by Jillian Dodd
Tonight Ariela is going to be just another sexy piece of ass.
I’ll dance with her, get her drunk, hot, and horny, then I’ll take her home, fuck the shit out of her, and forget about her for once and for all.
Just like all the others.
To all the girls I've fucked before.
That can be my theme song.
Friend’s home - Santa Monica
ARIELA
When I get back from Malibu, my friend is waiting for me in her kitchen.
“So, the kids are in bed and my husband is home. Let’s go to a club.”
“A club?” A club is the last place I want to go. I’m mentally exhausted from seeing Riley.
From being near him.
From kissing him.
“I have a dress you can wear, in case you didn’t bring one. Come on, I haven’t been to a club in ages. And you need to get out there. Speaking of which, how was dinner with your old friends?”
“He was there,” I say quietly, still barely believing it myself.
“Oooh, tell me all the details. I’ll grab a bottle of wine.”
“Uh, no, let’s do the club,” I say. On second thought, clubs are loud and talking is nearly impossible. The last thing I want to do is talk about my night. Drinking sounds like a better idea.
Drinking, dancing, and not thinking.
I shimmy into a spandex dress, throw on a pair of heels, and pretty soon we’re waiting in line.
“I can’t believe we have to wait in line on a Monday night. We look good, right? Like good enough to get in? What do you think of this shirt with this skirt? I picked this shirt since it’s flowy on the bottom and hides my belly. I got my body back right away after my first two, but this third one is killing me.”
“You look great,” I tell her.
“So, tell me about tonight.”
“He was there.”
“Yeah, you said that already. How did he look?”
“He looked good.”
“But you already knew he would, based on the magazine, right?”
“Yeah, but he looked better in person. He’s matured. Filled out in all the right places. And that jawline of scruff. Holy shit.”
“Did you talk?”
“It was kind of a disaster. He walked in, saw me, said What the fuck? to Keatyn, and hid in the kitchen.”
“Oh, that’s not the kind of reaction you want.”
“No, not at all. Keatyn went to talk to him. Then she came out and told me to go talk to him.”
“Awkward, much?”
“Yeah. But we didn’t talk.”
“What did you do?”
“We made out.”
“You, what? How? Why?”
“I don’t know. He said it didn’t mean anything but it did. It was the hottest kiss of my life. He pushed me up against the wet bar, slid his hands up my skirt. I would have done him right then and there.”
“But you’re married.”
“Yeah, I’m married.”
“You going to fix that?”
“Yes. I want a divorce.”
“Based on what you told me about Collin, I would agree with you. And that’s saying a lot. I loved the two of you together in college. I even stood up for you at your wedding.”
“I know.”
“You’re lucky you don’t have kids with him.”
“I didn’t want to get pregnant. He kept pushing for it. He’s been pushing for it since we got married. I mean, sex with him was one thing. A baby, well that’s a lot bigger commitment. I couldn’t risk tying myself to him for the rest of my life in that way.”
“So, you’ve known for a while?”
“I knew at my wedding, Sarah.”
“What?!”
“It’s true. I told my dad I didn’t want to marry Collin. Well, that’s not right. I told him I didn’t love Collin the way I loved Riley.”
“What did he say?”
“That I was being ridiculous. That it was just cold feet. That we’d been together for so long. That the family loved him. All very logical things.”
“I was your maid of honor. You should have told me.”
“I know. It’s really not Collin’s fault our marriage is failing. It’s mostly mine. I never loved him the way I should have.”
An hour later, we’re finally in the packed club. We immediately head to the bar and order a round of shots.
“Tonight we forget about our lives for a few hours and just dance,” Sarah says, clinking her shot glass into mine. “Let’s get out there!”
We work our way out to the crowded dance floor and it’s not long before a cute guy is dancing with me.
His hands are touching my ass and I don’t care.
It’s just dancing.
It’s fun.
The place is full of energy and I feel alive.
The guy yells into my ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”
I’m about to say yes, when I see quick movement out of the corner of my eye.
It’s Riley.
He grabs the guy and tells him to get off me. The guy is coming back, ready to punch him, but Riley raises a finger in the air and bouncers collect my former dance partner and escort him off the dance floor.
It’s really kinda hot.
But then he wraps me in his arms like he used to and kisses the top of my head. It’s a sweet gesture.
One that makes me want to start crying.
But then he gives me a naughty smirk and puts his hands all over my ass. I do the same while pulling him into my body and grinding against his leg. I’m trying like hell to grind against his dick and make him hard like he was when we kissed earlier tonight.
He smells like expensive cologne and alcohol.
And this reminds me of nights spent dancing after curfew.
We dance the night away. Although, I’m not sure this should be categorized as dancing.
It’s more like foreplay set to music.
I’m all worked up, barely able to control how much I want him.
This so wasn’t my plan.
I was going to talk to him first.
See if we could become friends again.
Then, maybe, we could be something more.
When he squeezes my ass, I care less about my plan.
I just want him.
I move my lips toward his and he full on attacks my mouth.
Grabs my neck and forces me to keep kissing him.
Like I’d ever try to stop.
Our kisses are ravenous, hungry. I’ve been starving for him all this time.
“I’m taking you home with me now,” he commands.
And I don’t dare say a word, for fear he might change his mind.
I just nod yes.
He grabs my friend, hands her off to Knox—as in the hot movie star, Knox freaking Daniels—and tells him to make sure she gets home safely. Then he wraps his arm around my waist and staggers out to the valet.
“Are you drunk?”
“Just a little,” he says. He used to say the same thing when I’d ask him if he loved me. He’d give me that handsome smile and say, Just a little even though he meant a lot.
“I’m driving then.”
“Whatever, as long as we get there,” he says, as a sleek black luxury sedan pulls in front of us.
He tips the valet a hundred and tells him I’m driving.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson. Good to see you again.”
Riley slides in the passenger seat, presses the home button on the GPS, and says, “She’ll tell you where to go. I’ll be too busy.”
“Too busy doing what?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot.
“This,” he says, sliding his hand between my legs.
I know I should stop him. I know that this is cheating on my husband. And I’m not a cheater. I’ve never cheated on anyone. But I can’t for the life of me bring myself to stop him. Not when I’ve wanted and dreamed about this for so long.
He kisses my neck, which makes
it difficult for me to concentrate on the road.
And it becomes even harder when he slides my thong over and roughly shoves his finger inside of me.
“Oh!” I say, startled by the suddenness of it.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I moan. His long fingers have always felt like they were made just for me.
And they have become even more masterful. I’m groaning with pleasure and am close to orgasm when the navigation tells me we’ve reached our destination.
A valet opens my door.
Riley is already next to me, his arm wrapped around me, his lips on my neck, leading me through a pair of massive glass doors.
“Looks like it’s going to be a good evening, Mr. Johnson,” the doorman says.
Riley ignores him, pulling me down a hall, and then sliding a key into an elevator set off to the side.
He pulls me inside, kissing me and shoving me hard against the wall.
“I can’t wait to fuck you, kitty,” he says, calling me by the nickname he gave me in high school.
I melt into his arms and kiss him with voracity.
“I want the same thing,” I say as his tongue forces its way into my mouth.
One hand moves to cup and squeeze my breast, the other slides under my ass, and I know exactly what he wants. I jump up and wrap my legs around his torso.
“I want you right here,” he says, pushing my dress up and ripping off my thong while I’m unzipping his pants.
The elevator dings.
“Don’t move,” he says, putting his arms under me and carrying me through the door while we’re still hooked together and ravenously kissing.
He lays me down on the closest surface. A couch, I think.
I’m shoving my hand down his pants, eager to free him and have him inside me, when I hear a loud squeaky voice yell, “Riley!”
We stop and turn toward the noise.
I see a pretty blonde with huge boobs, barely held in place by a couple skimpy pieces of leather.
“Shelby, what the hell are you doing here?” Riley asks, quickly standing up. “How did you get in?”
I pull my dress down over my exposed crotch as she pouts, “I’m surprising you.”
Riley narrows his eyes and stalks toward her. “I asked how did you get in?”
“The doorman let me up. He’s seen me here, a lot,” she stresses, looking directly at me.
“Um, I’m just gonna go,” I say, defeatedly. “I’ll let you two figure this out.”
“Don’t you go anywhere,” Riley says to me in a tone that sounds a lot like Collin’s.
“I don’t mind,” the blond coos. “She can join in our fun too.”
I’m horrified by her words.
I could never share Riley.
He grabs her by the arm and escorts her to the elevator.
“I have to get my stuff!” she protests. “I can’t drive home like this!”
When he takes her into the bedroom, I see my chance. I hit the button on the elevator and get the hell out of here.
I run out of the elevator in tears and slam into the doorman.
“Oh, my,” he says. “You no like three people?”
“No, I don’t,” I say, pushing past him and out the front door.
It’s at that moment I realize I don’t have a car.
So I take my heels off and run down the sidewalk. Far away from the boy who still holds my heart captive.
Riley’s Penthouse - L.A.
RILEY
I hear the elevator ding, meaning Ariela left.
I hold my head in my hands wondering what the fuck just happened.
Shelby tries to make it better by kissing me. But as soon as she gets close, I back away, touching my lips. The lips Ariela’s mouth was just on.
I don’t say anything, just glance at the floor. I’m so pissed and so full of adrenaline, I’m worried I might accidentally kill this girl.
I’m shocked when she immediately drops to her knees and takes my cock into her eager little mouth.
And, yeah, I let her.
So what?
I’m drunk.
When she’s done, I politely take her down the elevator, tip the valet when he brings her car, and as I’m closing her door, I say sternly, “Don’t you ever fucking come back.”
Then I march into the lobby and grab the doorman by his shirt. “Don’t you EVER fucking let ANYONE in my home without my permission. I could have you fired for this and, quite frankly, I should.”
“Please, no, Mr. Johnson. I see the girl with you before and she said she was going to surprise you. I was trying to help.”
“Don’t EVER LET ANYONE IN MY HOME AGAIN. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”
I go back to my apartment, strip off my clothes, stagger to the shower, and try to wash off the slimy way I feel.
I lie down in my bed and consider calling Ariela.
I remember all those nights we would talk from curfew until we knew it was safe to sneak out and be in each other’s arms again.
What the fuck do I have to lose?
I pull up her contact, which I may have stolen from Keatyn’s phone earlier.
So sue me.
I’m surprised when she answers with a pissed off sounding, “Hello?”
“Did you get home okay?” I ask her, worried about her taking off in the middle of the night.
“Yeah, I got a cab, Riley.”
“You left. Why did you leave?” I know I’m sounding drunk and whiny, but I don’t care. I have to know. Not about tonight, but me back then.
“Because there was a girl in your bed.”
“She wasn’t in my bed. And I don’t want her.”
“Never mind, Riley,” she says in her pissy tone. It’s sad that I still remember every pitch of her voice. “You're single and you clearly love it.”
This pisses me off.
“I’m single, Ariela, because you didn't marry me. And, once again, you just left with no fucking explanation. So why don't you go the fuck back to wherever you came from and go fuck your husband. I don't want you in my life. Do you understand me? Stay the fuck away from me and my friends.”
I hang up the phone and cry in a way I haven’t done since my senior graduation.
Tuesday, September 30th
Keatyn & Aiden’s beach house - Malibu
KEATYN
I wake up feeling refreshed, but notice it’s still dark. A glance at the clock tells me I haven’t slept for all that long. It’s only three o’clock.
I snuggle my chest into Aiden’s back, wrap my arms around him, and try to go back to sleep.
Except, I can’t.
Because in trying to put myself back to sleep, I decide to gently rub his chest.
But rubbing his chest leads to me rubbing his abs, which draws my hand across his v-line and, well, we all know where that leads.
I tell myself that I’m just being nice. Giving him a massage. But, really, I’m only massaging one part of him.
His dick springs to life before he does.
I can’t believe I’m molesting him in the middle of the night. We had sex before we went to sleep.
Although that doesn’t stop me. Especially when he makes a sexy little moan.
I kiss his neck and rub my boobs against his back in further effort to wake him up.
His hand slides down over mine, which is still enjoying the instant gratification of being able to make him go from limp to “beast” mode, as he calls it, in a matter of seconds.
“Are you attacking me in my sleep?” he asks groggily, teasing me, but at the same time, pressing his hand down on mine, so I’ll keep rubbing.
“I am.”
He rolls over and kisses me. “Good. I need you. It’s been forever.”
“It’s been four hours.”
“It feels like forever,” he says, moving his mouth down my chest.
“Ouch, that hurts. Kinda.” This causes him to immediatel
y stop sucking on my nipple and look at me. “But don’t stop!”
“It hurts, but don’t stop?”
“Um, yeah, I think so. My boobs are sore, but it sorta feels really good.”
He puts his hand over one of my boobs and gives it a little squeeze. “They’re bigger. I like.”
He continues kissing me.
He’s being super sweet, loving, and taking his time.
Aiden is good at foreplay.
He’s kissing me, caressing me, teasing me.
Usually, I love it, but it’s not what I want.
“Aiden, baby, fuck me. Now. Please.”
“I love it when you say that,” he says, quickly moving on top of me and doing what I asked.
And it feels so good.
Like something I just had to have at that moment.
It’s perfect.
Sex with Aiden, I can honestly say, in the many years we’ve been doing it, is amazing, exciting, fun, spontaneous, sensual. His appetite for sex is voracious and I’m very happy about it.
Except right now, it’s over.
And I’m okay with that. Because all I can think about now are waffles.
“Boots, you can wake me up like that anytime you want.”
“I’m not sure I like being pregnant,” I say, honestly.
He snuggles me into his arms and caresses my still flat belly. “Why’s that? I’m loving it. You’re super horny. Your boobs look amazing. Hell, you look amazing. I finally understand why they say pregnant women glow. You glow.”
“I think it’s you who’s been glowing. You’re quite proud of yourself for knocking me up.”
I can see his smile in the dark.
He is very proud. And dying to tell the world.
“I’m thrilled to be having a baby with you.”
“Does that mean you’d also be thrilled to eat waffles with me? Right now.”
“You want waffles, right now?”
“Yes, and we may have to fly to St. Croix to get them. Because I don’t want just any waffles. I want Inga’s cinnamon waffles drizzled in her homemade pecan caramel sauce with a side of her spicy fried potatoes.”
“That’s going to be kind of hard to do since you have a busy day today. How about we make them ourselves?”
