“I’m not telling anyone. I just wanted you to know that I know. And I’ve known this since you started working at the firm.” Everyone does.
“Oh.” I frown, shrugging. “I guess I don’t have anything else to say, except I’m sorry. I need to straighten myself out. It’s been rough for me since...” I sigh, shaking my head. “Since forever.”
She nods. “Okay. Well, thank you for your honesty. Not a lot of people are.”
“I’m not that upstanding.”
“I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” Rhonda gives me a sad smile and goes to her car on the other side of the driveway. How did I become a major asshole all in one night? Jesus.
Unrolling my sleeves, I take off my bloody flannel, roll it into a ball and hurl it hard into the truck. The buttons angrily tap on the glass before the shirt falls to the floor. Behind the steering wheel, I stare out the windshield. What am I looking for? I thought I had it, albeit fucked up with her wanting two other men but not me. Shit. I was the one who wasn’t good enough for Hadley.
Why is it so goddamned impossible for anyone to be in love with me? To want me for more than a laugh? I’m disposable. Am I only meant to be used and tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage? Is that all I’ll ever be?
If I’m doomed to that fate, I need to learn how to embrace it. If Ricky Tesco can do it without qualms, then maybe I can too. But it’s going to be on my terms, my pace, and my discretion. It has to be. It’s the only way.
Restless, pissed off, and suddenly wanting something so fucking much, I grab my phone and search the messages. I pull up the one I need and knowing where I’m going, I throw the truck in reverse and then do a U-turn out of Brandon’s driveway, even impatient to go forward, waiting for people to get the fuck out of my way.
I leave the snooty section of Richmond and drive until I find the brightly lit complex at the address on my phone. I hunt for the right number, and when I see her car and the number on the wall next to the front door, I park.
It’s late for a surprise visitor, but I don’t care. Light filters through the blinds in the front window, so she must be home. I knock and wait. Footsteps thump on the other side of the door, and then I see her face in the side window. She gapes at me for a few seconds before finally opening the door. “Greg. Why’re you...? Who in the hell did your hair?”
“Brandon’s party. I did. Can I come in, Simone?”
She falters but opens the door for me to step inside. The apartment is bigger and a hundred times nicer than mine. It smells good too. Like cinnamon. Like Simone. It’s also two stories since there’s a staircase by the front door. Boxes line the wall of the small dining room, and stacks of books litter the floor here in the living room. Keeping a distance, she mutters, “You’re the last person I thought I’d ever see again.”
“I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”
“Why?” Her blue eyes try to stay on mine, but they waver before dropping to my chest and then away from me altogether.
“Because.” I can’t even say it out loud yet.
Her fingers go to her hair like she’s suddenly worried about her appearance. I stare at her, watching how her fingers pick up wayward, bright blonde strands until she clears her throat. “How was the party?”
I lick my lips, not sure how to do any of this. “Why weren’t you there?”
“Nobody asked me to go, really. And what was the point anyway?” She waves her hand toward open boxes on the coffee table and near the couch. “I’ve been busy.” Her pink tank top has a small bow at the top, and the material clings to her nipples. I swallow and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, but it doesn’t help.
I catch myself again staring at her, and I shift on my feet, antsy. Simone says, “Ricky said he saw you earlier at the party.”
“When did you talk to him?”
“He was here about an hour ago before he went to work.” That damn prick.
“Did you win him over? Did the plan work after all?” My voice cracks and I swallow hard again, hoping I’m not in the same situation as before with Hadley.
Simone glances at the floor. “No.”
I sigh, not realizing I was holding my breath. My gaze falls to her short shorts, a favorite of Simone’s since she wore them at my apartment all the time. She doesn’t know how much it drove me fucking insane. They rode up at times, exposing her ass when she bent over. “Nice place.” I don’t mean the apartment. I wonder if she was dressed like this when Ricky was here. I hate that.
“Thanks. It’s kind of lonely without Birdy. How is she?”
Tearing my eyes from her shorts, I look into her eyes, which makes her jerk them away from me. “She might not be mine.”
Simone slightly nods. “I figured.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t think you had doubts about Birdy. I thought you knew Shasta was sleeping with Grant. It was none of my business. But if you doubt it, then so do I.”
“I’m having another test done.”
“Good. But no matter what, Birdy needs you.”
I laugh. “I’m no good for her.”
“I think you’re exactly what she needs.”
Edgy, and needing to hide my emergent boner, I shove my hands into my pockets and side-nod to the staircase. “Why don’t you give me a tour?” Maybe that’ll work.
“It’s a fucking mess.” She twists, again motioning to the boxes, but all I notice are her curves, and I struggle not to foam at the mouth or groan out loud.
“So? I won’t call Hoarders this time.”
“Thanks.” She reluctantly smiles but quickly changes her mind. “Here’s the living room.”
“We’ve met.”
Simone walks to the dining room, and I follow, watching her ass. The only tour I want is of her body, and that thought terrifies and excites me.
“This is the dining room. It’s not big, but I didn’t see many apartments that had one.”
“Okay.” Don’t care.
She goes through a doorway, flipping on the overhead light. “The kitchen. At least there’s more room in here.”
“Uh-huh.” I look around, only so I don’t stare at her tits more. It’s painful.
“Um, over here is a bathroom. I hate that it’s off of the kitchen, but I have two bathrooms. I like that. In that closet are a washer and dryer. At least I don’t have to use a laundromat.”
“Yeah.” That does bite. Fuck this, though. Enough already.
“You want a beer?” She goes to the refrigerator, and I watch her shorts rise up as she bends. Jesus Christ. How did I turn her down? I know why I did, but I don’t know where I got the willpower to do it.
She hands me the bottle with a frown. “Bottle opener. Shit. It’s somewhere.”
“Don’t need one.” I snap off the top, handing the bottle to her, which she trades me for hers. I open that one and toss both caps in the trash with pings to the wall.
“Thanks. Aren’t you handy?” She smirks but thinking of what my hand did to Ali earlier sickens me somewhat. I take a swig of my beer and Simone says, “You don’t drink alcohol very much.” Simone left Hadley’s wedding reception before me. She didn’t see me get so fucked up that Ferrara tossed me into his car and dragged me to his couch. Not a usual occurrence for me, especially trusting someone at my worst. It rarely happens anymore. I owe Nico a ton. Not the fingering his sister in the bathroom, though.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. I like that you don’t rely on it as some do.” I take another long drink, and she asks, “What is your costume anyway?”
“Murderous psychopath. My bloody flannel’s in the truck.”
She smiles. “The hair?”
I shrug. “Different.”
“Cool. I love the jeans.”
I laugh. “Yeah. They’re something else.” We stand in the kitchen, neither of us saying more until I ask, “Do I only get the dime tour?”
“Upstairs is just a
bathroom and my bedroom.”
“Okay. Show me the way.” Not my best line.
“Uh... It’s all boxes.”
“Don’t care.” Simone’s gaze casually falls to my crotch, which only makes me more decided.
She winces. “Just... Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the mess.”
“Warned.”
She quietly walks past me, going up the stairs. I eagerly follow as I eyeball her ass. Reaching the second floor, I take another drink of my beer, scrounging nerve from somewhere.
Simone waves toward the bathroom. “Do you need a more thorough view of it?”
“No.”
Going into the only other room upstairs, I almost run into her as she stops to turn on the light. There’s a queen-size bed with a pink comforter, a nightstand with a pink lamp, a dresser, and many boxes. “I got all my clothes put away, but that’s about it.” Again, we’re quiet, drinking our beers. Simone then asks, “So, Greg, why are you really here? Now? Ever? Especially after...” She frowns and blurts, “Shit. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I was uber pushy. I never wanted... I was just so... I’m not usually like that.”
“Like what?”
“So brash. So obnoxious.”
I smirk, and her gaze falls to my mouth. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Garrison.”
“Thanks, D-bag.” Simone giggles but then in a flash is serious again. “I’m sorry for how I came across. But not sorry for...”
I set my beer down on a stack of papers on her dresser. “For...?”
“I’m not sorry for wanting you.” She sucks in her full bottom lip, staring at the wall, but then stands straighter and makes eye contact with me. “Not a single bit.”
I rub my arm in an attempt to push up a damn sleeve I don’t have, an ingrained habit of mine when I’m nervous. “You wanted Tesco. I know you were upset and needed a replacement, but it fucking hurt. It hit me hard and fast.”
She sets down her beer on the nightstand. “You weren’t a replacement.”
“I’ve been helping you snare him. Don’t tell me I’m not a rebound.” I’m an expert.
“Not a single bit,” she repeats, stepping closer to me. Suspicious, I stare at her, waiting for her laughter to prove she’s playing me. But it doesn’t happen. Her eyes stare into mine, almost determined.
I lick my lips, and her pupils dilate. I say, “I’ve had time to think about what happened too. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I didn’t mean to flake out. It wasn’t intentional. I swear. I’m sorry.”
She nods, grinning. “So, what happens now, Greg? Checkers? TV? A movie?” Simone frowns. “Well, movies and games are still packed, and I don’t have cable yet. I think I have—”
I shake my head, cutting her off. “Don’t need ‘em.” I pick up her hand and put it on my aching dick. At first, her hand is still, along with my heart.
Inhaling, I step even closer, her hand still holding onto my me. “I want to give it another try.” My gaze gravitates to her lips, usually covered in pink lipstick. “Let’s fuck, Simone.” Before I chicken out, I unbuckle my belt. The jingling makes her look, and she watches as I also undo the button. “Here’s where we left off. Are you still up for me destroying your cunt?”
Her breaths falter, and her nipples practically double in size through her thin shirt. “Uh... I...” Letting go of my dick, she licks her lips, nervous too, maybe. I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous. “What about your other hang-ups?”
“To hell with Tesco and damn all the complications.” I focus on what we’re about to do and not what happened before. I can’t look back.
“What about this pissing off Finn?” It’s Hadley I want to piss off the most. Ali wasn’t enough to do the job.
“Let it. Like I give a fuck.”
Almost as if on an impulse, Simone reaches up and pulls me to her eager lips, and as readily, I kiss her back. She whimpers at my enthusiasm, and I kiss her harder. I want to do this. I need to do this. I have to keep telling myself that. I must evolve. I need to break these goddamn chains.
I slide my hands up and down her ribs, trying to psych myself up for this, not that I have to physically. It’s all mental. Simone’s hands go to my waistband as we kiss. I want to push her hands away and take a breather, but I don’t do it. She eagerly rips open my zipper and my heart pounds, but I don’t know if it’s desire or fear. I’m riding that fine line between the two.
Her hand slides into my underwear, and her fingers tickle my taut skin. I close my eyes, wanting to enjoy it, but slow panic spreads through me like a fucking oil spill seeping into my veins. But I will prevail. There’s no other option.
I get a slight reprieve when she removes her hand, but it’s only to push down my jeans and underwear. She watches as my dick bounces free, hastening the panic as she takes me in her hand. Simone’s eyes shine in the light as she marvels at me. She then whispers, “Are you sure about this?”
I nod, devoid of any other response. I do want Simone, but it’s probably not for the reason it should be.
She slowly plays with my dick, stroking and trailing her fingertips over me. My hands return to her sides, but this time, I pull up her tank top until it exposes her tits. A sharp twinge shoots through my junk like that lightning bolt I needed earlier. I haven’t wanted sex with anyone besides Hadley. Shasta doesn’t count, only being a stand-in for her. But as Simone lets go of my dick to pull her shirt over her head, I’m overwhelmed with desire for her. Simone. Nobody else. She’s willing to share herself with me, despite her probably getting the raw end of this fuck. I want what I’ve never had before—to be willing and aware. Not for someone to mock and laugh at me. For that reason alone, wanting Simone scares the shit out of me. Where do I go from here? I can’t want Hadley anymore. Or any one woman. It’s only ruined me.
But it all must change. Every damn thing.
I stare at Simone’s perfect tits, right in front of me, naked in the light. Her nipples are pointed and swollen, and I almost drool as more lightning bolts strike my dick. “Greg? What?”
Shaking my head as an answer, and like I’m in a trance, my hands slide up to her chest until I clutch her breasts. Her hard nipples sharply drag over my palms, and she sighs, closing her eyes. But she doesn’t stop stroking my dick. Her hand is slow, and I’m used to fast. Yet, I’m more turned on now than I ever was alone. I move my thumbs over her nipples, flicking them back and forth. Simone pants, “Oh, Greg. I want your mouth on me.”
“Where?”
“Fucking anywhere.”
Bending, I hesitate but then guide her nipple into my mouth. I lightly suck and then drag my tongue on and around it. Her breaths are faster as her other hand goes to the back of my neck, lightly scratching my skin there. She moans my name and with her slowly jacking me still, my body catches fire. As I actually suck her left tit, I grab her ass, thinking of how I watched it when she bent over so many times. How I jerked off to her, fantasizing about it. On the edge of losing my mind, I clutch her shorts in my hands and roughly shove down, needing them to be history.
Switching to her other tit, making Simone pant harder and to run her fingers into the back of my T-shirt and dragging her nails over my skin, I roughly tug her shorts, tearing them off if I could. When she moves to step out of them, her tit falls out of my mouth. Simone is completely naked in front of me. Unable to control myself, my hand goes to her bare pussy, rubbing my fingers over her skin. She whimpers, “Fuck.” I must be doing something right for the second time tonight.
I run my fingers between the lips below, feeling how wet she is, and then push two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out. She moans, slightly moving her hips in rhythm with my hand. Not crazed like Ali, but slow and steady. Sexy.
Her hand returns to my dick, and I pant with her. “I want to fuck your pussy. Now. Condom. Back pocket. Wallet.” With my jeans around my thighs, Simone stretches, and I squeeze her ass with my other hand, painfully hardening more. When she realizes my walle
t is on a chain, she yanks hard, breaking the chain from my jeans. Fucking hot. She ransacks my wallet, finding the dick slick while I finger her faster, impatient to fuck her.
She stammers, “I’m on birth control, but I took antibiotics for a sinus infection a couple weeks ago.” She tosses my wallet behind her on the nightstand. I stop fingering her but before I can take off my boots and jeans, Simone pushes me, and I fall backward onto her bed. I immediately sit up on my elbows as I watch her crawl over to me. Her lips go for mine, and her hand goes to my dick. She concentrates on the head, stroking me exactly the way I get off by myself.
Pulling away from her mouth, I moan, “Goddamn, Simone,” and when her hand cups my balls, I yell, “Oh, Christ!” I try to push off my left boot with my right so I can take off my jeans, but they’re not budging.
Simone kisses my neck as she plays with my agonized dick. Still on my elbows, I watch her fingers drift down my shaft, and I steady my breaths. I can do this. I want to fuck. Her hand grips me, and I want to let go of everything. I want to enjoy this, but my fear is like one of those pending sneezes, ready to strike when I think I’m okay.
“I want your cock, swizzle stick. Our sex will break this bed. Set fire to this apartment. The best ever.” She looks into my eyes, and I can’t look away. I’ve gotten this far with her, so I relax enough that I’m not as paranoid.
Swallowing, I take a risk, asking, “You gonna yell my name? Scream for me when my dick smashes your pussy?” I’m setting myself up for a fucking disaster if I can’t deliver.
Wide-eyed, Simone eagerly nods but doesn’t use actual words, almost like she’s speechless, which would be a first. Without all that pink lipstick or black eyeliner, I notice the small freckles scattered over her cheeks. Even her eyes are bluer. Surprising both of us when my hand goes to her face, I accidentally tell her the truth. “You’re so damn pretty.”
Her grin is instant but so is her kiss. And it’s more intense than before as she licks and then sucks on my tongue. My hand goes into her hair, and I hold her to me as my tongue shoves at hers, fucking her mouth with it. Simone’s hand jacks me faster, bringing me closer to desperation. Going for another spontaneous truth, I whisper, “God. I want you, Simone.”
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