by Anna Brooks
“Yes. I need to feel something. I don’t exactly know what, but you make me feel a lot of things, and I want to feel everything with you.”
Angel, devil… which one should I choose? She’s asking, begging, practically. And as fucked up as it is, I know I’m not going to turn her away, because for as much as she thinks she wants this, I know I need it more.
As always, the devil wins. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons why I’m going to hell. “Are you on the pill?”
She bites her lip and nods. “Yeah.”
“Took a test before I started working at Complexity.”
“Me too.”
“So I get to feel you with nothing between us?”
“Yeah.”
My throat rumbles as I press my crotch against her hot center. “You sure?”
Instead of an answer, she pulls my head closer to her and slams her lips down on mine.
Chapter 6
Polly
When his tongue slides against mine, my nails dig into his arms. He grabs the globes of my ass, lifts me up, and carries me over to my bed. He falls with me down to the mattress, his hard body balancing above mine and giving me a comfort I’ve never had because I didn’t know it was out there.
I feel dizzy, deliriously turned on, and I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him even closer. He pushes me deeper into the mattress and grinds his very hard, very large dick against me. My hands fly to his head and tug on his hair, as the ache between my legs tightens.
He rises up a bit and looks down into my eyes. He swivels his hips, making me purr. “Damn, Polls. You’re gonna come already, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” I grit the words out as my eyes begin to roll back.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes on a gasp as he swivels his hips. “It’s been a while.”
His sexy lips tilt up into a satisfied smirk. Imagining what those lips could do between my legs rocks me to my core, and an orgasm explodes. A really good one, too. A really big one that I wasn’t expecting. Not that I didn’t think it’d be amazing with him, just that it was embarrassingly quick. But if all I have is one night, then I’m going to take everything I can.
The way his jaw loosens and his chest heaves makes the high that much better. As I’m still coming down, he reaches for my t-shirt, pushes it up, and grabs both of my breasts over my plain black bra. His large hands knead them and then pinch my nipples through the material.
“Shit,” I say, panting. He tugs at my jeans, and I lift my hips to help get them off. Just as I reach for my panties, he rips them in half.
My hands frantically yank at his shirt, and he helps my shaky fingers by pulling it off. Then in one swift motion, he pushes his jeans down. Something about him leaving his boots on and his pants around his ankles practically gives me another orgasm.
He kneels on the bed and inches forward, grabbing my ankles and throwing my legs apart. When the tip of his dick touches my clit, I grab the sheets. He uses one hand and taps the head there again and again, then slides two of his fingers inside me. “Oh, my God.”
“You’re so damn tight, Polly. I can’t wait to stretch this out with my cock.” He pumps his fingers in and out, each time harder and faster than the last. “Come for me again. I want to slide inside you when you’re still coming and feel how much tighter you can get. I want you dripping when I fuck you.”
An incomprehensible noise bursts out of my throat, and he leans over me a bit, my clit dying for attention without him there. His eyes, glazed over, meet mine. Another smirk plays on his lips, and he says, “Come for me.” Then he pinches the hood of my clit and presses down in a very hard, very slow circle as his fingers curl inside me, eliciting a sensation I’ve never felt before and making stars dance in front of my eyes.
My entire body is buzzing, and I’m flying so damn high that I don’t even notice when he takes his hand away. But when he slides into me, hard and thick, I can barely catch my breath.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He slides his hands down my legs, grasps my calves and wraps them around his back. Then his hands slide back up, past my hips and over my stomach. When they reach my bra, he pushes the cups up and toys with each breast. “You good?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“That’s great fuckin’ news.” I squeeze my legs around him, but that’s where my control ends. As he’s thrusting in and out so, so good, he grabs my wrists in one hand and holds them over my head. His other hand is all over me. Under me kneading my butt, between my legs rubbing my clit, and then finally, he inches his way up to my mouth. He rubs his thumb along my lips, and I open, wanting him inside me any way I can get. He slides it against my tongue, I suck my juices off, and we both groan as ecstasy engulfs us, taking me somewhere between euphoria and heaven.
A string of curse words leaves his mouth and then his big frame collapses on top of mine, but he supports his weight somehow, because I’m not smooshed. After a few minutes of collecting ourselves, I start to move beneath him a bit, and he takes the hint and rolls off me.
“Where are you going?” Damn. His voice is even sexier now.
“I need to clean up.” Hopefully, he’ll get dressed and leave, so we don’t have to deal with any awkwardness. Taking my time in the bathroom, I wet a washcloth and take care of business, then brush my teeth and grab a robe from the hook on the wall. When I open the door, he’s still on my bed. I also see his jeans and boots in a pile. They were on him the entire time we were having sex, so what the hell is he doing?
I walk across the small studio apartment and get a drink of water, then fill a glass for him. His head is propped on a pillow, and he’s lying on my bed in a pair of gray boxer briefs and nothing else. As I approach, he turns his head and opens his eyes. If I wasn’t going commando right now, his smile would melt my panties right off.
“Come here.” He holds out his arms, and I sit on the bed, unsure of what exactly he’s asking. After drinking the water, he sets his glass on the floor, wraps an arm around me, and pulls me down. I squeal in alarm and drop my water on the bed. The glass doesn’t break, but the water soaks the sheets. Well, wetter than they were. He quickly moves the glass to the floor next to his. “That was incredibly fuckin’ amazing.” His lips trail soft kisses on the back of my neck, and I stiffen at his words. He must sense my hesitation, because he pauses and rolls me so I’m on my back. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“What was that?” he asks again. It’s kind of uncanny how he’s able to read me so well.
“Nothing.” I blow some hair off my face. “I just don’t know what you want me to say.” I thought it would be one and done for him.
He raises an eyebrow, and it makes him even sexier. Damn him. “Erik, that was the best sex I’ve ever had. Erik, you rocked my world. Erik, I’ll never be the same.”
I laugh and give him a girly slap. “Shut up.”
One of his arms is propped, holding his head up while he lies on his side. He reaches across me with the other and slides his finger between the lapels of my robe, between my breasts, and down to my belly button. My breath hitches.
“You’re so beautiful, Polly.” With deft fingers, he unties the knot and pushes it open all the way. Goose bumps cover my skin where the material was, and he leans over and presses a kiss on my hip. He slides his tongue all the way over and repeats his kiss on the other side. I cross my ankles and rub my thighs together, the need he causes slowly building again. “How many times do you think I can make you come right now?”
Before I get the chance to answer, he climbs off the bed, takes off his underwear, and then nips and kisses his way up from my ankle to the top of my thigh. When he gets there, he goes back down and does the same to the other leg. His mouth finally closes over me, and my hips shoot up. He pushes them back down to the bed and circles my hypersensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. “Stay still, baby. Just relax and let me take care of you.”
I don’t
know what it is… if it’s what he says or what he makes me feel or a combination of it, but suddenly, emotion rises, and as much as I try to tone it down, I can’t. Tears roll out of my eyes, and as I clench my stomach to try to even out my breathing, he slides a finger inside me, and I come undone. Burst wide open. My voice cracks when I say his name, and his head whips up from between my legs.
“What’s the matter?” He crawls up so his face is over mine, but I shake my head.
“Nothing.”
“You’re crying.” His brows come together, and he wipes my cheeks with his thumbs.
The movement makes his hardness bump against me, and I watch in fascination as his features fight to display how turned on he is. I wrap my legs around his back and pull him closer. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not going to be inside you when you’re crying.”
“They’re… They’re happy tears.”
He looks even more confused now, and I gather myself to try to explain. “Nobody’s ever… I’ve never felt this, and I thought you’d be gone when I came out of the bathroom and I… I—”
“It’ll be okay. We’ll be all right, Polls.” He silences my babbling with his lips then rests his forehead on mine. Without missing a beat, he sinks into me, and my back arches as every inch gives more pleasure than the last. My tears have all dried up, and in their place is a fire burning bright for a man who brings me more than just pleasure.
With his eyes on mine, he watches my face as he makes love to me. Slow. Gentle. Beautiful. His lips fuse with mine, and he rolls us over so I’m on top while keeping our connection. I sit up with the intent to move along with the furious rhythm of my heart, but he intertwines our fingers and pulls me down so our faces are close. “Slow, baby.”
I rock back and forth and side to side. I circle my hips, and I raise and lower myself. My thighs burn, but the ache between them is what’s more intense, and as I’m about to hit another peak, his words throw me over the edge. “Take me with you, Polly.”
* * *
Erik has thrown his arm over my stomach, and I stare at the ceiling. I had no clue, no freaking idea, that sex could be that good. Part of it was probably all the intimacy we shared right before he slid into me. I’ve never had someone make love to me. Never had somebody care if it was good for me. I’d crave it but was never fully satisfied, not like this.
Throughout my life, I never thought about the future. I only focused on today and maybe tomorrow. I didn’t think there was any hope for me. But right now, I’m fighting everything inside me that’s screaming this can’t happen.
Erik is a good man. He’s perfect in every sense of the word, and I don’t deserve someone like him. And no, I’m not being a martyr; I’m being realistic. I have no family. My past is something out of a made-for-TV movie. I don’t even know how to have a relationship. Dating is not something I know and not something I’d be good at. Besides, I need to focus on keeping my head above water and relying on myself. I can’t rely on a man again. I can’t do it anymore. No matter how much I want to.
Years ago, I’d be all over Erik. I’d jump at the chance to be with him and relish in the attention he threw my way. I’d tell myself that he loved me and I’d try to be who I thought he wanted me to be. I’d do anything just to have someone tell me they loved me. But I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m not that insecure anymore.
The old me was so desperate for someone to love me that I disregarded every single red flag and warning sign that hit me in the face. Like when Richard took me to his house from the hospital. There were so many flags they should have blinded me. But instead, I was in denial. How fucked up is that? So desperate that I lived with a diagnosed psychopath and didn’t even realize it.
And I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I’m smart enough to realize I shouldn’t base a relationship on what I had with Richard. Or the men before him. That I know. But that’s also what makes me so jaded for the affection Erik is offering me right now.
My lids finally become heavy, and I know I need to try to get some sleep. Otherwise, I’ll be dead on my feet at the diner. I close my eyes, and I swear only four minutes have gone by when Erik wakes me up.
“Your alarm is going off, Polly,” he whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek.
“No way. I just fell asleep.” I groan and reach for my alarm clock on the nightstand then slap my hand around until I hit it enough to stop the beeping.
I grab a pillow and hold it over my head. Through the material, I hear him laugh. The bed moves a tad, and the slapping of his feet on the old wood floor fades and then the bathroom door closes. I quickly whip the covers off me, hop down, then grab my robe and put it on.
My legs are stubbly, and I never washed my makeup off last night. I desperately need to brush my teeth and take a shower, but he’s in there. I dig through my dresser, grab some clean clothes, and walk toward the bathroom when the toilet flushes.
He comes out, and I pick at the hem of my robe to avoid looking at him. It’s not fair that he looks so good in the morning. As I pass him, he grabs my arm, pulls me to him, then kisses my forehead. I duck my head again, but he stops me and turns my body so I’m facing him. His thumb hooks beneath my chin, pushing it up so I’m looking at him.
When I finally meet his eyes, he says, “Morning, baby.”
Maybe it’s because I’m twenty-eight years old and have never had anybody call me a term of endearment. ‘Damn, bitch, you know how to suck’ doesn’t count. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had anybody look at me the way he is right now. But more than likely, it’s because all the bad shit, dirt, and pain aside, him saying that to me is the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me. And not because of the words but because of the sincerity in his delivery.
I lick my lips and try to say something, but he’s rendered me speechless. Warmth rises from by belly and my face heats up as my eyes begin to burn. He watches, sees it all. Just like the very first time we ran into each other. He sees me.
“I know,” he whispers.
Because I’m a moron, I turn and walk to the bathroom then shut and lock the door. My back hits the wood, and I take deep breaths to calm myself. Or at least try to. After a long, hot shower, I feel a little better. A little more back to normal.
My hair is still damp, so I put it up in a bun before I exit the bathroom. Erik is leaning against the wall with his leg bent at the knee and his phone in his hand. If I said I didn’t like him in my space, I’d be lying. He lifts his head and gives me a weird look.
“What?”
“I would make something to eat, but you have like no food in your house.” He pushes off the wall.
“Yeah. I, uh, I need to go shopping.”
“What do you normally eat for breakfast?” His feet bring him closer.
“I’m not a big breakfast eater.”
“Okay.” He shakes his head and stops a foot away. “What do you eat at night?”
For some reason, I try to think of a lie, but nothing comes to me. I don’t want him to know the embarrassing truth, or truths. Somehow, I know he’ll try to fix it, and I don’t need him to. I need to learn to survive on my own, and part of that is learning how to cook. I don’t know how to now, but I plan to learn at some point.
“Polly.” He practically growls my name.
“I need to go to work.” It’s early, but it’s an excuse to get out of here. I walk past him and grab my purse, but then pause at the door, remembering I don’t have a car. “Shit.”
“Come on.” He opens the door for me. “I’ll give you a ride.”
After locking the doors, we walk down the street to his car. As we drive away, he reaches for my hand as though it’s second nature, and I understand because I feel the same way. I want to say something, but I know if I open my mouth, I’ll ruin the moment. When he turns the wrong way, I end up doing just that.
“The restaurant is the other way.”
He ignores me, pulls into the parking lot of a
breakfast place, and shuts the engine off.
“What are you doing?”
“You need to eat.” He takes the keys out of the ignition, slams his door after he gets out, and then walks around to my side. When he opens my door, I don’t move. “Come on, babe. It’ll take twenty minutes to get you fed, and then I’ll drop you off at the diner.”
“I’m not hungry, and I need to go to work. You can drop me off then come back if you’re hungry.”
“Polly, don’t.” He crouches down and puts his hands on my thigh. “You need to eat. I know I’m starving. I mean, I’m not complaining about what I ate instead of my usual snack, but…”
I can’t help but laugh even though I’m irritated with him for assuming I wanted to come here. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“But you’re even more beautiful when you laugh.”
“Erik.” I turn to him. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“But you want me to.”
The truth is hard to swallow, but I manage to push it down and shake my head. “No. I don’t.”
“Well, I don’t give a shit. When was the last time you ate something?”
“What difference does it make?”
He sighs. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I care about you, all right? I don’t think my taking you to breakfast is the end of the world.”
He’s right, but if I give in, he’s going to think that I’ll do whatever he says. And I promised… promised myself that I would never let a guy tell me what to do again. I’ve done nothing but be pushed around and treated like an accessory. I had control of one thing, and one thing only my entire adult life, and I just gave it all to him last night. I handed over my damn heart.
But I really am hungry, though. Besides, after today, he’s not going to want to do this again. This is just an obligatory walk—no, drive—of shame that’s ending with food.
“If you don’t have the money for groceries, I’ll happily take you shopping.”
And there goes my pride. And my feelings. Without any more words, I undo my buckle and push past him, stomping to the restaurant. How dare he? How dare he think I can’t afford food? I can afford it. I can buy food if I want to. I’ll buy his damn breakfast just to prove it.
