by Alex Rosa
He sits up, placing his hands on either side of my ribs. “I want to see all of you.” His eyes drop to my breasts. “But what’s this?”
His eyes fall to the rectangular shape outlined on the left side of my bra.
I gasp. “Oh my God, let me—”
I go to reach for the card stock hidden from this exact person. He swats my hand away. “What do we have here?” He slides his hand under my sports bra, gliding over my breast, rubbing my nipple between his fingertips.
I push my chest into his hands. “Nate, you don’t ever play fair.”
He chuffs, sliding his hand to the little card, pulling it free, and then gawks at it. His smile nearly splits his face in half as he recognizes it.
“Keeping me close, eh?”
I shake my head, grab the card from him, and throw it across the room like a Frisbee. “Absolutely not. You weren’t supposed to see that. I remembered I had your card, and was going to ask Garrett if I could borrow his phone and then—”
Nate presses two fingers against my lips to silence me. His eyes flat and unamused by the mention of my roommate’s name, as if it will drown out his libido.
“Less talking, more fucking. Condom?” he asks.
I nod, understanding. I’d rather focus on the task.
“Nightstand drawer,” I direct.
I’m about to crawl over him so I can grab it, but he’s already twisting his body to reach for it, the nightstand in easy reach. He pulls open the drawer. When he pulls out my small, red vibrator disguised as a tube of lipstick, I turn puce.
“You’re supposed to grab a condom, not that thing,” I guffaw, annoyed and embarrassed.
He’s all smugness and wiggling brows. “You’re full of so many surprises this evening. First the business card, now this? You didn’t tell me you had one of these.”
I pull my sports bra over my head, in the hope of distracting him now that I’m fully naked, other than the socks he asked me to leave on. “You never asked. Plus, I hate to break it to you, but it’s never been used. It was gifted to everyone in my office as a Christmas present.”
He shakes his head, and his dick twitches beneath me. “What kind of place gifts g-spot vibrators?”
“The women’s magazine I work for.” I roll my eyes, pawing at his chest. “Put it back, and grab a condom,” I demand.
He shakes his head, but still grabs for a condom tucked away under a notebook. It’s been awhile since I’ve needed one in this sanctuary.
“Oh no, we’re going to use it.”
“Nate,” I attempt to reprimand. “Is this another lesson? I thought we—”
“We don’t need a reason for everything.”
My teeth come down on my bottom lip. “How will that thing feel?”
“Intense,” he replies between a wispy breath, as if the thought of it puts him on the orgasmic brink.
“My roommate’s home. What if he hears?”
Nate’s Grinch-like smile is as cartoony as it is sexy. “I don’t give a shit. Let him hear.”
I should probably feel guilty, but years of being on the receiving end of unrequited love when it comes to Garrett, and also the fact I’m completely infatuated with Nate, pushes me forward. I tell myself that I’ll be quiet to make it fair.
Nate gestures for me to scoot back on his thighs so he can roll the condom over his waiting extremity. He places the small vibrator beside him on the bed. I’d stare at the thing if I weren’t so distracted by Nate’s finesse as he makes fast work of the condom.
He sits up straight, putting use nose to nose like earlier, causing me to gasp in surprise. He brushes his lips featherlight against mine, nipping at my bottom lip. I wrap my arms around his neck to keep him close and to steady myself. My rapid heartbeat tells me I’m anxious, and I worry he can hear it thumping.
Nate’s hands curve around the flesh of my hips, lifting me slightly and placing me above his cock.
He nips again at my lip, this time soothing it with his tongue right after. “How badly do you want it?” he growls.
This is his favorite game. Mine too now.
Desire drips from my every pore as I lift a heavy, determined stare to his in sweet anticipation.
“I want it so. Fucking. Bad.”
Without warning, he pushes my hips down, and I take all of him inside in one plunging move. I groan his name as my body acclimates to the fill, stretching, but seeking out more movement, more friction, more Nate.
He directs me, capturing my moan with his lips, soaking in it as he ravages my mouth. His hands direct my hips to move up and down. He sets a steady pace as I follow, loving every toe-curling, deep drive of his body into mine.
He moans my name against my lips, adding, “So good every God damn time.”
His tongue tangles around mine, exploring my mouth with frantic fervor before he pulls back, watching my confused look. My mouth mourns for the loss of his.
He keep my hips moving with guiding squeezes of my flesh, and I feel on fire everywhere, but it singes at his fingertips where he holds me. I nearly buckle under the sensation building as my clit rubs against his body with every fill. He leans back onto the bed.
“Ride me. The way you want.”
The way I want.
His hands slide away from my hips, down to my thighs, until reaching the thin fabric of my socks. His fingertips dig into the cotton and heated skin underneath it.
“Ride my cock, Lauren,” he repeats.
I place my palms flat on his stomach, and close my eyes, allowing myself to feel every inch of him.
My hips pick up their pace, matching the beat of my rapid heart, faster than before.
The coiling of nerves happens between my legs with each downward motion, Nate’s cock hitting the deep, impossible spot that drives me crazy.
Bzzzz.
My eyes fly open in combination with the slowing of my hips, the orgasm fading.
I catch sight of Nate with the small vibrator in his hands. “Don’t stop. Keep going. Just close your eyes again.”
His hips buck, egging me on. I can’t help but crack a satisfied smile as I obey, needing to find that release. The fading orgasm only made my body tense with need.
I allow my eyes to drift closed, picking up where I left off, riding his body, and owning him with mine.
“You feel amazing,” Nate groans.
It makes me want to go faster. My hips slam back down, enticing a moan of elated pleasure. The slap of my body against his sends that earth-shattering pitch building inside me higher and higher.
Nate presses the small vibrator against my clit. I exclaim a loud gasp, but my hips buck against it in surprising eagerness.
“Keep going,” he says between slow, ragged breaths as he presses the device against my center, drawing little circles. The tingling intensifies, and all I can do is pant with every drive of my hips into his, clutching his narrow hips close.
My vision blurs as I ride him harder. The orgasm rises to the surface while my hips beg for more. I reach my peak and the blinding sensation rockets through my body.
“Nate, I’m going to co—”
“Let go,” he grunts.
My eyes flicker open enough to see him losing himself to it all, too. His jaw clenches tight, rough with effort of his restraint. He bucks into my hips with a wicked smile, and I’m done. I let go, falling over the edge, moaning his name, trying to bite down on my bottom lip to hold the sound back, but the vibrator on my clit is only pressed harder, driving out the most intense, earth-shattering orgasm I’ve ever had.
My hips press into it, but flinch every other second, overwhelmed with sensation. I repeat Nate’s name as I lose my mind to pleasure. My core tightening around his cock in ecstasy.
A hard rumbling tremble rolls through the body from the man under me, his hips driving into me with his release. His sharp breaths slice through the air as he tries to hold back his sounds, too.
“Oh, fuck,” he says, his body nearly curling on itself as he rides throu
gh the tremors.
I collapse over his chest. The vibrator is pulled away as his arms come around me, clutching me close as we pant through the aftershocks of our orgasm.
I peer up at him through my lashes, pursing my lips. He doesn’t need to know it’s to keep my heart from tunneling up my throat when I witness his current state: his eyes closed, hearing the sweet sounds of his leveling breaths, while his face looks relaxed and utter satiated. I could easily become obsessed with the sight.
His eyes open, catching me staring.
A smile slithers onto my mouth.
“You think your roommate heard?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. How could Garrett not hear what was going on? I didn’t hold back as much as I should have.
I lay my forehead on Nate’s chest, shaking my head. “Good God.”
Nate laughs, and so do I.
I roll off Nate, and collapse onto the bed. I scramble to cover myself with the comforter.
His smug smile tells me he thinks my modesty is absurd, but still follows suit. He pulls the condom from his body, knotting it, and tosses it to the floor before climbing under the covers, too, pulling the sheets over his hips.
We’re cozy, lying close. I like it more than I should.
“How was that?” he quips.
“It was nice,” I reply.
He shakes his head, “Did you just say nice?”
I giggle, covering my face. “Yep. Very nice?” I offer.
“I was hoping for something more like, ‘Nathan, that was fucking amazing. I want to do it over and over again until I pass out. We should always use a vibrator!’”
I release more streams of loud giggles while leaning over to cover his mouth with my palm. “Would you keep it down? Jeez!” I wait until I can feel his smile under my hand before pulling it away. I give him a wry smirk. “First off, I’d never call you Nathan unless I was scolding you. Secondly,” I hum. “Okay, I might say all that if you weren’t so fricken arrogant, but probably not about that vibrator thing.”
He laughs. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.”
He jabs a finger into my stomach, igniting more laughter. I swat his hand away.
“Moving on, oh arrogant one …”
The right side of his mouth twitches with his right brow as this calm, comical air settles between us, and I can’t help but find comfort in it. It’s still thick with attraction, but a relaxed openness that allows laughter and smiles, and careless words and touches.
Something between us has changed. It’s as if the perimeters of our arrangement don’t exist here. It’s obvious that they’ve been the only thing holding us back.
Nate doesn’t seem to care when we aren’t under the veil of neon, or my scribbling pen. This extracurricular activity is an off-the-record interaction. We don’t say it, but we know it. We’re too hungry for a real connection at this point, or at least I hope so.
“Well, I’m glad I decided to stop by tonight.”
“Me too.” I grin. “Perfect timing, really.”
He nods, his face softening into a more serious look. “Was I interrupting something?”
His tone tells me he knows he was.
“Kind of, but it was a savior.”
“I didn’t hear you and your roommate talking before walking in, but I did when you pushed me into your bedroom.”
It almost sounds like a confession when matched with the transition of his amber eyes, round and apologetic.
I lick my lips, my smile fading. “Oh, yeah?”
He nods. “So, what are you going to do about your roommate?”
A huff of a laugh bursts through my lips. It’s an absurd question, because if I knew the answer I wouldn’t feel so crazed. He must’ve heard the whole conversation. Which reminds me that Garrett is just down the hall. I try not to cringe with guilt.
I tweak a brow, hopeful with the need to figure out the answer to his question, and to vent, but also wanting something in return.
“Hold up, Sparky. That’s a personal question. I don’t have a problem talking about this, but I want you to be honest with me, too. I give; you give.”
He shifts, turning toward me, perching his head on his hand as he leans onto it.
“Okay.”
I go wide-eyed. “Okay?” I question, shocked that he’s agreeing. “Are you serious? That was almost too easy.”
“Yeah. I mean, we’ve crossed so many lines tonight anyway.”
A blush heats my cheeks. “I guess.” I face him so our eyes are level. I tap my chin. “Where to start? What am I going to do? Hmm. I’m not sure. Garrett told me he loved me, but it’s because he’s confused. He’s saying it for the wrong reasons. I actually believe he does love me, but the idiot’s too late now.”
“Too late?” Nate questions, his eyes dancing between mine as if I’m a puzzle he needs to solve, each word a new piece to assemble.
“Yeah. If we’re getting real here, Nate, I’ve pretty much been in love with Garrett since he asked to borrow my pen at the orientation before our freshman year of college. Beside his stupid flaws and terrible habit with toying with my emotions, he’s been my best friend for five years. Sure, maybe I always hoped he’d get his shit together, but I must’ve moved on without realizing it.” I pause, shaking my head. “Now that he’s the one telling me he wants me, I realize I no longer want him. Funny how life works out, huh?”
Nate continues to dissect me with his stare. I’m afraid he’s going to ask me what I want now, or what changed. I see the questions there, lingering in the gold flecks of his eyes. I’m even more terrified that I’d reply with something irrational like, “You,” even if it is never something I considered until right now.
I bite the tip of my tongue for good measure as I let the silence hang.
“You told him that?” he asks.
I shake my head, a dry gulp of remorse appearing. “Yes and no. I told him it’s too late, but I also said I need time. There’s so much going on, and I care about him. I don’t think it’s in my best interest to reject it outright. Who knows when the fog clears in my brain.”
My stare trails off into the distance at the closed door behind Nate, thinking of the man down the hall.
“Do you mean that?” Nate asks, as if he can hear the doubt brewing in my mind.
“I want to say I do, but I worry I don’t have it in me to risk it for Garrett again.”
“Ya know, it’s okay. You’d know if it was the right thing to do. Your heart wouldn’t question the leap. If you hesitate, then it’s probably not right.”
I toy with the white linen sheet between us with my fingertip, drawing tiny circles, bashfully dropping my line of vision there. “I’ve risked it all for him before. Our friendship hasn’t been lacking with forbidden moments, but every time I took the leap, thinking he’ll do it for me too, he fell short every time.”
Nate’s hand at my chin, curving up my jaw to lift my stare to his, distracts me from more words.
“There’s one thing that always rings true. Even if I’m the ultimate pessimist on this subject. You deserve to be loved the way you want to be loved. Does Garrett?”
“No, he doesn’t,” I confess.
Nate’s thumb drags over my bottom lip. “Then he isn’t worth the risk.” His hand drops from my chin.
I breathe in his words, finding them enlightening and worth cementing into my brain. “Nathan Sanders, the wise. Constantly full of surprises.”
When he doesn’t fill the void of silence, I peer at him. A question that has been bouncing around in my brain since meeting him screams to be answered.
“Nate, what do you do for a living? I need to know. I’ve been trying to figure it out, and you can’t back out of answering! I didn’t just confess my disastrous love life to you to have you hold back.”
He releases a long huff as he collapses onto his back.
“Do I have to?”
“What did I just say?” I goad, scooting closer to him.
; His chin falls to the right, making the tips of our noses touch. He presses a surprising kiss against my lips, short and sweet. “I’m a psychiatrist. A relationship psychiatrist, to be exact.”
My eyes go wide as my mouth drops open. The corners of his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of oncoming laughter. I shake my head, and I’m on the verge of shouting something ridiculous, “You’re—”
He slams his lips to mine, and rolls his body over me, pinning me back into the bed. An involuntary moan escapes me as his hard, sinewy body presses into me. He holds my arms on either side of my head as he finishes his hard possession of my mouth.
It takes me a second to regain my wits, my eyes flickering open while I pull in a heavy breath. I stare up at Nate hovering above me, unable to move, but still finding a way to give him an ear-to-ear grin.
“A psychiatrist? You are so fucked up!” I snort.
He gasps. “How am I fucked up? This coming from the woman using me as sex club research.”
My mouth goes agape, and I try to pull my arms free from his, but they can’t budge.
“You know why you’re fucked up? Because you’ve been psychoanalyzing me this whole time. It makes complete sense now! Don’t even get me started on the fact you were the one using me as a plaything to test my innocence. For a shrink, you sure are like a mad scientist.”
He buries his head into my neck to hide his belts of unrestrained laughter. His body vibrates with the bass of the release against me, and his humid breaths against my neck send a tingle down my spine.
“Did you say you were a relationship psychiatrist, too? The guy who says he’s shit at them?”
He groans this time, lifting his head to lock a sardonic stare to mine. “Actually, what I said was, I’m shit at commitment. Very different principles. Also, I’m better at giving advice than following my own.”
“Naturally,” I chide. My eyes dissect his steel features and the lifted corners of his mouth. “So, now I definitely don’t understand you and Fahrenheit.”
He sighs, thinking something over. He grunts, as if whatever he’s decided is not something he’d do willingly.
“It’s complicated. I don’t know why I’m bothering explaining this other than it’d be nice to feel understood. It’s why I couldn’t give you an answer to your question last night. You wanted to know what led me to Fahrenheit. Why I tried it out, and why I stayed. I would’ve had to reveal that I psychoanalyze other peoples’ relationships for a living, and the fact I couldn’t get a grip on my own life after my break-up had me seeking out a type of sexual outlet I didn’t know I needed. It would’ve given too much of myself away.”
