Authors: Kira Ward
“Is it crazy that I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything?”
“Yeah,” he said. And then he drew one of my fingers into his mouth and it was like I could feel it deep inside, as though he’d just drawn my clit into his mouth instead of my finger.
I lay back again and closed my eyes, wanting to feel and remember everything about this night. About this moment.
He sucked my fingers for a long moment, then kissed my palm again. His breath was hot on my skin, his lips so soft and dry. He kissed the inside of my wrist, sliding his lips slowly up the inside of my arm. When he reached the low edge of my sleeve, he skipped over it, tugging my shirt down over my shoulder so that the skin there was revealed. He kissed me there, tiny little kisses that were like warm drops of rain. When he came to my neck, he nibbled a little, pain mixing with the pleasure that was only building and building in my lower belly.
When he reached the center of my throat, he changed direction, moving slowly down over the top mounds of my breasts. His hand snuck under the bottom edge of my shirt, and his palm pressed against the soft mound of my belly. He seemed content to just leave his hand there, and I didn’t mind the reassuring feel of it, the heat of it that seemed to warm me from head to toe.
His mouth moved to one hard nipple that was sticking up against the material of my bra and my shirt, his teeth sharp even with all that cushion between them and my flesh. The sharp pain and the burst of pleasure made me arch my back, a small moan slipping from between my lips. He backed off for a second, but then he did it again, clearly enjoying my reaction.
I wanted to kiss him. I needed to kiss him. I touched his jaw, drew him up to me. He studied my eyes for a second, but then turned away, buried his face against my shoulder, kissing me there instead. But I was determined. I pulled him up to me again and pressed my lips against his. He didn’t respond at first, but then it was like his will just melted. He pushed me firmly against the mattress and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue over the top of my mouth, touching me in places I didn’t even know existed.
His hand abandoned my belly and slid back down over my hip. He grabbed my ass and pulled me closer to him, tugging my leg over his hip. He pressed his hard cock against me, still locked away in denim but so hard that nothing could disguise how badly he wanted this, how much he wanted me. And that made my heart skip a beat, made me want to melt into him and let him do anything he could possibly want to do.
His hand slid under my pants again. This time he tugged at them, pulled them down over the curve of my hip. And I took hold of his pants, tugged at the button that held them closed. The moment it came open, the head of his cock pressed against my fingers from under the straining material of his briefs. I reached inside and he groaned against my lips as my hand wrapped around his shaft. He was so hard, his head wet with a steady stream of precum. I wanted to taste it. How many romances had I read that talked about the tingle of that first taste of his cum? I wanted to know that, which was funny because the idea of taking a man into my mouth had always made me squeamish. But not tonight. Tonight was a time of courage, of trying new things, of letting go of old inhibitions. Tonight I was a new girl.
It was my turn to take a little control.
I pushed him back, forcing him flat against the mattress, then climbed to my knees. I lifted my shirt off, pleased with the spark of excitement that ignited in his eyes when I reached behind me to unhook my bra. My breasts fell free, my short, hard nipples pointing up to the ceiling like there was something important to see up there. But my attention was drawn to his half open jeans, to the thick cockhead poking out over the top of his dark briefs.
I carefully freed him of his briefs and slid my hand slowly down the length of him, my thighs doing a funny little dance as more and more of him was revealed. Little fingers of fear danced in my belly as I realized he was much bigger than anyone else I’d ever been with. But it wasn’t enough to cool the heat that had been burning deep inside of me from almost the moment I realized what he’d done, that it had been him who’d come to my rescue.
“Sloane,” he said softly as I bent to press my tongue against his head.
I liked the sound of my name on his lips.
Did I want this because he rescued me from Ryan? I don’t know. That was part of it, I was sure. Maybe it was about the girls I’d heard in his bed, too. They sure seemed to enjoy what he had to offer. And maybe it was a little about the way he looked, the way he made me feel when he looked at me. The danger that made my thighs quiver that day he pushed me up against the wall in anger. It was all of that and none of it. It was a need that I didn’t even know existed inside of me. All I knew was that I wanted him. And nothing was going to change that.
this preppy little girl was—
Oh, my God!—
giving me one of the best blow jobs I’d ever had! When she stopped me at the door, when she begged me not to leave, I told myself this was insane. She was scared. She didn’t want to be alone. I understood that. But when she kissed me, when I kissed her…it’s like something inside my head just snapped.
I shouldn’t be doing this. There was something. I was forgetting something. But I couldn’t think of what it was.
And my cock was in her mouth and it felt like fucking heaven!
I pressed my fingers in her long, thick, red hair and encouraged her to take more, to let me slide deep inside her throat. She knew what she was doing, this perfect little bitch who acted like she’d never even seen a cock, let alone tasted one. All the most exciting girls were always the ones who hid it the best.
I half sat up and pulled my shirt over my head. Then I grabbed her thigh and pulled at it, trying to tell her what I wanted. It took a second, but she got the message. I tore her pants from her body, just as anxious to taste her as she’d been to taste me.
She had a nice little ass. The skirts she wore hadn’t given it full credit. It was rounded and tight, the kind of ass I loved to hang on to. I bit the back of her thigh a little too hard, but she didn’t seem to mind. And her groan was a lovely vibration against my already bursting cock. I kissed her ass before I nibbled there, too, not missing the irony of the moment. I’m sure she’d throw that back in my face the next time we faced off in the hallway. But it was beautiful. I couldn’t help myself.
Her pussy was one of those deliciously plump ones, the kind that looked like it could stand up to an enthusiastic pumping. She kept it trimmed, which was nice. It was nice and wet, her juices making it so easy for me to slide one, then two, fingers deep inside of her. She moaned again, twisting her hips a little to get me to touch her in all the right places. She knew what she wanted. I liked that, too.
I drew out her clit and ran my index finger over it. She moved her hips again, a slow, steady hum sliding out around my cock. Then I took a little lick and that hum became a song.
She was so ready. And that made me hurt because I wanted her so badly.
Again that feeling that I’d forgotten something tugged at my thoughts. But the moment for rational thought had gone long ago. I buried my mouth against those beautiful lips and let her juices dance over my tongue. I could feel her thighs quiver, felt her moans as much as heard them. I pulled her clit into my mouth and swirled it around my tongue. Her sigh made all the moisture on my cock freeze for a second, creating sensations that could not be duplicated under any other circumstances.
She was driving me crazy!
I couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to tease her, to drive her to the edge and pull her back. But she’d already driven me to the edge and was pushing me over. I had to be inside of her, had to see her face when that first orgasm burst through her body. I don’t know why I wanted that so badly but I did. I wanted to see the pleasure dance in those gorgeous eyes of hers, wanted to feel the physical reaction of her body when I made her cum.
There was a little confusion in her eyes when I tugged her away from my cock, but it quickly turned to understanding when I moved between her legs. She reached down to guide me in. The feel of her hand on my cock was almost too much. I had to push her hands away, had to bury myself inside of her before I lost all control.
I spread her legs wide, held her thighs open. And then I leaned close to her, pressing my cock against her lovely folds. When I began to slide inside, she hissed before biting down on her bottom lip. I tried to go slow, tried not to rush her. I could feel a little resistance, could feel her trying to relax her muscles, but she was so well lubricated that I was balls deep before either of us realized it. I leaned forward, resting my hands on either side of her head. I bent low to kiss her chin. She responded, moving so that my mouth slid over hers.
I’m not big a kisser. Not on the lips. It’s one thing to touch your lips to someone’s skin. It’s another to swap spit. Kissing seems like something grandmothers do when they see their grandchildren after a long absence. It’s not something that has to be a part of sex. But Sloane’s kisses were sweet. Gentle. They seemed to touch something inside of me that had nothing to do with fucking. It touched something inside of me that I thought had died long ago, one afternoon outside of Kandahar.
I liked the way she responded to me, liked the way a kiss made her move her hips against mine. I liked the way she moaned softly against me. I liked the way she tasted, the way she smelled. I liked…hell, I liked just about everything about it.
So we kissed, exploring each other as we lay there tangled in each other. And, almost as if it was a natural extension of that kiss, we began to move. A nice, slow movement that was like every other time I’d ever been with a woman and like none of those times. It was physically the same but it felt like a whole new experience—like we’d taken this simple act and elevated to a higher plane. And I felt insane for even thinking that, but that’s what it was like.
I had to break the kiss after a while, my lungs starving for oxygen. She had her eyes closed as she clung to my arms and moved her hips in quick response to my movements. I touched her forehead, moved the hair out of her face and was quickly lost in the beauty of her image. Pleasure softened the harsh lines around her mouth, her eyes.
Then her lips parted, and a low cry slipped from between them that grew and danced around us. Her hips stopped moving, and she pressed her pussy hard against me, trying to hold me fast against that place deep inside of her that was flexing, releasing wave after wave of pleasure through her body. She was coming because of me, because of my touch.
It was a beautiful fucking sight.
And then I lost it. My balls tightened out of nowhere and emptied themselves inside her, spurt after spurt sending the most intense tingles of pleasure through my body. When it was done I almost felt as though I’d run forty miles with a sixty-pound pack on my back.
I collapsed onto the mattress beside her. She immediately turned into me, laying her head on my chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered, as though I’d just done her a favor.
Maybe I had.
But it felt like she’d done one for me.
* * *
with her through the night. I don’t know why. I’m not a kisser and I’m not a cuddle and stay the night kind of guy. But after that first time, when she fell asleep in my arms, curled up like a child, I couldn’t bring myself to disturb her. And when she woke late in the night and wiggled her sexy little hips against me, I couldn’t resist sliding inside her again, couldn’t resist seeing that pleasure tinged beauty dance across her face.
But when I woke a little before dawn, reality slowly began to set in. I was laying naked in the bed of a woman who accused me of keying her car. A woman who’d been attacked by her chosen lover the night before. How was she going to feel when she woke and found me there beside her? Would she be happy to see me? Or would she be horrified by her own choices?
I was betting on the latter.
The last thing I needed was to find myself in an awkward, the-morning-after sort of situation. I carefully untangled myself from her body and dressed as silently as I could. It crossed my mind to leave her a note, but I decided against it. If I was wrong, if she would have welcomed my presence in her bed this morning, she knew where I lived.
appreciate you doing this
Sara, an old friend from high school who had only recently moved back to town, waved her hand at me like I was an annoying bug. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I wanted to see you. If I had to drive you home from work to make it happen, then that’s fine with me.”
I smiled, hoping it came off as the friendly smile I intended. But it felt like such an effort. Not that I wasn’t appreciative of Sara, but my thoughts had been so distracted the last few days that I just couldn’t make myself focus longer than a few moments at a time.
We pulled up to my building a minute later. Major’s truck was parked in front just like it always was. I hadn’t seen him in five days, not since the night he ran Ryan off and shared my bed. I woke and he was gone, like he wanted to deny anything had ever happened. But it had, and I didn’t know what it meant. Waking up alone, however, seemed to suggest it hadn’t meant anything to him at all.
Why did that hurt so much? Why did I even care? Why was it that I couldn’t get him off my mind and every time I climbed into bed at night, I thought I could still smell him there? Why did I want a man who clearly didn’t want me? A man who wasn’t even my type…
I hated this. A part of me desperately wanted to move out of this place and start over again somewhere else. Somewhere far from Major.
And part of me jumped every time a door slammed, hoping that it was him coming to talk to me.
“When’s your car going to be ready?”
I glanced at Sara. I’d almost forgotten she was there, so lost as I was in my reverie.
“Was supposed to be yesterday. But they had trouble matching the color or something.”
“I’m hoping it’ll be ready by Saturday.”
We got out of her car and headed inside. Sara paused in the entry way, her eyes widening as she looked around at the high ceilings, the original marble floors, and the massive staircase.
“This is something,” she said with awe in her voice.
I paused beside her, taking it all in as I’d forgotten to do the past few weeks.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“How many apartments?”
She shook her head. “I’d give anything to get into a quaint little building like this. There are fifty apartments in the high rise where I live. Everyone keeps to themselves, never even trying to get to know each other because the turnover is pretty high. It’s so impersonal. And the lobby? It’s nowhere near as amazing as this.”
“I was lucky to get in here. My dad found it, actually.”
“Yeah? How did he know about it?”
“The building belongs to one of his clients.”
“He’s a lawyer, right?”
I nodded. “Still works Clausen and Johns.”
I shrugged. It paid the bills, I supposed. I knew the firm he was with was fairly prestigious. Most of their clients were the one percenters who made their money in oil. But all I really knew about it was that it was a big part of the reason why he couldn’t be a part of our family. Work took up too much time, he said. He was too ambitious. It wouldn’t be fair to us.
Yeah, well, he should have thought of that before he made my mom love him and they brought me into the world.
Sara suddenly grabbed my arm. We were still standing in the middle of the lobby, so I didn’t understand until she hissed near my ear, “Who’s that?”
That’s when I saw him coming out of the laundry room, a duffle bag tossed casually over his shoulder. He was wearing the same sort of tight t-shirt and jeans he always seemed to wear, the tattoos on his arms standing out especially bright in the dim lights.
He paused when he saw us, his eyes moving slowly over me before shifting to Sara. I couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw. It was like there was a mask over his eyes, hiding what had been so easy to read the other night.
“Hey,” he said, lifting his chin in a macho little gesture.
Sara poked my side, making me jump a little. I straightened, tugging at my suit jacket as I faced him.
“Sara, this is my neighbor, Major.”
“Major,” she said, her voice suddenly taking on a soft, southern drawl. “That’s an unusual name.”
His eyes moved over me again, lingering on my face for a second. Then he shifted the bag and moved past us, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Well,” Sara snorted, “that was rude.”
“He’s not really a talkative kind of guy.”
I turned and headed up the stairs. I didn’t know what I was hoping to do. Talk to him, maybe. But his door slammed before I got to the top. I paused, wondering what he would do if I knocked on his door. But then the memory of what happened the last time I knocked on his door slipped through my mind and I decided it probably wasn’t the best idea I ever had.
I went to my own door and unlocked it. I was about to step through when Sara rushed up behind me and grabbed my shoulders.
“You slept with him!”
I grabbed her arm and dragged her inside the apartment, an irrational fear that Major had overheard her making my cheeks burn.
“What makes you think—”
“A woman scorned is the only kind of woman who would respond to a guy like that.”
“I’m not a woman scorned!”
Sara followed me into the kitchen where I went in search of a bottle of wine I kept at the back of the refrigerator. She hopped up onto the kitchen counter to watch me.
“I know something happened between the two of you. So why don’t you just tell me instead of making me guess.”
I groaned, but if there was something I knew about Sara, it was that she was like a dog with a bone. She never let anything go.
“You have to promise not to say anything to Kyle.”
“Because he has this habit of saying, ‘I told you so.’”
“He knew you were going to sleep with your neighbor?”
“No. He knew this guy Ryan was going to turn out to be a loser.”
“Okay, now you really have to tell me.”
I grabbed a couple of glasses out of the cabinet and poured us both a healthy dose of wine. Then I went into the living room and curled up on the couch after kicking off my shoes, ironically sitting in the same spot I’d sat in when Major was there.
Sara settled next to me and knocked her shoulder into mine. “Tell me.”
So I did. I started with the vandalism on my car, the argument Major and I had in the hallway, and then with Ryan. I thought she was going to fall over when I told her what Ryan had done, but then when I explained how Major came rushing in like some sort of superhero, she was like a super fan at a Ryan Gosling movie.
“That’s so romantic! I can’t believe he just came rushing in here like that.”
“I told you, these walls are like paper. He probably heard me scream.”
“But he could have ignored your screams. Or thought you were just having good sex, like he’d been doing the week before.”
That had never crossed my mind. I guess I should have been more grateful that he’d come to my rescue than I’d been.
“And then?” Sara urged me.
“And then…” I looked over at the door, the memory of what happened next again making my cheeks burn. “And then I asked him to stay. And he did.”
“God, Sloane, you are so lucky! That guy has got to be the hottest guy I’ve seen in a very long time. And that’s saying a lot since I worked with that talent agent up in Austin last summer.”
“Maybe? First he comes in and rescues you, then he takes you to bed? That’s the stuff that romance movies are made of.”
I shrugged. But I was thinking that if it had been all that romantic, he would have stuck around until I woke the next day. What kind of guy just up and leaves like that? Didn’t he think I’d want to talk in the morning? Or was that exactly what he was running from?
A guy who could key someone’s car out of retaliation for something so trivial had to be capable of just about anything.
“Do you really think he keyed your car?” Sara asked, almost as if she were reading my mind.
“I don’t know who else could have. He was the only one who had a beef against me.”
“It just…” Sara sighed rather than finishing her thought.
“It just…it seems like a guy who has the moral compass to save a girl being attacked, a girl he probably didn’t like much at the time, is not the kind of guy who would key someone’s car over a few calls to the building manager.”
“But if it wasn’t him, who could it have been?”
Sara sat up and finished the wine in her glass. She looked uncomfortable and I wasn’t quite sure why. But I got the impression it had everything to do with the damage to my car.
“Do you know something?”
She glanced at me. “Not specifically.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…hell, Sloane, it means that I know someone who might have been deeply hurt by you going out with that Ryan guy. And if I know you, you bragged about it to him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kyle.” She shook her head as she turned to me again. “You’ve always had this blind spot when it comes to Kyle, even in high school.”
“Kyle and I are friends.”
and Kyle are just friends. For Kyle, it’s not really that cut and dry.”
And now I was completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Kyle’s in love with you, Sloane. He has been since freshman year.”
“No,” I said, as though denying it would make it true. “We’re just friends.”
“He’s in love with you. And when you slept with him on graduation night, you just poured oil on the fire. Don’t you see that?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I got up and went back to the kitchen, pouring more wine into my glass. It just didn’t make sense to me. Kyle and I talked about that night for months before we did anything. We both agreed that it was just a one-time thing, just two friends doing each other a favor. It didn’t mean anything beyond that we were best friends and we would do anything for each other. This was why I chose him. Because I knew there would be no emotional mess afterward. And there wasn’t. We hung out with each other all summer just like we’d done before. Nothing changed.
At least, that’s what I thought.
“He used to call me late at night and cry on my shoulder over you. I kept telling him to tell you the truth, but he was too afraid. He didn’t want to screw up your friendship. But he’s always loved you.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t my place.”
I groaned, feeling almost as though I was arguing with my mom over my dad again.
Why don’t you tell him what he does to you when he cuts you off like this?
Because it would just make him feel guilty.
So I’ll do it.
It’s not your place, Sloane. It’s mine.
I brushed past Sloane and grabbed my purse.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to talk to him.”
“Then I guess you need a ride.”
* * *
in a small house in Sugar Land, southwest of downtown Houston. I didn’t bother to call first. I wanted him to be caught by surprise.
Sara pulled into the driveway and he came to the door, his tall, lanky shadow so familiar that it almost hurt to look at it. It wasn’t possible, was it?
“Hey,” he said, a surprised smile sliding over his familiar features. “What are you two doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
The smile immediately disappeared. He glanced over at Sara, but she was still in the car, pretending to not be hanging on every word. Then his soft brown eyes fell on me again.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you key my car?”
He didn’t have to say a word. I saw it on his face, saw it dancing in the shadows of his eyes. I don’t know why I’d never seen it before. It was all there now, so clear, as though written out in plain language on the pages of a car. It made my stomach twist into knots for so many reasons I couldn’t even begin to sort them all out.
“Hell!” I muttered under my breath.
“I’m sorry, Sloane,” he said quickly. “I went out drinking that night and I wasn’t thinking straight.”
I waved his apology away like I was swatting a fly. “No, I’m sorry.”
He frowned, his eyes darkening. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I should have seen it, should have known how you felt about me. I can’t believe I didn’t.” I crossed my arms over my chest, the pain in my belly only growing. “All these years, talking to you about Philip and all the other guys I had crushes on. It was cruel.”
“No. We were friends. That’s what friends do.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
He glanced over at Sara still sitting in her car, a hurricane of emotion sifting through his eyes.
“I didn’t want to change things. I didn’t want you to filter yourself.”
“I would have. For you.”
I studied his face for a long minute, finally putting a name on the pain that was twisting my stomach. It was grief. It was the realization that this friendship that I’d counted on for so long was never what I thought it was. And now it was over. It would never be the same no matter what he said or what I did. I’d just lost my best friend and that hurt.