by West, Harper
I leaned back with a sigh. Admitting that Kevin was getting under my skin felt like admitting to a failure, which I hated, but I was tired of having it in my head and not being able to get it out.
"He's driving me nuts, to be honest," I grumbled.
Sam came all the way into my office and closed the door. "What is it about him that you don't like so much?" she wanted to know. "Is it the bad boy image or something? Maybe he reminds you of someone?"
I snorted. "He reminds me of himself. I knew him. In college. We dated." Making those words come out of my mouth was harder than I'd expected. I hadn't talked to anyone about being dumped by Kevin since it had happened. Most of the time I tried to forget about it, but now that he was going to be a fixture in my life, at least until I fixed his fuck-up, it wasn't going to be so easy not to think about it.
Sam was staring at me, eyes wide. "You dated Kevin Porter?"
I shrugged a shoulder. "That was before he was important. He was just playing college sports and dreaming big dreams." In spite of myself, a wistful little smile spread over my face. "He was different then. Or I thought he was."
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"He dumped me. Simple as that."
"There has to be more to it than that."
I shook my head. "I don't know. We were happy, or I thought we were. It was getting close to graduation, and I knew he had big dreams. I knew he wanted to go pro. I knew his career meant a lot to him, but he knew that about me, too. And I had been planning so much for how we could make it work. I had charts and lists and flight schedules for how it could all work out so we could have what we wanted and stay together. And then three days before graduation he called me to his apartment and told me it was over."
I shrugged again. At the time, I'd been unbelievably hurt. He'd laid it all out, how we just wouldn't have time for each other and he needed to focus on making it big. All the time I'd been spending trying to come up with ways to make it work, he'd been coming up with reasons it wouldn't.
In the end, I didn't even tell him about my plans. What would have been the point? He'd made his thoughts on the matter perfectly clear, and it was obvious he didn't see even a chance that things could work out. He wasn't even willing to consider it.
He'd made me feel like a burden. Like someone who was standing in the way of the things he wanted. So I'd just left after that, and we hadn't seen each other again.
I told Sam the short version of it, leaving out the hurt feelings and the fact that I'd spent the run up to graduation sobbing my eyes out over my broken heart.
Looking back at that made me feel stupid, and I didn't want to bring it up.
"I'm so sorry, Caro," Sam was saying, and the soft look on her face echoed her words. "You deserved better than that."
"It's fine, Sam. I was twenty-one and I thought I was...in love, I guess. But everyone has a story like that, right? It's not important."
"But you still don't like him for what he did, so it obviously still bothers you."
"It doesn't," I said quickly. "He bothers me. He's rude and presumptuous, and he wouldn't be in as deep a problem as he is if he knew how to handle himself with anything even approaching grace."
There was a little smile playing around Sam's mouth, and I narrowed my eyes at her. "Don't look at me like that," I said. "I'm serious. He's his own worst enemy here, and he doesn't even seem to care. I don't have any interest in anything other than getting this done, getting my promotion, and washing my hands of him and his drama forever."
"Sure," she said, nodding. "I can understand that. I mean, having to work close with an ex sounds terrible, really. But then, all of my exes are a different breed of horrible."
"He's horrible, too," I muttered.
"I can tell," she replied. "But you know what? He needs you, not the other way around. Sure, doing this well is going to fast track you to something you should have already had, but without you, his whole career could be in danger. So you have the upper hand. You won."
I let her words linger in my head as I got back to work, wishing her a good night.
I won. In the end, I wasn't so sure. Kevin needed my help, but that was only because he had so much to lose. He had money and fame and the attention of the entire country, and even some countries overseas if the news was to be believed.
He had his dreams, all the things he'd wanted for himself when we were younger, and I had... What did I have?
A job that I enjoyed and was good at. A nice apartment in the city. Friends who cared about me.
And that was pretty much the end of the list. I knew I could do more with my work, and one day I would get the chance to, but sitting there in my office as it got later and later, I couldn't help but feel like something was missing.
And that pissed me off even more. Because nothing was missing, aside from a promotion and more responsibility. I had all the things I'd been working for, and it should have taken more than just a few days dealing with Kevin for me to start getting wistful for the way things were back then.
Because I knew from experience that those things didn't last.
With a frustrated sigh, I closed out of my programs and shut down my computer, shoving my laptop into my bag and gathering my things.
It was late, and I was tired. All I wanted was to go home, shower, and then dump myself into bed so I could get up and do it all over again in the morning.
* * *
I loved living alone most of the time, and I knew I was lucky to be able to afford a nice place in the city on my own, but there was something about coming home to a dark, empty apartment at eleven on a weekday that was just...depressing.
That and the irritation that still coiled around me just made my mood worse as I stripped off my work clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor of my bedroom for the moment.
I got in the shower, hoping the hot water would work out some of the tension in my neck and shoulders, but it seemed to just be making it worse.
I inhaled deeply, letting the lavender scented steam wash over me, and then cleaned myself up, washing my hair and my body quickly.
I got out and dried off, rubbing the towel through my hair before putting it back on the rack and walking naked back to my room.
The clothes on the floor were just going to bother me, so I picked those up and put them in the hamper to deal with another day, and then sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh.
I was too in my head. It happened sometimes when I worked late. Whatever I'd been chipping away at all day got a hold on me, and it was hard to let it go so I could sleep.
It didn't help that I had to think about Kevin all the time for my job, so it made sense that he was on my mind. It didn't mean anything other than I worked too hard, and I already knew that.
I just needed something that would take my mind off of it and let me relax enough to go to sleep.
My eyes lit on my bedside table, and I pulled the drawer out. There, nestled between my headache medicine and reading glasses was my vibrator and dildo, and I bit my lip for a second before shrugging.
Whatever. I deserved a good orgasm or two before I went to sleep. I'd been working hard.
Grabbing both of them, I laid them beside me on the bed and made myself comfortable, flipping off the light and settling in. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, finally feeling some of that tension bleed from my body.
Slowly, I dragged a hand down my skin, starting up at my collarbones and working down, skimming the pads of my fingertips over the soft, supple skin of my breasts.
They weren't large, just about a handful and a half, but the nipples were hard and peaked before I even got to them, from the cold air and being slightly damp still from the shower. That made it easier for me to grab one of them between two fingers and give it a gentle twist.
The warmth of pleasure spread through me, and I let out a shuddery little breath and then did it again, harder this time.
Already I could feel the tingling begin between my legs, and it
had been a while since I'd taken care of myself like this. Work had been busy, and I hadn't been much in the mood when I had free time.
But my body was responding the way it usually did, heating up and relaxing, the wetness between my legs growing as I took the other nipple between the fingers of my other hand and gave it the same treatment, twisting and pinching at it, tugging at them both until my breath caught.
I pinched harder, wincing at the slight pain, but then moaning softly at the wash of warmth that followed.
One hand stayed at my chest while the other continued downward, glancing over my stomach and then down further to the neatly trimmed patch of hair between my legs.
I was already so slick and hot there, and I had barely touched my fingers to my folds before I was spreading my legs for myself, eager for more.
It was easy to close my eyes and imagine I had a partner for this, however long it had been since that was the case. I knew how I liked to be touched, so I could just plug anyone into the position of doing the touching.
I imagined rough fingers. Someone who did more physical things than I did and had a cause to have hands that showed it. There was something appealing about that.
I circled my clit with my index finger and imagined the man kneeling between my legs, eyes intent as he touched me, murmuring in warm tones that I was so wet already and he'd barely even started.
And he wasn't wrong, my imaginary sex partner. I was already soaked, and I knew the dildo would slide in easily enough once I was ready for it.
Since it was getting even later, I didn't draw it out. I slipped two fingers into my hot, wet hole and gasped, shuddering at the pleasure of having something inside me.
I imagined they were those same rough fingers as I pumped the digits into myself, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of it.
It felt so good, and I arched my back, still pinching and tugging at my nipple.
It wouldn't be hard to come like that, but that wasn't what I wanted. It wouldn't be enough.
Without opening my eyes, I fumbled for the dildo and brought it under the covers with me. I rubbed it against my slick entrance, spreading the sticky wetness around, coating it in my own lubrication.
It was a big toy. Not obscenely large or anything, but it mimicked the girth and length of an above average sized cock. I liked it like that. If I was going to be full, I wanted to be full. I wanted to be able to feel the stretch, to know I was stuffed completely, impaled on that cock with nothing to do but take it.
I was wet enough that it wasn't hard to press the first couple of inches into myself, biting down on my bottom lip to keep the noises from spilling out, but it felt so fucking good.
My lips parted, and I was breathing hard by the time I had worked the whole thing in, and I took a little break, letting my body adjust to it.
My hips rolled in little circles, trying to get more friction, more depth, more anything, because it wasn't enough. Not yet.
"Please," I gasped out, even though there was no one there to beg, and I spread my legs even wider, feet going flat on the bed, so I could bend my knees and have a better angle.
My imaginary partner would have laughed and teased me about being over eager. "Never knew you were such a slut," the warm voice would murmur, and all at once I realized whose voice I was imagining.
It was Kevin. We'd had some very good sex when the two of us were together. He'd always known how to push my buttons in the best possible way, to get me from being tense and worked up to screaming for him in pleasure over the course of an afternoon. Or night. Or morning.
His cock was about the size of the dildo currently buried inside of me, maybe a bit bigger, even, and I wanted to be disgusted with myself for thinking of him, but I couldn't bring myself to feel anything other than horny.
So I went with it. I'd come that far already, after all. I grabbed the vibrating wand and pressed the bulb end to my clit, flicking it onto the lowest setting and letting out a shuddering breath as it flared to life, sending jolting arcs of pleasure up through me.
My walls clenched around the dildo, and I used my free hand to grab the base of it and start working it slowly out of me, dragging against the sensitive flesh of my pussy, setting a slow pace as I fucked myself with it.
I kept my eyes closed, and when I imagined a partner again, it was still Kevin. I pictured him above me, braced on his hands, the muscles in his arms very apparent as he held himself up, working his slender hips to drive his cock into me.
And then the slow pace wasn't enough anymore. I started pumping that dildo in faster and harder, making sure I felt each thrust, the way I knew Kevin would. Nothing had brought him more pleasure than watching me fall apart as he fucked into me with wild abandon, making me lose myself for him.
Even under my own hands, it felt good to have something thick and hard pounding into me, especially while the vibrator hummed against my clit, taking the pleasure higher and sending those shocks through me again and again.
I was panting softly, my breath coming out in short, staccato puffs, and every other sound was a little pleading whine as my body burned hotter and hotter.
I choked out a moan and practically slammed the dildo inside of me, gasping out a sound that might have been a name, might have just been an exhalation of pleasure. I wasn't going to poke at it too deeply either way.
I flipped the speed of the vibrator up a notch and nearly went rigid as the heat flared through me. I wasn't going to last much longer, not so full and with that delicious buzzing against my clit. All I could do was bite down on my lip and ride it out, hips thrusting up, legs shaking as wave after wave of heat and pleasure washed over me.
I could feel the orgasm building, that low tightness in my gut that was spreading, waiting to catch on something and send me spinning headfirst into it.
My hips moved faster, my hand speeding up to match, and with one final push of that dildo into me, I came undone, biting my lip harder to keep from making too much noise as I came.
My body shook and my legs flared wider, and I humped the dildo and the vibrator as I worked myself through it, ending up in a slumped heap, breathing hard.
Gently I eased the dildo from my soaking wet pussy and then turned the vibrator off, leaving both toys on top of my bedside table to clean in the morning.
I laid there for a few long minutes, catching my breath and coming down, and the slow, sleepy feeling of a good orgasm settled over me.
I was pointedly ignoring the fact that I had definitely been thinking about Kevin as I fell apart because there was no use in opening that can of worms at the moment.
So what? He was the last person I'd had really amazing sex with maybe. Which--considering that had been six years ago--was pretty fucking sad.
But I wasn't poking at it. I wasn't reading into it. I'd seen him lately, and he was good looking, that was all. There was nothing else to it.
Either way, I was too tired to get into an existential crisis on the matter, so I just snuggled deeper under the covers and let myself fall asleep.
Chapter 6
Caro
In the morning, I was up at the usual time, and in my car to head to work when my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. That wasn't unheard of, so I answered it over the car's bluetooth.
"Carolyn James," I said.
There was a beat of silence and then a laugh. "It's weird to hear you say your full name like that," Kevin's voice said, echoing around my car.
For just a second, just a tiny second, there was a flash of heat through me as I thought about coming to the sound of his voice, and then I shook myself. Back to business.
"Can I help you?" I asked, and if I sounded more frosty than usual, I didn't think I could be blamed.
"Yeah, actually. Kathleen sent me a list of the things you want me to do, and I have some notes."
"Notes," I replied. "I'm not taking feedback on the plan. If you want to keep--"
"I know, I know," he cut in. "If i want to keep my career and li
fe of excess then I'll do what you say. I've heard the lecture from you and Kath, thanks. But I do want to discuss some of this, so can you swing by for a quick meeting?"
I checked the time. I was due into the office, but I would just be working on Kevin's stuff anyway, so I short detour wouldn't be the end of the world. Maybe I would grab breakfast after whatever it was he wanted from me.
"Fine," I said. "Where are you?"
He gave me an address, and I plugged it into my car's gps while I sat at a red light. Just a few minutes out of the way.
"I'll be there in about ten," I said.
"Great. Looking forward to it."
And he ended the call before I could.
There was a little voice in the back of my head that I usually liked to refer to as my 'bullshit sense', and it was telling me to be on my guard, but I rationalized that I was always on my guard, so it would be fine.
Of course, when I got to the address, it was a gym. One of those fancy ones that looked more like an office building from the outside, and needed a keycard or an invitation to get in.
All I had to do was say my name at the door, though, and the security person let me in. "Mr. Porter is on the treadmill, I believe," he said, gesturing me forward.
Everything about the place was swanky and expensive, and I walked down the hall, heels clacking on the polished floor until I found a glass door that looked into a room full of top of the line treadmills, exercise bikes, and ellipticals.
Most people just went running in Central Park or around their neighborhoods, but of course that wasn't good enough for a major league star like Kevin Porter.
I rolled my eyes and let myself in.
Kevin was on the farthest treadmill away, of course, running like he couldn't break a sweat if he tried. He had good form, back straight, head up, arms pumping as his legs moved.
He also wasn't wearing a shirt.
Immediately my eyes moved over the hard planes of his chest and the muscles of his arms. He was no body builder, but he was in good shape, and it was clear that even during the off season, he kept himself in routine, working out and taking care of his health.
