by Maisey Yates
He thrust hard as he gripped her butt and pulled her forward, seated so deep inside of her she couldn’t tell anymore if they were separate people. It didn’t feel like it. It felt like they were one person. Sharing the same pain, the same pleasure, the same heady rush of exquisite and torturous need.
Water poured down over them, his skin slick with it. She moved her hands over his back, his butt, as he continued to pound into her, driving everything away but the moment. Every demon, every doubt, every fear.
Travis was all there was.
And he was all she wanted.
“Travis,” she said, speaking his name, over and over again. Like a prayer that might hold back the darkness. Or in their case, a prayer that might keep away the dawn.
They shuddered out their pleasure together, clinging to each other as the wave tossed them, threatened to drown them.
When it passed, she lay there, cradling his head to her breasts, hearing nothing but the sound of the water on the tile and their breathing.
“I think the floor might be a little hard for you,” he said, brushing her hair out of her face.
“I didn’t even feel it.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m falling through space, I’m pretty sure. When I come back down, it’ll hurt like hell.”
“Then I’ll make sure you have a mattress underneath you.”
He moved away from her, bent over her, gathering her into his arms before scooping her up and depositing her outside of the shower.
He shut the water off and took a perfectly folded white towel from the rack on the wall. “White,” he said. “How interesting. All things considered.”
“Not as gothic as the rest of the place.”
He ran the towel over her bare skin, catching all of the droplets with it. “You look good in it, though.”
Something about the statement made her heart stop. Made her body seize up.
“Not especially,” she said.
“You do to me.”
She wrapped the towel around her body and watched him towel off. She didn’t know why she was so fascinated by such a routine activity. But then, it drew attention to the way his muscles shifted and bunched as he moved into different positions. Showed off the strong lines of his thighs, the hard ridges on his stomach, the little dent in the side of his butt.
All very fascinating and interesting things about Travis, so she was discovering.
To say nothing of his male equipment which was, in her estimation, extremely impressive.
He dropped his towel and approached her, scooping her up again with total ease before walking them out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.
“I think you might need some sleep,” he said.
He walked them over to the bed and deposited her in the middle of it. A lump rose in her throat when she thought of how fast it would all pass if she closed her eyes for just a moment. She wanted to argue. But she suddenly felt so tired she didn’t know if she could stay conscious for another five minutes.
But she didn’t want to sleep. Because then when she opened her eyes, their night would be over. The break from the world, from reality, would be gone, and they would have to face what was left.
The loss of Sarah. The change in their friendship.
And she just didn’t want to deal with any of those things.
He tugged the towel away from her and pulled the covers back. She scrambled to the top of the bed and burrowed beneath the covers, and he slipped in behind her, pulling her close.
He put his hand on her stomach and held her to him, his chin resting on her shoulder.
It was the most perfect moment she could ever remember.
Because right now she was with her best friend. And her lover. And he was holding her like he would never let go.
So it seemed safe to close her eyes.
Just for a moment.
Chapter Five
Travis never slept. All he did was watch Sydney sleep. All he did was spend every hour of the night acutely aware of her curves pressed against every inch of him.
She was softer than he’d ever imagined she might be. He’d barely dared imagine it. Not while he was awake. When he dreamed, it was another matter entirely.
He couldn’t always control himself there. In his dreams, it was always Sydney. Always had been.
He loved that woman so much it hurt. And now he could truly acknowledge that’s what it was. That he loved her. That it wasn’t just a bad case of lust gone unsatisfied for too many years.
Because it had been easy to play it off that way.
She was, after all, the first woman he’d ever wanted to kiss. He could remember that moment well. They’d been maybe twelve or thirteen, heads together, talking about something in the back garden at his parents’ house and he had suddenly lost his breath.
Everything had been reduced to her. Her face. Her lips.
Right then, he’d wanted more than anything to lean in and kiss her.
But he hadn’t. Because she was the truest friend he’d ever had, now and always. And he’d always been too afraid of losing that.
But last night, when she’d kissed his cheek, told him to do whatever he wanted, he had. Because kissing, sex...he’d always wanted that. But love? Yeah, now that he’d actually been inside of her, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore.
And this was the worst fucking time in history to have this realization. It was wrong on so many levels, but he couldn’t exactly un-know it now that he knew it.
He traced the line of her jaw, wrapped a tendril of dark hair around his finger and swept it off her face. She shifted and his heart stopped.
She might freak out when she woke up and remembered that they’d had sex. And she would probably have the right to. Chances were, he was a complete jerk for taking her up on her offer.
Just do what you want.
There had been only one path to take from there. At least for him. He’d known what he wanted. Had known what would help him lose himself, lose the horrible events from last night.
Sydney.
Because being with Sydney would fix everything. He’d always known that. Always believed it.
She moaned and rubbed her arm across her eyes. It was so endearing, it made his chest clench. He was so far gone.
“Morning, Syd,” he said, figuring it was best to prime her with the idea of waking up next to him so that when she opened her eyes he wouldn’t be met with confusion. Or worse, anger.
Her eyes fluttered open. She didn’t look angry. She didn’t look confused or afraid.
“Travis,” she said.
“Hey.”
“It’s morning,” she said.
His eyes felt like they’d been scrubbed with sandpaper. “Yeah.”
“The sun came up.”
“It did.”
She turned her face and buried it in the blankets, her next words muffled. “I guess that means it’s time to go home.”
“I guess so,” he said. Home, to his roommates and school and all the grief that was waiting, was the last place he wanted to go.
He didn’t want any of it. He wanted Sydney, and this world, forever.
But it wasn’t possible.
“I guess I’ll call down and check out.” That seemed so weird and normal. They’d been living in a fantasy, and now the facade was falling away again.
They were just in a normal hotel in the middle of the city. And they were still Sydney and Travis. They weren’t any different than the people they were when they’d walked into the room last night.
Which didn’t make much sense because he felt completely changed.
Sydney sat up, the covers clutched to her chest. “I...can you...I need to get dressed.”
“Sure,” he said, ignoring the pain in his chest, and his own nudity. She might want to play the game. Cover up and pretend he hadn’t seen it all, tasted it all, but he wasn’t going to do that.
He’d give himself that much. Last night
had happened.
He had finally touched her, kissed her, licked her, like he’d always fantasized about. He’d finally been inside of her.
He wasn’t going to pretend that they’d spent the night drinking coffees and playing fucking charades.
They’d made love. He’d watched it in the mirror. Watched her face flush with pleasure as he thrust deep into her tight, wet body.
No, he wasn’t playing the denial game.
He looked back at her and saw that she was still in bed, frozen, covering her breasts and staring at him.
He arched a brow and she looked away. “Just give me a second.”
He sighed and turned his back, listening to the sounds of her scurrying around like a madwoman. Undoubtedly hunting for her clothes.
Then he heard the snick of the bathroom door and he let out a heavy breath and sat on the edge of the bed.
He was still sitting like that when she reemerged in her dress from last night, her high-heeled shoes back on her feet, her face bare of any makeup.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” she asked, blushing and looking away.
He lifted his shoulders. “Sure. Just a second.” He turned and picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. The concierge instructed him to leave his key on the nightstand, and informed him his card would be charged.
Best seven hundred dollars he’d ever spent, that was for damn sure.
Too bad it wasn’t a long-term investment. That much was becoming clear.
And he didn’t want to push.
If she were anyone but Syd, he would tell her. But he was afraid he might lose more than he would gain if he did.
If she were only someone else, he could tell her how he felt. But if she were someone else...he wouldn’t feel it.
He never had. Not for any other woman he’d dated or slept with.
So the entire hypothetical scenario was moot.
“Now I’ll get dressed,” he said, finding his shirt and pants in front of the vanity.
He had a morning hard-on and there was no hiding that. Though, he doubted he could really blame his erection on the time of day. Any time he was with her, naked and with the fresh memory of what it was like to hold her against his body...he was going to be hard.
She was trying not to look while he dressed, but he caught her watching. He was gratified to know that he at least presented a temptation to her.
Though, whether she showed it or not, after last night she could hardly deny feeling an attraction to him. Her body’s reaction to him didn’t lie. The kind of response she’d had to him wasn’t fake.
He’d felt how wet she was for him. Had felt her internal muscles clench tight around him. He knew that, at least for a while, she’d wanted him. Had responded to him.
He finished buckling his belt and turned back to face her. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call my driver.”
* * *
He could tell that Sydney was dreading going inside the dorm. They’d spent three hours in relative silence, and he’d been able to feel her tension increase as they’d drawn closer to the university.
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
She nodded slowly and he could read the gratitude in her eyes. He wanted more than gratitude. But he would give her what she needed right now, no matter what.
They needed each other to get through this. Sarah had been his friend, too, and losing her, especially the way they had, especially having witnessed it, was too much pain to bear by themselves.
He opened the door and got out, then rounded to her side and opened the door for her. He offered her his hand, and she took it. Though, he knew there was an understanding that this was about friends comforting each other. Not lovers seeking physical touch.
They moved through the halls of the building. It was quiet, the mood somber. No one was lingering outside their rooms. It all had a decidedly empty feel to it. Travis imagined that those who had been able to go home to their families had done so. And that everyone else was huddled together somewhere, trying to deal with the loss of a friend.
In her years here, Sarah had been a force, a presence in the school, and she had been well loved. To lose her like this, just as her life away from school was beginning, before she could make that mark they’d all known she was destined to make, was the worst kind of tragedy.
Sydney pulled her keys out of her pocket and put one in the lock to her dorm room, her hands trembling while she turned it. “Okay,” she said. “I guess...” She looked around the room. “I have pictures and things of us...from when we roomed together. I suppose I need to box this stuff up. So that...so that I can send it back to her family.” She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to do it, Travis.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to be here.”
He pulled her in tight and wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he said, stroking her hair, feeling her curves mold to his body.
He was going to hell. For enjoying holding her so much even now. But he couldn’t stop it. Even though he hurt for her, he still wanted her.
He kissed the top of her head, because he couldn’t help himself. Because after crossing the invisible line that had been drawn between them, he couldn’t fully go back.
“Promise me, Syd,” he whispered, “that you’ll never let things get that bad for you. Don’t ever leave me, baby.”
She stiffened, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Done the wrong thing. For her anyway. He’d meant every word of it. So for him it had been the exact right thing to say.
“I won’t.”
“You can talk to me,” he said. “About anything.”
“I know that, Travis, I do.”
But now that the idea had entered his mind, he couldn’t let it go. They’d all known Sarah. Sydney had lived with her. Somehow they’d missed it. Somehow, no one had ever thought things were this bad.
“I love you, Sydney,” he said, the words escaping, suddenly and without his permission. “Fuck.” He tightened his hold on her. “I really love you.”
She pulled away from him. “You what?”
“I love you,” he said. “And I’ve spent a very long time trying to pretend that I don’t. Trying to pretend that I can just be your friend. Hell, I used that friendship to keep myself from ever saying anything because I thought it would be better to have half than nothing. But you’re right.”
“I’m right?” she asked.
“Yes. What if there was only today? If today is all there is, then I need you to know that I love you.”
“Travis...today isn’t all there is. We have...years and years,” she said, her dark eyes wide. “We’re...twenty-two and it’s not...it’s not the right time.”
“Bullshit. If you love someone there isn’t a wrong time.”
“Sure, Trav, maybe if you’re you. Maybe if you were born sucking a silver spoon. But I have to work for what I have and I can’t let myself be distracted.”
He snorted, trying to relieve some of the pressure in his chest. “Distracted? Is that how you see emotions? Is that how you see love? A distraction?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“How can you not know?”
“Because I don’t love you. Not as anything more than a friend.”
“Bullshit,” he repeated as he advanced on her, pulled her back into his arms.
“I’m not in that place in my life. I don’t need a boyfriend and I really don’t need a husband. I need a friend. How dare you take that from me?”
“How dare you act like me loving you is offensive? I have loved you all my life and I have done nothing but give to you. It was never a burden when it got you things. When it helped you get into school.”
“Now who isn’t being fair? As if I didn’t do any of that on my own? I did. And you know it.”
“But you said it yourself. You come from a very particular position in life and moving up from that is hard. You had
help.”
“But I did the work,” she said. “And I need to continue to do that work undistracted.”
He cupped her face and kissed her lips, poured all of his anger out into that one simple point of contact. His anger, his frustration. His love.
Damn he loved her.
Without her, what was the point? Why even breathe? His whole life had made more sense from the moment she’d come into it. Without her? Without even the possibility of her being his...of being his wife—what did anything matter?
He kissed her deeper, harder. She pushed against his chest and he knew he should stop, but just as he was about to, her fingers curled into the lapels on his shirt and held him there. Just as he was about to find his sanity again, his humanity again, she was kissing him back.
He cupped her face and stroked her cheeks, moisture beneath his palms, the evidence of her tears. He opened his eyes, paused just for a moment, and she was the one who leaned back in, who shut her eyes tight and kept kissing him as though he was the source of the air she desperately needed to live. To breathe.
He reached around and tugged the zipper on her dress, and it wouldn’t give more than a couple of inches. “Stupid tiny...” He gripped the sides of the parted fabric and tugged hard, hearing the seams give, the satin tearing.
He pushed the dress down her body, leaving her naked for him, except for the shoes. “No underwear,” he said.
Her face turned pink. “I left it at the hotel. I couldn’t find it.”
“Better for me,” he said.
He worked the buttons on his shirt, whipped it over his head as quickly as possible before walking her back to the wall, pressing her body flush against it.
“You’re so sexy,” he growled against her neck, kissing her, nipping her lightly before soothing away the pain with his tongue. “I’ve never wanted another woman the way I want you. I’ve never loved another woman the way I love you.”
She scrunched her eyes closed and turned her head away.
He gripped her chin, as he’d done in the hotel. “Don’t. Don’t turn away from me. If you want this, you have to watch. You can’t pretend I’m not here. You can’t pretend you don’t want it, that you don’t want me. You can’t pretend it’s another man, or just a vibrator getting you off.”
