by K B Cinder
Song by song, we kept up the relentless rhythm, a perfect fit to one another. As the songs slipped into the sexier side, our bodies moved closer, his hips rolling against mine to fan flames neither of us would be able to control after long. It felt like a fairytale, the dream I’d had for so long finally coming true.
Just as soon as it had started, the seductive music was doused with a slow dance, not that it cooled any of our heat, his arms wrapping around me as he pulled me close, our mouths a heartbeat apart as we swayed back and forth. I could’ve stayed there forever in his arms, locking eyes with the man I adored, the best friend I wanted in so many ways.
And the moment his lips touched mine, all bets were off, the inferno that had been building all night engulfing us both.
Ethan
If I wasn’t such a fucking idiot, I would’ve said no to dancing with Kee. In fact, I wouldn’t have laid a hand on her to begin with, even if it’d started with something as innocent as her arm in mine.
But no, not only had I danced with her, I ground against her like an animal on the dance floor, letting her know just how much I wanted her. And as if that wasn’t enough, I topped off the pile of poor decisions by not just kissing her - but devouring her.
It was so right that it hurt. Her in my arms. The warmth in my chest. How she tasted. The soft sighs between kisses. It was everything I feared would happen and more.
It was also precisely why we had to leave, the woman of my dreams desperately trying to keep up on my arm as we hurried to the T. I faked a headache to get out of small talk, and luckily after the long night, she wasn’t so chatty anyway.
And as we stepped into her apartment, I knew exactly what I had to do, the only thing that would protect us both. I waited in the living room while she changed and tucked her in once she was ready, the queen-sized platform bed nestled between two walls.
Her newly-freed curls blew in the breeze of the rickety window air conditioner above, her eyes more closed than open as the excitement of the night caught up to her. “Thank you for taking me tonight, Eth,” she murmured, voice beginning to grow foggy with sleep.
“I’m glad you came.” I meant every word despite the boulder looming overhead. The one that would crush me alive once I walked out her front door. “Get some sleep. It’s getting late.”
The alarm clock on her dresser read 1:00 AM, but knowing Kee, I wasn’t entirely sure it was right. Her microwave had the wrong time listed for as long as we’d known one another.
“I want you to touch me,” she breathed, fingers rubbing lazy circles along my arm, her eyes holding mine hostage. Every inch of me tuned in to her words, cock rising to meet the challenge. She noticed too, her hand sliding to grab me through my pants, fingers snaking around the shaft. “Please.”
It took everything in me to keep from coming right there, her fingers feeling like heaven wrapped around me. A simple touch reduced years of sexual bravado to that of an inexperienced youth, back when wet dreams and class woodies dominated my days.
At the same time, I came face to face with the inevitable, whispers of tomorrow tickling my ear. It was my last time in her apartment. My last time seeing her. It didn’t matter anymore. I’d already broken the rules. I might as well enjoy it.
So I did.
I stroked her cheek, her face leaning in to my touch. I skimmed my hand down her neck, her body stiffening as it fanned across her chest, the thin tank top doing little to shield the stiff peaks of her nipples. I stroked each, both of us watching my hand caress them before falling to the hem, hiking the shirt over her head with one quick tug.
There sat my world, topless and entranced, her pouty lips parted as she stared up at me with eyes blazing, the sleepiness gone in a flash. I skimmed a hand down her body, fingers tickling over her ribs, dipping across the narrow curve of her side to hook a thumb in the waistband of her shorts. Another quick tug sent them flying over my shoulder, a tiny triangle of lace the only thing standing between me and paradise. One more pull left them at the base of the bed, leaving Kee naked and ready for the taking.
I brushed her hand away from my cock, unhooking my belt and pulling my fly down to send it springing forth. Her eyes popped wide, her mouth forming an adorable little O before I put a knee up on the bed, clutching her curls to force her mouth on my cock.
She was an eager little thing, greedily taking what she could, not voicing a hint of displeasure as I gripped her hair and thrust forward. Instead, she moaned, the vibration almost too much to take.
I flipped her back on the bed in response, spreading her legs wide before devouring her, lavishing her most tender of places with my tongue. She cried out, but I hauled her hips high, relentlessly taking what was mine with my fingers and tongue. It didn’t matter which, each touch making her legs tremble.
She came fast and hard, a strangled cry unleashing hell within me. I dropped her to the bed while she was still shaking, sitting on the side of the bed to conquer heaven. I lifted her as if she were nothing to sit on my lap, feet still planted firmly on the floor. I faced her away from me, which earned a whimper of protest, a whimper that turned into a moan as I slammed my cock inside.
Her legs dangled over mine as I drove in, the scant inches between the bed and the wall allowing me to shove her face-first against it, her entire front pressed against the cool plaster as I took what was mine.
It was raw. It was primal. It was nothing like what I’d fantasized about. Nothing like what I’d wanted. But it was everything I needed. What we needed.
I couldn’t make love to her. Not only would she know that it was something more than just sex, but I’d allow myself to let her in more, and that wasn’t an option.
It was a hate-fuck, pure and simple. Not between her and I, but between my lives, this beautiful soul trapped between them.
My fingers dug into her hips as I lifted and slammed her back down, each movement meeting mine, the slapping of our skin and moans almost blocking out the screams of my psyche. She tried to reach behind to brace herself on the mattress, but with each hard drive she toppled forward, her hands the only thing keeping her face from striking the wall.
I wanted to flip her around to suck her tits, to shower her body with the love it deserved, but I couldn’t. I was blind with passion and rage, the two battling as I forced her to take every inch until the buildup began, the twisting low in my stomach signaling the end was near.
I fished a hand in front of her, sliding between the legs I’d dreamed of being wrapped around my waist, fingers rubbing just where she needed me, moans of pleasure replacing the sharp breaths and whimpers. Her breathing quickened then, her body tensing as I slowed my strides, giving her exactly what she needed to make it there, her body unraveling once she did, a flood of moans pouring out. “Oh, Ethan! Fuck!” she shrieked, muscles spasming as she came.
It was the most beautiful sight I’d seen to date, the woman I loved slick with sweat and rolling her hips to take all of me. An image I reminded myself I needed to forget as I flipped her over, cock still wedged tight within. I hauled her toward the foot of the bed, now freed of the tight confines the walls on either side of the bed presented.
With her face pressed into the blankets, I finished the deed, fucking her so hard she was screaming, another orgasm ripping through her. The cloth muffled her cries, but not mine, a deep groan escaping as I met her over the edge, filling her with everything I had.
As soon as I did, I pushed her forward, shoving my still-slick cock in my pants while she hurried to pull blankets over herself, sudden modesty washing over the woman I’d just fucked and bared to the world, every bit of her exposed. Every inch I’d fantasized about for years.
“Are you staying the night?” she asked quietly as I fussed with my belt.
I pulled the comforter higher on her chest, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear as I swallowed the answer I truly wanted to give. “No, I have to go. I’ll let myself out and lock the deadbolt.” I’d promptly stick my key to her apartm
ent in the safe at home, too.
“Can we get breakfast together in the morning?” Her eyes locked with mine, pleading.
My stomach turned just looking at her, sure I was going to be sick. “I can’t. I have to take care of some things.”
“Don’t leave me,” she croaked, the hazel pools brimming with tears.
She knew.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead, the finality of the gesture striking my core. “I have to.”
* * *
The worst thing about living in Boston was that unlike New York, it actually slept. The T stopped around 12:30 AM, which meant if you were out past then, you had to hoof it, drive, or call a cab.
I chose to walk, hoping the five-mile trek from Dorchester to Seaport was enough to burn off steam. It probably wasn’t the best idea, a guy in an expensive suit a nice mark to rob, but I only encountered stray cats and a drunk pissing in an alley on the journey.
But the long trek proved useless for clearing my mind, constant thoughts of Kee lying there alone in bed lingering.
I punched in the code to my floor as I reached my building’s elevator, stripping off my tie and jacket as soon as the doors closed. The fresco wool smelled like sugar, Kee’s perfume tagging along for the ride. It was a punch to the gut, sending me straight to the bar as soon as I walked in my front door.
I grabbed a bottle of Scotch that was older than me, the drink reserved for times of need. And it definitely was one.
The first swig went down with an angry burn, doing nothing to stop the churning in my guts. Nothing to numb the nerves. Nothing to shut off my mind, the images of the night replaying on loop.
My phone jingled a moment later.
Kee: Hope you made it home safe. Thanks again for a great time XOXO
I stared at the text for a long moment before throwing the phone across the room, the sound of the device’s screen shattering distinct.
I’d carefully painted a reality over the years, only to destroy it with one stupid mistake. I’d blurred the lines just enough for truth to poke through, allowing a burst of genuine feeling to sneak in behind it.
The laughs. The words. Kee saw me. No smoke. No mirrors. And fuck. That spark I felt, it was as genuine as it got, and damn if she didn’t feel it, too.
I tossed back the next gulp to stop it, another to forget it, then a final one to rinse away any aftertaste before heading to the master bath, pulling off clothing as if it burned me, the sugary sweet perfume everywhere even as I stood naked under the heavy spray, a dozen shower heads not even blasting it away.
With it came the sensation of her arms around me, every curve of that perfect body pressed tight against mine as our mouths moved in sync on the dance floor. The memory of her riding me setting me on fire all over again.
I gripped my cock, wanting nothing more than to make her mine again. I had the world at my fingertips, but the one thing I wanted most was entirely off-limits.
I worked my length, picking up the pace as I thought of her kneeling before me, looking up with those eyes wide, those full lips parted ready to take my cock again.
I pumped the thought out of my mind, cock rigid and ready. With a few more strokes I was there, coming hard and fast across the glass wall of the shower.
As the last tremors shook through my body, my mind wandered back to the woman I loved. The woman I needed to forget.
Keely
Mom: Dinner will be late tonight. Be here at 8.
I glanced at the text, already on the train bound for Braintree. It was odd she bothered to reach out since most of the time we didn’t eat until almost nine anyway. She existed on Marjorie time as Dad called it.
I tucked my cell back into my handbag, unfazed at spending extra time with my family. I needed time away from the apartment.
The next stop brought a seat mate, a sweaty gym rat gracing us all with his oh-so-sticky presence. Perspiration poured from every exposed inch of flesh, his dropped armhole tank showing more wet side-pec than I ever cared to see. Worse, as the train rolled forward, the stench of body odor wafted over. To up the ante, he started fist-pumping to his headphones, airing his pits to the world.
Only six more stops.
What was the record for the longest time a woman held her breath? Maybe I could beat it with his help.
I took a deep inhale before closing my eyes, lungs betraying me after only thirty-seconds. I sucked in a cloud of his funk as a result, catapulting myself back to a sixth-grade locker room. Only now I had the distinct displeasure of tasting it, too.
I stared at my bag, hoping to feel the buzz of a notification. Homework kept me busy most of the day, but with my mind free, I was all too aware that Ethan had yet to reach out.
We hadn’t discussed what our night was, but it sure felt like a date. So did his hands on my body, the ever-present hardness pressed against me on the dance floor. Oh yeah, and the epic sex thing.
But I wasn’t ready to have that conversation. Not yet. I’d let him reach out first. I couldn’t seem needy. I was mature. I could handle it.
Unlike the stench of my seat mate.
The next twenty-five minutes dragged, and unfortunately for me, stinky stayed planted in his seat, departing with me at Braintree before jogging off in the opposite direction toward a shopping plaza. One would hope he was going to pick up some dang deodorant.
The few blocks from the station to my parents’ colonial offered plenty of fresh air. I’d walked the route for years, passing the same well-manicured lawns of stately homes, some locked away in wrought iron prisons while others were more welcoming with billowing flowerbeds and friendly porch swings.
As I rounded the sidewalk to my parents’ home, I was greeted with the familiar sight of the pristine white siding, its black shutters sporting a fresh coat of paint while the gardens were as lush as ever. From the outside, it was the quintessential New England home, pressure-washed to Mom’s perfection. Inside, it was cold, a preserved shrine to the past, as Dad’s love of history and Mom’s pride collided to create a stiff, sterile environment.
I walked in to find Dad sitting in the front parlor with the newspaper, his usual glass of Chardonnay beside him. His blue eyes met mine over the sports section. “Hi, honey.”
Still the strapping Sean Doyle that once regularly graced the covers of local tabloids, he was dressed to impress in khakis and a dress shirt, never one to bum it in jeans and a tee like every other American dad. His salt and pepper locks were slicked back, goatee as sculpted as ever.
“Hey, Dad.” I sat across from his leather armchair on the settee, the stiff velvet chilly on the backs of my exposed thighs.
“Your mother’s in the kitchen,” he murmured, attention back on the paper. “Making some kind of noodles.”
“At least it’s not meatloaf,” I teased, reaching out to smooth my skirt over my knees. “How’s it going?”
He smiled as his eyes skimmed the headlines. “Not as great as you, hot shot. How’d the Lorelei go?”
“It was okay.” I wanted to tell him what I really thought but didn’t want to risk Mom overhearing.
“Just okay?” he pressed, setting the paper down on his khaki-clad lap. “Not life-changing? Incredible? Awe-inspiring?”
“Anything but.” I shrugged away the sudden rush of memories flooding through me, the disgust as fresh as before. “They’re a bunch of snobs. Nothing special.”
“Keely, they’re the Lorelei!” He was all but gaping at me with wide eyes, the tiny wrinkles around them vanishing.
“They’re no different than any of the other money-hungry monsters I’ve met.” Aside from their seemingly endless wealth. But monsters nonetheless.
“Honey, you can’t dislike someone just because they’re wealthy. You came from a well-to-do family. You’d be hating yourself.”
“It’s not the same,” I grumbled, stuffing down the urge to point out that I didn’t take a dime from them after moving out for college. I took care of myself the old-fashioned way. I
had the student loans to prove it. “They flaunt their money.”
He studied me for a moment before flipping the paper to reveal the front-page headline: EVER’S LATEST SELLS FOR RECORD-BREAKING $123 million. “You had a front-row seat to history, Keely.”
I studied the image, spying Ethan and I in the swarm of attendees with his arm draped over my shoulders. It wasn’t like it was hard to spot us, our clothing tame compared to others, a feat since my metallic bronze dress seemed too flashy in the fitting room.
Dread clawed at my guts. “Mom saw that, I assume?”
He nodded with a sigh, glancing at the doorway to make sure the coast was clear. “And she’s upset. You told her you weren’t dating anyone, remember?”
“I’m not.” With nerves already on edge awaiting Ethan’s call, I wasn’t in the mood to talk about any of it.
His face sagged in disappointment at my response. “You two look awfully friendly there…”
If he thought that was friendly… I rolled my eyes, thoroughly done with the conversation. It was good to know I’d walked into a trap of a family dinner. “Well, we should. He is one of my best friends.”
Dad tossed the newspaper to the coffee table between us before leaning back in his chair. “Did you find out how he got tickets?”
“A friend didn’t want to go. Apparently he wasn’t a fan of the snobs. Unfortunately for us, we weren’t either.” I knew it had to sting to hear I’d infiltrated the exclusive crowd so easily while he and Mom had chased them for years to no avail. Not only that, I hated every second of something he no doubt would’ve loved.
“He mention his friend’s name?” he asked dryly, a slight smirk touching his lips.
“No. Why?” I couldn’t care less who it was. Or maybe I did. They owed us both a drink after letting us wander into snob central.
“I wonder if that friend is Ever,” Dad muttered as he looked back at the newspaper splayed across the table. “Reporters are all over the story. Some think Ever might have attended, since it was such a big reveal. Maybe they gave Ethan the tickets to throw off the trail.”
