Retreat

by Dykes, Nicole

  “Maybe I’ll call Chase and see if he wants to hang.”

  “What? You just got here.”

  She shrugs again. “I made an appearance.” She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her dress and walks toward the pool shed, away from the rest of the party.

  Uncontrollably, my legs follow her, and I catch up to her on the opposite side while she searches through her contacts.

  I take the phone from her, not really knowing what I’m doing.

  “What the hell Ty, give me back my phone.”

  “So you can make a fucking booty call? No fucking way.”

  I expect her to reach for her phone or walk away, but she doesn’t. Her hands rest against my chest as her head tilts upward, her voice low and seductive, “You want me to stay here? Then how about you be a man and fuck me.”

  Our bodies are blocked by the structure, but I know this is fucking stupid. We’re standing too close. I can smell her light perfume. Her hands still rest against my chest, and my resolve is weakening.

  You can’t hurt her. She deserves better.

  “A man doesn’t hurt women.”

  She’s standing tall and wearing heels but still only comes up to my chin. I make an irreparable mistake and tip my head down, looking directly into her eyes. “I don’t mind a little pain.”

  My throat bobs with apprehension. Her hands feel so fucking good pressed against my chest. “Morgan . . . I can’t offer anything but sex.”

  Her lips move closer to mine, and I know I should pull back, but I don’t. There are so many fucking things I should do right now. “That’s what I want.” Her teeth bite my bottom lip, pulling on it gently before she releases it and looks into my eyes. “Sex. Release. Pleasure.”

  “Fuck.” I groan into her mouth as ours meet. I can’t fucking resist her but knowing damn well I should.

  Our bodies press together as her hand moves to my hair, grasping and pulling as mine move from her soft, blond locks down to her waist, tugging her closer to me. I feel her small body molded to mine as I get lost in an intense kiss that is everything she just alluded to.

  This is sex, release, and pleasure, all wrapped up in a fucking kiss.

  She moans softly into my mouth as her back presses against the outside of the shed, and my hand smooths over her bare thigh as she lifts it to wrap around me, pulling my hardened, aching cock between her legs, begging me to fuck her.

  Damning us both if we go any further.

  I groan loudly as I raise one hand, resting it over my eyes, trying to block the sunlight. My head is swimming as I rest on something extremely soft beneath me.

  “Good morning, pretty girl. You want some coffee?”

  Oh. No.

  I drop my hand, opening my eyes and see a naked torso next to me, one that has an impressive tattoo of a racecar surrounded by a speedometer across the ribcage. His right arm has swirled ink all the way down to his hand.

  What did you do now, Morgan?

  My head lifts, looking further up, and I see Chase’s grin.

  “Fuck.”

  “Definitely not how I’m used to being greeted in the morning.”

  “Do you usually let women stay the entire night?”

  His face is beautiful as he laughs, shrugging his strong shoulders. “Of course. I fucking love morning sex.”

  He wags his eyebrows at me, and I feel nauseous, but I’m sure that’s mostly the hangover.

  I turn my head away again, using my arm to cover my eyes. “How did I get here?”

  Last thing I remember is being at Chris’s birthday party and drinking tequila.

  Oh my god.

  I sit up way too abruptly and know instantly that was a mistake.

  “Woah, easy killer.” I feel Chase’s body next to mine as he wraps an arm around me, letting me lean into him.

  “I kissed Ty.”

  He clears his throat, and I can feel him nodding next to me. “Yeah, you mentioned that when you showed up at my hotel in a cab.”

  Shit, that’s right. He’s in town for the meeting we had yesterday with a sponsor.

  I look down and see I still have my dress on. “How did I end up here?”

  I was with Ty. I remember kissing him, being pressed between his hard body and the pool shed, his hands on me, mine exploring his body.

  “You called me pretty upset from down in the lobby. I came down and got ya.”

  My memories flood my senses, and my heart aches as I use one hand to clutch my chest. My body was on fire, pressed against Ty, feeling his need for me. I was drowning in his kiss, letting it push away every insecurity I had until his hands held my shoulders, pulling me backward.

  His eyes were so full of conflict and confusion as he told me we couldn’t go any further. I ran out of there, grabbing the bottle of tequila and called a cab.

  I look into Chase’s brown eyes and notice the gold specs in them. “Did we have sex?”

  “Nah.” His smirk is actually comforting, which is odd. “You were way too fucking drunk, barely making sense. I’m a prick but not that much of a prick.”

  I feel some relief, but I have to ask. “Did I offer?”

  He laughs at that, his arm squeezing my shoulder. “Little bit.”

  “Fuck. Me.”

  He chuckles again. “Yeah, pretty much just like that, but you added a sexy little purr too.”

  I turn to look at him, horrified because he is way too amused by all of this. “I will kill you.”

  He releases me, stretching his arms high in the air, letting his muscles pull tight. “Bring it on, pretty girl.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  He laughs. His voice is deep, and his southern accent is thick. “Now, why would I do that?” His fingers tangle in the ends of my hair. “You are definitely pretty.”

  “Why don’t you just go one step further and say ‘purdy,’ you country bumpkin?”

  He chuckles at that, his face lit with laughter, and I can’t help but laugh along, even if my head is aching. “You thought my accent was, and I quote, ‘sexy as all fucking hell’ last night when you were trying to get my pants off.”

  I might actually burst into flames right here. I could punch myself for drinking so much last night.

  “Well, it’s less appealing this morning when I’m trying not to puke all over the hotel sheets.”

  “Can I get you anything?” He leans back against the wall, one arm tucked behind his head. A slow smile spreads across his face. “And my cock is definitely on the menu, now that you’re sober.”

  There’s water next to the bed along with ibuprofen. I take them instead of taking Chase up on his offer. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

  He nods. “Had room service bring one up this morning. It’s on the sink.”

  I nod, moving my tired body off the bed and going into the fancy bathroom to brush my teeth and look into the mirror at my tired, godawful reflection.

  I brush my teeth and rinse my mouth, looking at the black bags under my eyes and then feel arms surrounding my waist and hard body behind me. Chase’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  I scoff, looking at my disheveled hair and smeared makeup. “You’re just a horny fucker.”

  He spins my body to face him, his eyes full of hunger. “You’re right.” His hands cup my face. “But so am I. You’re beautiful.”

  My hands smooth over the ridges of his stomach. “I hate that you are too.”

  His ab muscles flex with laughter. “Give in, Morgan. You can’t tell me you don’t want to. And seriously, who the fuck cares? We’re both single adults.”

  “I work for you.”

  I feel his fingers find the zipper of my dress, slowly sliding it down my back. “You’re not on the clock right now.”

  I don’t even have it in me to pretend I don’t want him. He’s gorgeous and available, at least his dick is.

  I slip my arms out of the dress, letting it fall down to the ground as his hands grab m
y hips, lifting me onto the bathroom counter. His mouth hovers over my neck, his teeth scraping along my flesh as my eyes close.

  All I wanted was for Ty to see me. I would have pathetically taken what I could get, but he’s not an option.

  My hand grips Chase’s hair, pulling his mouth to mine as our lips mash together hungrily, his hands still holding my hips as he grinds against me from his position between my legs.

  But Chase is.

  I wake up in my bed, hungover and pissed-off.

  God, I wanted her. My body wanted her so fucking bad. It was like I couldn’t breathe. Or I didn’t want to. I just wanted to kiss her and never fucking stop.

  But I had to.

  Jay was in the pool. We were behind the pool shed. I could hear his laughter in the background.

  Talk about betrayal.

  My dick is awake, and my balls are fucking blue and angry. But I couldn’t do it.

  Could I?

  Christ.

  I drag my hands over my face, covering it as I scream into the vacant room.

  I’m losing my fucking mind.

  Apparently, I can’t fuck anyone. Not the random chick at the bar. Definitely not Morgan. So now, I’m a fucking monk. This is my life.

  Player to Monk. That’ll be the name of my biography.

  I close my eyes, still covered by my hands, and I see her.

  Morgan in that tiny sundress with pink high heels, her blond hair down and tousled by the wind.

  I can still feel her hands all over me and her lips on mine.

  I drop my hands, letting my eyes snap open as I sit up abruptly. This is definitely not going to help my cock problem, and I’m already late for work.

  I need to see Morgan and tell her I’m so fucking sorry for leading her on again.

  I continue to fuck everything up with her, but I can’t let too much time go by this time. I’m praying she doesn’t pull away from me again. I can’t live without her in my life.

  And Jay definitely owes me a solid punch to the face, but I can’t tell him.

  I’m still a fucking coward.

  I climb out of bed, groaning again and strip as I head into my bathroom, still fucking hard.

  I open the glass shower door and walk inside, turning the water on, letting it run over my face and down my body.

  I wanted her so fucking bad.

  My right hand rests against the tile of the shower, my dick impossibly hard. I’m so fucking sick of my hand I could scream again, but fuck it.

  I can’t go to work with a fucking hard-on, and it’s not going away on its own. I slather body wash over my body, smoothing over my stomach and sliding down to my aching cock, slowly moving over the length, closing my eyes and only seeing Morgan.

  Which is so fucking wrong even if I’m totally alone here, but I can’t turn it off.

  I feel her presence, like some sort of really twisted, dirty fucking fantasy. She’s here, watching me.

  I jerk my cock, using the slick body wash as lube, getting me closer and closer to my goal, craving a release as I see her full, pouty, pink lips. I hear her soft moans as my heart rate increases, and I think about how fucking close we came to being caught last night.

  I think about her tongue and how hungry she was. Her kiss felt almost desperate, and it was fucking mutual. I didn’t want to let her go.

  I feel the familiar buildup and know I’m close with my eyes still closed, still living the fantasy. Wondering what she looks like completely naked. Wondering what it feels like to be inside of her. What she tastes like.

  My hand increases speed, my entire body tenses as I race toward the finish.

  I think about her voice and wonder what she sounds like when she comes.

  That thought is all I need to explode with sheer fucking pleasure as stream after stream of cum falls to the floor of the shower, washing away with the water and soap.

  Taking with it the last bit of sanity I had.

  There’s no denying my insane attraction to Morgan. Jay’s little sister is my fucking dream girl. And I’m fucked.

  I grab my keys out of my purse and fumble with the lock. What the hell was I thinking?

  “Morgan.”

  “Shit!” I clutch my chest with panic as I turn around and see Ty standing behind me.

  “Sorry.” He reaches out and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder, his touch making my chest physically ache because I know it’s just a comforting, brotherly touch. And I want so much more.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t leave things like this, Morgan.”

  I don’t want to lose him. Nothing has changed. He’s still my best friend, and I spent months without him, miserable and feeling more alone than I ever have.

  “Ty.” I look up at the porch light outside my front door. Tears fill my eyes as I face him directly. It’s not too late, only around nine, but I’m just now arriving home from Chase’s hotel room after barricading inside with him all day. I’m tired. I’m dirty. I’m broken and fulfilled. “I’m not running.”

  He looks only broken, his brown hair messed up perfectly on top of his head, sexy stubble brushing across his chin and cheeks. He’s so fucking beautiful. “I can’t lose you again.”

  Please don’t tell me how much you regret kissing me. Please.

  “You won’t. It was a drunken kiss.”

  I watch his throat bob with uncertainty and his jaw tighten with tension. “It was more than a kiss.”

  I take a deep breath, trying not to think about what it was. “It’s over. You don’t see me that way.”

  “That’s not entirely true.” He takes a step closer, only a few feet away now. I look at him, hope filling my stupid heart but notice his face change as he looks down at my outfit. “Is that what you had on last night?”

  Damn it.

  I look down at the wrinkled sundress and then slowly lift my head to look at his confused and horrified face.

  I can go one of three ways here. I can deny, deny, deny, which is crazy because he saw me in this dress yesterday. I can act ashamed, but I’m not. I’m truly not. Maybe sleeping with Chase wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do. Maybe it’s something most people would judge me for. But I’m a grown woman, free to make my own decisions. And Chase is hot, sexy, and into me. I needed sex. I wanted it. There’s nothing wrong with a woman getting hers.

  So, I go with option three. I fucking own it.

  I straighten my shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Yes.”

  I watch him swallow, his voice breaking slightly. “Are you just getting home?”

  I don’t want to hurt him, no matter how much he’s hurt me. But I won’t let anyone shame me. “Yes.”

  His eyes lower to my feet and slowly make their way up again. His eyes cold, almost angry. “Were you with Chase?”

  I take a deep breath and give one curt nod. “I was.”

  His teeth are clenched together as he forces his next question. “You went to him?”

  I hear the accusation in his tone and stand tall. “You mean after you rejected me? Yes.” I cross my right arm over my chest, holding onto my left bicep.

  “What the fuck, Morgan? I won’t fuck you around all of our friends and your fucking family, so you run to a guy you fucking work for? A racer, no less.”

  I hear how he detests Chase without even knowing him, and I’m aware that he sees him as exactly like Tate. I’m angered by his tone. I can hear the lecture coming from a mile away, and it’s not happening. “He definitely wanted me.”

  “You mean he wanted what’s between your fucking legs.”

  I take a step closer to him, tipping my head upward, my eyes locking on his. “Yes. He did. He gave me everything I craved.” I slide a hand over his chest. “He had no holdbacks or fear, he kissed me with abandon and fucked me like I was the only one he ever wanted.” He scoffs loudly, only driving me onward. “And by the third orgasm,” he looks physically sick, but I don’t stop, unmitigated anger and resentment pu
shing me forward, “I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to walk again, my legs were shaking so violently.”

  His hands grab my shoulders, but it’s not aggressive. I have absolutely no fear of Ty. He moves my body further away from his, distancing me an arm’s length away as he drops his hands. “Stop.”

  “Why, Ty? We’re just friends, right?”

  “I don’t know what the fuck we are.”

  “I was more than willing to have sex with you. You didn’t want that, so I went to Chase. It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal?” He’s angry, and for the life of me, I can’t understand him. He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want me with anyone else either? “So, that’s it. You want to be fucked so you don’t care who the hell does it? Who the fuck are you?”

  “Who the hell are you? How many times were you fucking horny and went to a bar, finding some sad, lonely girl to fuck you. Literally any chick who was halfway decent looking and single, you’d happily share your body with. But if I do that, I’m what, Ty? A slut?”

  “I didn’t fucking say that.”

  “But you did. Your eyes did.” I point at his eyes to make a point.

  “I don’t think you’re a slut.” He runs his hands through his hair, hair I know is full and soft. “I just . . .”

  “What?”

  “How long have you been fucking him?”

  “This morning was the first time.”

  He nods his head, looking pained. “Is this a new thing?” He immediately raises his hands in front of him, looking defeated. “Don’t answer. You don’t owe me anything.”

  My heart breaks for him. He’s been so lost since everything with Evie.

  “I have no idea. It’s not a relationship, I know that.”

  He nods. “You work for him. That’s kind of complicated.”

  “Not with Chase. The guy is really only in it for sex. That much I can promise. And so am I.”

  “I don’t want you to sell yourself short, Morgan.” His eyes meet mine with so much sadness my knees feel weak looking at his handsome face. “You’re worth everything. You deserve to be treated that way, not just tossed aside when you’re finished.”