by Lea Coll
He followed me into the kitchen and I felt his gaze on my back as I finished placing our dishes into the dishwasher. If I was going to tell him about my feelings I needed to tell him more about me, my life, and my family. He needed to understand me before he made a decision about us and our next step. If there would be one.
When I was done, he asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Everything.” Then I took a deep steadying breath. “Let’s go back into the sunroom.”
We settled onto my couch. I tucked my legs under me and Sawyer leaned back, his arm along the back of the couch as he waited for me to begin. “I told you my parents weren’t there for me, but what I haven’t told you is that my mom is depressed and doesn’t leave her room. It started in middle school and got progressively worse.” He remained quiet as if he felt my need to get it all out at once. “My dad avoided the house when she had her episodes and my sister took it as a sign she could run around and do whatever she wanted.”
“So everything fell to you.”
Relieved he understood, I took a deep breath. I wanted him to understand how important it was that I told him. I wanted him to know everything about me. “You have no idea. I made dinner, cleaned the house, forged her signature on school report cards, lied for her, covered for her.” I sighed “I only told Ashley a few weeks ago.”
He raised his brows. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”
Did I trust him? Is that why I felt this overwhelming urge to tell him about my past and my feelings?
“Then we started hanging out.” Oh God, was I making a mistake? Was he not ready to hear this? Was I ruining everything? “And you asked me to pretend we were dating and somewhere along the way it became real for me.”
I was afraid to look at him. I wasn’t ready to see his reaction yet. I couldn’t handle it if it was pity. Or if he only saw me as a friend or as a means to obtain tenure. I kept my eyes trained on the floor in front us.
“What are you saying?” He shifted closer to me on the couch.
“I like you,” I whispered. Then my voice getting stronger, I finally looked at him. “It’s slowly killing me to pretend with you. I want more. I want you.”
“Are you sure?” His voice was hesitant as if he didn’t trust my words.
I nodded. He was quiet for a moment and then he moved toward me, a hand in my hair, lips on mine, slowly exploring. It was like our other kisses weren’t real. This was our first kiss, every sensation heightened, more meaningful. A gentle hand pushed me back until I was laying on the couch and he settled on top of me. As he placed gentle kisses down my neck I reveled in the feel of his weight on me. I widened my legs for him to settle between them, my dress riding up on my hips. My hands went to his head pulling him back, my eyes frantically searching his face, “Do you feel the same way?”
“What do you think?” His head ducked to claim my mouth again.
I wasn’t sure how I ever thought he was shy. This was a guy who knew what he wanted and went after it. And right now, he wanted me. I hoped it was for more than just this moment, but I would take what I could get.
“Finally,” he murmured against my lips, his erection pressed into my core, causing me to writhe against him. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you speak in front of the student paper—so hot.”
“That long?” I asked between kisses. One of his roaming hands snuck under my dress and cupped my lace-covered breast, pulling a moan from me. The thought that he’d been as into me as I was into him made me desperate to get closer, to feel his naked body against mine.
He pressed kisses down my face and neck until he reached the sensitive area on my neck and I moved to give him more access. He paused and said, “Yes,” before he continued placing light kisses on my neck and I arched him into him.
“Good to know.” I wanted to know why he hadn’t said anything, but my hands had unfettered access to his chest and stomach, so I allowed them to roam under his shirt. “I don’t think you’re as shy as you let on.”
“Who told you I was shy?” He smirked and then concentrated his attention on my breasts, pulling the lace cups of my bra down.
I was lost in the onslaught of sensation—the feel of his cock heavy on my inner thigh, his mouth sucking on one nipple and then the other. Then his fingers slipped under my lace panties, gathering the wetness, circling my clit. Finally, one finger slipped inside. I moaned. “Sawyer!”
“What?”
But I couldn’t answer. I concentrated on the quickly building orgasm inside me. I’d never gotten this hot for a guy so fast. And it had been so long since I’d done this with anyone.
“Come for me.” His voice was rough and gravelly with desire. “Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” I quipped, before closing my eyes to revel in the feeling of Sawyer on top of me, two fingers curling inside me as the heel of his hand rubbed my clit. I cried out as the orgasm crashed over me, my body pulsing, trembling in aftershocks. Sawyer brought me back to the present, kissing me.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” he said softly.
Opening my eyes, he’d shifted off of me, pulling me up with him, and onto my knees.
I reached for the button of his pants, raising my brow in question at him.
“Are you sure?” Sawyer asked.
After what happened on the couch I was more than ready. I stood, holding my hand out, “I want you inside me.”
When he grasped my hand, relief coursed through me and I led him down the hall to my bedroom. When I got to the end of my bed, I spun, dropping his hand, to lift my dress over my head, leaving me in my slightly askew lace bra and panty set.
Sawyer stood in front of me, his eyes taking everything in, as I slowly reached behind me to unclip my bra and let it fall down my arms to the floor. The cool air hit my nipples drawing Sawyer’s eyes. My thumbs hooked into my panties as I slowly maneuvered them down my legs and kicked them away.
I was a little self-conscious since I knew I wasn’t petite, but I didn’t see any disgust in his eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful. Every inch of you.” His hands came to my shoulders and I slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
His words gave me confidence. “Now your turn,” I said huskily.
His mouth crashed down on mine, harder and more desperate this time. I loved that I had this effect on him, making the usually stoic Sawyer lose control.
When I released the last button, I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, then moved to the zipper of his pants. The sound of the zipper lowering and the harsh intake of our breaths were loud to my ears. When his pants and briefs dropped to the ground, he stepped out of them, kicking off his shoes. I fisted his cock and his breath caught. I loved the effect I had on him as I slowly lowered myself to my knees.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
He stopped speaking when I licked the head of his cock, and then let my tongue stroke up and down the shaft. When I finally sucked him into my mouth, he groaned. “Fuck, Stella.”
I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him hard. I wanted him to come in my mouth. But to my surprise, his hands were on my shoulders pulling me up. “Not yet. I want all of you.” He gave me a soft shove and I fell back onto my bed. “Scoot up.”
I hesitated. I didn’t think I’d ever had a guy stop me from giving him a blow job before. They usually took what I offered. I didn’t like to think about the fact that it wasn’t always reciprocated.
“Stella, now,” he gently prodded, pulling me from my thoughts.
His soft command caused heat to pool in my core again as I scrambled to get into place. His knee on the bed caused the mattress to dip as he slowly crawled over me, hovering over me, kissing me. I arched into him, searching for contact, but he held his cock away from me, as he slowly kissed me.
“Sawyer,” I whined, more and more desperate for the feel of him naked on top of me. “Please.” He finally lowered himself so that his cock was teasing my core unt
il I was chanting, “Please, please, please.”
He cupped my breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth. He was slowly driving me insane.
“Sawyer, I need you inside me, now.”
He chuckled. “So demanding.”
Only with him. He was the only one who ever drove me this crazy with need. Baring my soul to him about my family and my trust issues had left me raw, emotional. His sweet words and understanding made me want him with a determination I’d never felt before. This was more than lust or desire. I wanted this man inside me, under my skin, a part of me. Which scared me a little because I’d never let anyone in before. Not all the way.
He eased up to grab a condom out of his wallet on the floor. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he slowly pumped his cock before sheathing it. Then he braced his forearms on either side of my head. “Stella, are you sure?”
“Yes.” Never been surer of anything.
He thrust inside me with one movement, causing me to gasp. I thought he’d ease in, but he kept surprising me.
“Yes, yes, harder.”
He set a quick pace using long strokes, my hands roaming his hips, and then I squeezed his ass, pulling him tighter to me.
I tilted my hips and the angle caused the feeling to build inside me again. Then he lifted up, sitting back on his heels, and pulled me closer to him, covering my clit with the pad of his thumb. All of my muscles tightened before my hips arched up and I was falling over the edge again. He rode through my tremors until he roared his release. He rested on me for a moment, chest to chest, so I could feel his heart beating fast, his quick breaths of air on my neck as he came down from his release. My hand went to his head, feeling the softness of his hair at his neck, his skin warm. This was more than I hoped for when I decided to tell him how I felt, but insecurity was bubbling to the surface. Was it too much too soon?
He lifted up, his hands on either side of my shoulders, his mouth hovered over mine. “That was—”
“Intense?” My desire to have him inside me and under my skin scared me. Was I ready to let someone in finally? Had I made a mistake in opening the door for Sawyer?
He kissed me. Then looked into my eyes where I thought I saw a little awe for what we’d just done. “It was.” He lifted off my body completely, taking off the condom, and went into the bathroom to dispose of it.
He emerged with a sexy grin on his face. He settled next to me, pulling me over his chest, rubbing my back. “I didn’t expect that to happen tonight.”
“Neither did I.” But did he regret it? My head rested on his shoulder, so I tipped it back to see his face, but his eyes were already closed and he was drifting off to sleep. I tried to be satisfied with the fact he’d stayed in my bed instead of leaving after we’d been so intimate. But my mind raced with all of the possibilities. That he’d want nothing to do with me after this. That it would ruin our friendship. Could I trust him, not only with my body but my heart?
“STELLA,” A LOW VOICE WHISPERED over my ear. Then kisses started down my neck and shoulder and I arched back into a very warm and hard naked body. His hand caressed my shoulder, arm, down to my hip and when my ass made contact with his cock, he lifted my leg a little so he could rub along my slit.
My brain was still fuzzy but my body was quickly catching up. I felt my wetness lubricating his cock and I arched my ass in a silent invitation to enter me, but awareness came crashing into me. “Condom,” I insisted. I’d been cheated on so many times I never went without.
He pulled away from me and I turned to see him rifling through his wallet for one. Sliding the condom down his cock, he moved behind me, cupping my breast.
“Hurry.”
“You’re so impatient.” Then the scruff on his face scraped my shoulder sending a shiver through me. He tweaked my nipple as he drove into me. He couldn’t still be caught up in the moment after last night. This was real. He slowly pumped into me, his hand alternating between my nipple and my clit until I was squirming.
“Touch yourself.”
His quiet command was so hot, my hand drifted down my stomach rubbing myself, feeling his cock sliding into me.
“That’s so fucking hot.”
Between him watching my fingers and him playing with my nipples, I orgasmed within seconds. He pushed me farther onto my side and lowered my leg, allowing his hand to roam my body, slowly working me up again. “You’re so tight in this position.”
I gasped because the angle was hitting my g-spot. Everything was more intense this morning and I wanted to draw it out as I tried to fight the larger orgasm building. He pumped hard a few times, his body tense, his fingers tight on my hips, and I cried out knowing I couldn’t last any longer. We both came at the same time with my heart beating like crazy inside my chest.
“Never been like that before.” Sawyer kissed my shoulder before pulling out.
“Yeah, no kidding.” After we’d each taken a moment in the bathroom to clean up, I wanted to crawl back into bed and have a lazy morning with him.
“I have to get ready for work,” he said, regret evident on his face.
I glanced at my alarm clock, which read seven. “I know. I do too.” I pulled a T-shirt over my head.
He quickly threw on his clothes, which were still strewn all about the room. Then he stopped in front of me, placed his hands on my shoulders. “Thank you for dinner.”
I smiled. “And everything else.”
He smiled. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sure.”
He kissed me softly and left. Once he was gone and I was alone in my bedroom, the sheets pushed to the bottom of the bed and onto the floor, I was able think clearly for the first time since the night before. With a sinking feeling, I realized he hadn’t exactly responded to my declaration that I wanted him. He hadn’t said he liked me. Instead, he’d made a physical move. What did it mean for him? Was sex all he wanted? He’d said I was hot. Did we go from fake relationship to friends with benefits?
Checking my phone, which was still in the kitchen, I noticed several messages from my dad wanting to touch base. I’d avoided him for as long as I could. I texted.
Stella: Do you have time this afternoon to meet?
Not waiting for a response, I took a shower and got dressed for work. I grabbed a granola bar and a banana for breakfast. Dread curled in my stomach when the text message sounded: Dad: Come over at 2.
The last thing I wanted to do was be in my parents’ home. Once I crossed that threshold I fell into my old role—the one where everyone depended on me to hold the family together. My dad would guilt me into doing more to help out my mom, which was enabling her to continue like she was. I’d need to stay strong and not get sucked back into it.
When I arrived at work, Bob was waiting for me by my cubicle. “Good morning,” I chirped.
He held up what looked like my proposed article for the garden tour this past weekend. “Stella, we need something more than coverage of farmers’ markets, gardening tours, and festivals. We need something to get people reading again.”
I sat in my seat and pulled up to my computer. This was an ongoing conversation we had. “That’s what I’ve been doing with the online media. I keep the topics trendy and current—”
“I hardly think online dating is newsworthy.” He slapped my work on my desk. “Get something. Hang out at the college. Get something juicier.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask why he didn’t drum up something more interesting, but I didn’t. I liked my job when he wasn’t pressuring me. “You know, this is a small town. Not much happens here. It’s not like I can drum up a murder.”
He was silent, studying me. “We need more readership. Drama creates interest. Is there a Me Too movement at Washington College? Are sexual assaults on the rise? Hazing at the frats? Are people bribing officials and coaches to get into the school?”
“Got it,” I finally said, because what else was there to say? He was my boss and I needed to placate him until he g
ot over whatever mood he was in this morning. I picked up my bag again. “I will hang out at the college and see what I can find.” Although I highly doubted anyone was bribing anyone to go to a liberal arts college in Chestertown.
“Good.” Then he was gone.
I sighed. Yeah, readership was down, but that was true for every paper, especially in small towns. That’s why I focused on the online portion and worked on driving younger people there. Not that he appreciated or even understood the importance of that.
At least I would get to work outside today instead of in the office. I walked to the campus and wandered around the quad and the student center, sipping coffee and hoping I’d overhear something I could use. I finally settled into an overstuffed chair in front of a large window overlooking the quad and pulled out my laptop. I tried to focus on work, but a raised voice caught my attention.
“I heard girls in the Zeta house have a bet going to see who could bang a professor,” a girl said.
My fingers hovered over my keyboard as I waited to hear who they were talking about.
“Why would a professor even bother when they could get fired for hooking up with a student?” another girl asked.
I closed my eyes. This was my constant worry with a guy like Sawyer. They are surrounded by temptation every day and by women who think it’s a challenge to get them into bed.
I could hear the excitement in her voice as she delivered the gossip. Is this the kind of salacious article Bob wanted me to get? Some stupid sex bet at the sorority house? If a professor was involved he would be interested because the professor’s job was on the line and it called into question the Me Too movement and the rise of sexual assaults on campus. It was everything Bob mentioned this morning, but it wasn’t the kind of story I was interested in.
“I don’t know. Are there any hot professors? Because there aren’t any in the biology department.” The group broke out in giggles.
When the laughter died down, the first girl answered, “It’s the history professors they’re after.”
