say. “I don’t know. I gave him a hug goodbye, and it just turned into . . . more.”
“Where was Preston?”
My face heated with shame. “That time? He’d left for work.”
“What?” Her word was so sharp, surely someone in the waiting area heard her. She moved in until I was trapped in the corner. “How many times have you slept with him?”
“No, we didn’t have sex the first time.” It had been tame enough to be considered PG-13, although nothing about it felt tame. “Yesterday, Preston was still downstairs, playing video games with his friends, when Greg and I—”
“Greg,” she repeated. “Holy fucking shit, Cassidy.” She gazed at me in awe, as if I were a brand-new person, and then she grinned like a fool. “How was it?”
“It?” I played dumb.
She shot me a pointed look. “The sex.”
Now my face burned a thousand degrees. “It was . . .” Unbelievable. Magnificent. “Um, great.”
She gave a half-laugh, and her expression said she didn’t believe me. “Just great?”
I scowled. “It was fucking amazing, okay? But . . . I can’t believe I did that.”
“Dumped your boyfriend and banged his dad right after? Yeah, me neither.” Her amusement seemed to have no limits. “You’re a bad girl, Cassidy. I never would have guessed.”
ELEVEN
After I’d ransacked my room, the laundry, and my car, I sat on the edge of my bed and resigned myself to the fact my favorite hoodie, the Vanderbilt one I’d bought in the university store and had worn almost every night the first year of school, was gone. How the hell had I lost it?
My attention was normally great, but it’d been slipping since the afternoon I’d gone over to Preston’s house to end things and wound up kissing his father. The last two days had been much worse. Since sleeping with Greg, he was all I could think about. Lilith wasn’t helping. She’d insisted we get dinner together after work, mostly so I could tell her every detail.
Describing the memory to her made it more intense, but she’d been great about not judging me. A big part of that was probably her dislike for Preston.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn the hoodie. I hadn’t been cold in weeks—all I needed to do was think about Greg, and problem solved. Heat flushed along my body, running down my center, leading straight between my legs—
Oh, no.
I groaned as I realized where my favorite sweatshirt was. I’d spilled a glass of water on my arm last time I’d worn it, and hung the black and gold hoodie up to dry on a hook on the back of the bathroom door.
Not my bathroom, but Preston’s.
I could cut my losses, or reach out to my ex, but neither of those options excited me as much as the one that popped into my mind. I scooped up my phone, scrolled through my contacts to Dr. Lowe, and tapped out the message before I had time to think about what a terrible idea it was.
Cassidy: Hey, it’s Cassidy. Sorry to bother you, but I left my hoodie hanging on the door of Preston’s bathroom. Can I come by to get it?
Cassidy: Maybe some time when he’s not there?
I threw the phone down like it was the devil. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was similar to the one I got when I’d called Preston for the first time, back when we were in high school, only this feeling now was more intense. My gut twisted in a knot. My request was dangerous, and it was hard to breathe while I waited for a response.
Time ticked by, one agonizing second after another.
Was he in surgery? Had he read the text and wasn’t sure how to respond? Or was he upset I’d left without saying goodbye? I put my fingertips over my lips and frowned. I shouldn’t have texted him.
I nearly leapt out of my skin when the phone chimed.
Dr. Lowe: He’s at work if you want to swing by now.
I read the text a million times, searching and hoping for hidden meaning, but it wasn’t there. ‘Swing by’ implied quick—he wasn’t asking me to stay. And why would he? I’d run away last time like a coward.
At least he didn’t say he’d leave the door unlocked for me, because that would have been a clear sign he didn’t want to see me.
I was such a jittery mess on the drive over, I didn’t realize I hadn’t turned on the radio until I entered Greg’s subdivision. I’d driven most of the way there in silence, running different scenarios in my head of what was going to happen when I got to his house.
It was dusk when I parked in the driveway, and I followed the brick path up the front step, staring at the glowing button of the doorbell. It felt like the damn thing was mocking me. If I rang it, seeing Greg face to face would be unavoidable.
Wasn’t that what I wanted?
What I craved?
I stabbed the button with a finger and listened to the dull chime ring out inside the house. The decorative glass insert of the front door was made of embossed panels, so I could only see a figure approach, but not his face.
The lock slid with a click, and the door swung open.
Greg wore jeans, a blue t-shirt that clung to his perfect form, and an unreadable expression. My heart tripped over itself at the sight of him. Memories of his hands on me, his body sliding inside mine, made my knees weak.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Hey.” He pulled the door open wider and stepped back, ushering me in. I took two hesitant steps inside, and before I could say anything, he swung the door shut and moved toward the kitchen, abandoning me. “I brought your sweatshirt up for you. It’s on the counter.”
Oh.
I slinked after him, my head hung in shame. Sure enough, my hoodie sat folded neatly on the kitchen island, right in the same spot he’d leaned me over two days ago and put his hand down my shorts. I could still feel his fingers inside my panties, working to make me come.
