by Sky Corgan
Just thinking about losing Caleb is making me want to cry. Thankfully, ice skating isn't as difficult as I thought it would be. After two laps around the rink holding Caleb's hand, I feel confident enough to go on my own. My technique is still choppy, but I don't need him anymore.
I let go of his hand and start skating on my own, thinking of it as an analogy for letting him go. Things are going to be difficult without him for a while. The pain from that will eclipse what I've felt from breaking up with Peter. Or maybe it will just add to it. I don't know anymore. I don't even care right now.
Caleb zips past me, skating with the best of them. He completes three laps for every one lap that I do. I'm so lost in thought that I'm barely paying attention anymore.
A little kid falls in front of me, and I turn my skates to try to avoid a collision. I manage to swoop around her, but the second I do, I lose my balance. I reach out for the railing in a panic, but it's too far away. I'm going to fall.
I hear the ice cutting behind me, and my hands fall on hard flesh. I slam into a body, and the body slams back against the railing. Strong arms wrap around me, keeping me standing. My heart is pounding.
I look up into Caleb's eyes, and my breath comes out in a shudder. He's looking at me so intensely. His pulse is racing against my skin...not for the same reason that mine is, I'm sure. The thought of losing him—that I'll never share a moment like this with him again—my heart breaks.
I want to stay pressed up against him forever. I never want him to let me go. But he has to let me go.
Please, don't let me go.
I can't handle it anymore. The emotions are too much to bare.
A tear rolls down my cheek.
“What's wrong?” Caleb scans my face with concern.
All logic leaves me. If I'm going to lose him anyway, then what does it matter if I piss him off now.
I take his face in my hands. I close my eyes and go up on tiptoe, and I press my lips against his.
It's forbidden and wrong, and he's probably going to push me away. And that's okay. I don't care if he hates me. I don't care if he publicly humiliates me for this. I need this kiss. Just one. Just to taste his lips once.
I expect him to reject me. I expect my heart to be shattered into a million irreparable pieces. But then I feel his grip tighten on me. His mouth moves on top of mine, soft and full of affection.
It's a short kiss. He does pull away first, which hurts. I knew it was coming, though.
“What about Peter?” he asks.
“I broke up with him last week,” I confess, searching his face for signs of anger. He looks more worried than anything else, like he's just committed some sin. “What about your girlfriend?”
“There was never a girlfriend.” He smirks, averting his gaze. “I just made her up because I didn't want to get between you and Peter.”
I let out a short laugh. Now tears are streaming down my face for a different reason. I don't have time to process my feelings, though, because I feel Caleb's fingers fist into the hair at the nape of my neck. His mouth is on top of mine again. He's kissing me with so much passion that I'm drowning in it. My body fills with electricity as my fingertips press against his hard chest. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. Completeness on a level that I never thought possible. I'm amazed and aroused and just...so in love.
The ground shifts beneath us. For a moment, I think it's just my elation from the kiss making me dizzy. But then a familiar panic catches hold of me only seconds before both Caleb and I end up toppling over onto the ice. I'm not sure which one of us lost our balance, but we both go down together...and we're both so stupidly giddy that all we can do is laugh and look at each other and laugh some more.
There has never been a happier moment in all of my life.
I'm gripping onto Caleb's headboard. My body is covered in sweat. No doubt, this is the best fucking workout of my entire life. And by best, I mean the most pleasurable.
The only thing that could have made it better would have been if Caleb had kenneled Max before we started. Almost the second we stepped into his apartment, we were tearing at each other's clothing. We couldn't make it to the bedroom fast enough. Caleb couldn't put on the condom fast enough. He couldn't be inside of me fast enough.
The consequences, an unwelcome threesome with Max trying to lick my face while Caleb is fucking me. He seems pretty relentless about wanting to participate.
“Max, go away!” I push at him as he slobbers all over me while Caleb takes me from behind.
“Do you want me to kennel him?” Caleb asks.
“No. Don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop.” I push my hips back to swallow more of him into me, and he groans.
I tolerate Max, simply because I know this won't be the last time I have Caleb like this. Whether he likes it or not, he's mine now. All mine. I would kill any bitch that tried to come between us.
“Fuck. Your pussy is so sweet,” Caleb curses as he pushes into me for the home stretch.
I close my eyes, and my toes curl as the friction of his hard fucking quickly sends me over the edge. He's nothing like Peter was. Knowing their personalities, you'd think they'd be the opposite in bed—that Peter would be the type that goes hard and Caleb would be more prone to love making. That hasn't been the case.
There was no restraint when Caleb took me. He practically ripped my panties off and barely warmed me up before he forced his way inside. Just the sensation of being handled so roughly made me come the second he penetrated my cunt. And he didn't give me time to recover from it. He was on me in all the best of ways. His mouth. His hands. That amazing cock of his.
Just this one time with him has been ten times better than the half a dozen times I was with Peter. Thinking that this is what I have to look forward to for the foreseeable future is going to turn me into a nymphomaniac. I sure hope he likes sex a lot, because I plan on riding him hard every chance I can get.
“Caleb,” I whimper his name as he grips my hips so hard that it hurts and bangs into me until I feel his body still and his dick pulse. God damn is his name like honey on my lips. Nothing has ever tasted sweeter.
He blows out a shaky breath and kisses my back, pressing into me a final time before pulling out and going to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
I flip onto my back and watch him in all of his naked glory. My pussy is pleasantly sore. I probably shouldn't want to go again, but I just fucking can't get enough of him. As soon as he reloads, I'm putting him on his back and riding him like I'm going to break him. I could do this all night long.
“Are you alright?” he asks as he returns to me, climbing onto the bed to pull me into his arms.
“I've never been better,” I muse, resting my head against his chest.
Caleb strokes my hair and places a sweet kiss on my forehead and then my lips before leaning back against the headboard. I open my eyes and smile contentedly only a second before catching a glimpse of Max in my peripheral vision with the condom hanging out of his mouth.
“Max!” I yell, shooting up off of the bed.
“What's wrong?” Caleb jumps.
“He's got the condom. He must have dug it out of the trash.”
We're both on our feet in an instant.
“Max, drop it!” Caleb yells.
Max's eyes fill with fear, and he runs from us. Caleb tries to catch him, but he dives between his legs and then makes a break for the bedroom, wiggling under the bed.
“Get it from him,” Caleb tells me as he lifts the mattress.
Max is hunkered down under the bed, but I see no condom.
“Gross.” I wrinkle my nose. “I think he swallowed it.”
“Oh, fucks sake.” Caleb drops the mattress. Seconds later, he's on his phone Googling what to do.
“I think he'll be fine. Just watch his stools to make sure it comes out,” I tell him.
“Yeah. That's pretty much what this says.” He holds his phone up to me before shaking his head. “Fucking dog.�
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I laugh, because what else can anyone really do in that situation. “Well, this will be an interesting story to remember.”
“Yeah. Your traumatic first time with me.” Caleb rolls his eyes before grabbing my hand and leading me over to the sofa to sit on his lap.
I rest my head on his shoulder, grinning like a loon.
“Well, shit. Had I known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have told the apartment I was moving out.”
I don't even think before suggesting, “Move in with me.”
“Move in with you?” He quirks his head back to look at me.
“Yeah.” I straighten myself. “I was going to let Becky move in, but I'd rather have you as a roommate. Especially since...” I tap my fingertips together bashfully.
“Do you really think you can stand me?” He smirks. “You know, I have a lot of habits that would probably get on your nerves. Like I make protein shakes with a blender pretty early in the morning. And sometimes I get lazy and accidentally leave bowls out for a day or two. And of course, there's Max. He barks and destroys things.” Caleb nods to the chewed up baseboards around his kitchen island.
“Shush.” I place my finger over his lips. “I don't care. I'll take all of your bad habits and your condom eating dog, because they're all a part of you. And I love you, Caleb Ryan. I love you more than you could ever know.”
“That's funny,” he snorts. “Not long ago, you hated my guts.”
“Shut it. Let's pretend that didn't happen,” I giggle.
But it did happen. And if it hadn't happened, then this never would have happened, so I suppose it wasn't really a bad thing.
“Alright. I'll move in with you,” he tells me, making my heart soar.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
We don't own a house. We don't go to lavish art exhibits. Caleb only takes me to expensive dinners for special occasions, and he lets me order for myself. He doesn't spoil me with gifts and jewelry unless you count my one karat diamond wedding ring.
We both work full-time, though I've switched jobs because having any kind of connection to Peter was awkward for me, especially since he and Caleb have maintained a friendship. Most of our afternoons are spent walking Max, watching TV, playing chess, working out together, or playing the occasional game of tennis.
And I couldn't be happier.
Caleb is my best friend, the man of my dreams, and soon he'll be the father of my child.
We live a simple life, and not once have I regretted my decision to have him move in with me. Even if things aren't perfect sometimes, I have everything I need.
The best thing about being with Caleb, aside from the amazing sex, of course, is that I don't have to hide who I am. I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not just to keep him by my side. Our relationship was honest from day one. He knows my past, my present, and he will be my future.
Being with him, I've been able to accept where I came from. And it's made me realize that, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter where you came from—what your background is. It's where you're going that counts.
About the Author
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Sky Corgan is the USA Today bestselling author of Bully. She lives in Texas where the sun is hot and the men are hotter. When she's not typing away at her next steamy romance novel, she enjoys hanging out with friends and attending kinky BDSM clubs. Many of the events in her books are based on things that actually happened, and she greatly fancies infusing real life with fantasy.
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Also By Sky Corgan
Bully
Unmatchable
Playing Dom
Damaged
Back to the Heart
Primal
Working for the Billionaires Club
The Snowman
Mixed Up
Sold Innocence
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Bonus Excerpt from Bully
Ah, unrequited love.
Unrequited love is bullshit.
Maybe my love for Bobby Calhoun wasn't unrequited, but it was sure taking a long time for something to come of it. Years. Four of them, to be exact.
In defense of our lack of a relationship, he had been with someone else for the vast majority of those four years. Only a month after we'd met, he hooked up with Christine Lane, a girl he'd met on the internet that lived a state away in Louisiana. I should have worked him harder during that month, but when you first meet someone, there's a whole lot of fumbling around, getting to know each other and acting like a shy idiot—especially when said person was as hot as Bobby was.
I swooned as I thought about him. Long black hair, always flat ironed into straight perfection. Not many guys could get away with having long hair, but Bobby rocked it. I remembered the first time he let me touch it. He had come over to watch movies and was lying on my parents' sectional. I was sitting next to him, paying more attention to him than the movie that was playing. We were watching Grease, which neither of us had ever seen before. Supposedly a classic. I can't tell you half of what happened in the movie because I was so busy being distracted by the delicious boy by my side.
This was the second time he'd come over alone. The first time, I'd invited some of our classmates to my house to study. None of them showed up but him. I was so secretly happy that day. The day that I realized he was more than just good looks.
We were compatible. Anyone could see it. We liked the same movies and music. We both disliked sports. I owned the same owl lamp that he had bought his best friend for Christmas the year before. I was convinced that we were a perfect match. All he had to do was make a move.
Or I did.
Touching his hair wasn't good enough. I was so nervous when I asked if I could do it, though. I had touched him before. Secretly purposefully. Brushing lint off of the front of his shirt. Lingering in his embrace the few times he hugged me to say goodbye. Oh yes, my hands were getting as familiar with his body as they possibly could.
And then my fingers were in his hair. I tried not to look like a complete stalker lunatic as I stared down at him in wonder at how silky the strands were. His hair was so soft. So fine. So perfect. I could have pet him all night. But that would have been weird, and I was already worried he thought I was weird.
For that entire month before he hooked up with Christine, I thought something was there between us. He gave me looks in class and when he saw me in the hallways at school. Looks of interest. Looks beyond friendship.
He came over to my house. Alone. That had to mean something. I mean, what guy would go over to a girl's house to watch a cheesy old 70's movie unless they were interested in her. Right?
And then there were our friends, who thought we would be perfect together. They tried to put the bug in his ear. I even let it slip to his best friend that I liked him and wanted to date him. Nothing ever came of it, though.
I can't help but think that I should have tried harder somehow. But I didn't. And a month after meeting Bobby and spending my time daydreaming about what it would be like to be his girlfriend, he hooked up with someone else.
Not just someone else, but someone he had never even met in person before. Someone who lived a whole state away. Someone he didn't even meet until they were two years into their relationship. I wanted to pull my hair out at the thought that he'd rather date a girl he couldn't physically be with over someone who was right in front of him—a girl who adored him.
That's the way the cards fell, though. He dated Christine, stay
ing ever faithful to her, living in a fantasy world where they'd one day be together. While it was secretly infuriating, it did give me a glimpse into what kind of a boyfriend he would be. The perfect one. He talked about Christine all the time like she just went to a different school instead of living hundreds of miles away. They sent each other text messages throughout the day. He had to speak to her on the phone or via Skype at least once a night. He even sacrificed a lot of fun weekends to stay home and keep her company. Sometimes, it was downright pathetic.
For an entire year, I waited on the sidelines. Surely, online relationships didn't last for very long. I'd been in a few myself, the longest one having a three-month duration. I mean, how else do you date when you're stuck at your parents' house, are too young to drive, and aren't getting approached by guys in real life.
The relationship between Bobby and Christine would crumble whenever he got lonely enough. It had to. He was a teenage boy with raging hormones. The urge to be with a girl intimately would eventually usurp his intangible romance.
It didn't, though.
I scowled at my hamburger while we were sitting with our friends at lunch one day, listening to him talk about playing League of Legends with Christine. We had just started our Sophomore year of high school. They'd officially been together for a year and a few months. He was talking to our friends, not me. Or maybe just to anyone who would listen. I was listening, though you never would have known by how blank my stare was. I was listening to the love in his voice. The excitement that was there—every bit as strong as when the two of them had first gotten together. He wasn't growing tired of her at all. If anything, each day he seemed more in love.
It was then that I decided to shelve my feelings for Bobby. I couldn't go through high school a dateless loser. I couldn't keep pining after someone who was already happily coupled up.
