Bit by the Bug (Matthews Sisters 1) (8 page)

Pushing his head down, she arched towards his mouth. His face nuzzled along the valley of her breasts as he tugged at her tank top. Jack rolled to the side, taking her with him as he fell on his back. The heated press of his cock strained against the stiff denim beneath her. Now, with both hands free, he reached to pull off her shirt.

Kat froze. Her mouth opened but no words came out. She wasn’t sure what was going on. Sex with Jack was always great, but for some reason, she was feeling guilty. She thought of absentminded Dr Vincent, wondering why in the world the man would enter her head at such a heated, passionate moment. It’s not like she had any promise to become intimate with him. Then why the guilt?

‘Kat?’ Jack whispered, confused.

‘Jack, I . . .’ There was a long pause. After four years, they knew each other well and some things didn’t have to be said. But it didn’t make what seemed to be happening any easier.

He sighed, nudging her with his body. She crawled off of him, sitting next to him on the floor. ‘It’s fine, Kat. I understand. Another time perhaps. Another life.’

Kat wondered at the soft, thoughtful sound. Trying to be nice, she said, ‘I’m sorry, kissing you was perfect for inspiration.’

‘Say no more.’ Jack rolled up from the floor with a sigh. ‘I read you loud and clear. You need to work.’

‘But –’

‘I have to get up early anyway. I’m meeting some friends for a workout at eight.’

Kat was slower to stand. She watched him tug on his sweater. His movements were jerky and he refused to look directly at her. ‘Jack, is there something up with you? Do you need to tell me something? Do you need to talk?’

Turning to her, he cupped her cheek. Slowly, he glanced down over her body before meeting her eyes.
‘Kat, there’s nothing for you to be concerned over. I’m just preoccupied and busy, OK? I shouldn’t have come tonight. I . . .’

Kat nodded in understanding, reading in his expression the words he was refusing to say – words she didn’t want to say herself. ‘Sure, but you know I’m here if you need me, all right?’ She gave him a small grin and tapped the middle of his chest with her knuckle. ‘And not just for sex either. We are friends. I can help you if you need me.’

‘I know, doll,’ he answered, adopting a 1920s gangster accent. With a light tap, he lightly clucked her across the chin. ‘Take care-a you.’

‘Take care-a you,’ she answered, mimicking his tone.

Jack planted a quick kiss on her head and turned to leave. She couldn’t let him go, not like this. What they had might not be true love, but the intimacy they’d shared for so long had brought them close. Kat did love him, in her way.

‘Jack, wait. What’s happening here? It feels like . . .’She bit her lip, trying not to cry.

‘It feels like goodbye,’ he answered, not turning to look at her. ‘That’s because we both know it is goodbye.’

‘I don’t . . .’ Kat took a deep breath. Shouldn’t there be more of an emotional outpouring? Uncontrollable sobs and begging? Sure, there was fear of being alone, sadness that a relationship was ending, but they were still friends and would see each other again. She had to trust in that much.

‘Kat, don’t. Tonight I’d decided something on the way over. We’re not going anywhere. We haven’t been going anywhere for four years. So, I decided that I would ask you to marry me. If it was meant to be, you’d say yes, fall into my arms and finally tell me you love me.’

‘But, I tell you I love you all the time.’ She took a deep breath, shaking slightly. ‘And I mean it.’

‘Yeah, you do, but this time it would’ve been different.
You would’ve said it like you needed me to survive. But you don’t need me, Kat, not really. And though I love you, I don’t need you either, not like a man should need a woman.’ He glanced back. Words were coming out of his mouth saying one thing, but the pain was in his gaze. No matter what kind of brave face he put on it, this was affecting him too. ‘There’s no reason to make a scene, is there? This is what it is. We’re too adult to lie to each other. I’ll see you around. We still care about each other. We’re still friends and we both agreed when this moment came, we wouldn’t get all weird. So, like I said, I’ll see you around.’

‘I’ll see you on opening night. I wouldn’t miss your play for the world.’ Kat watched as he walked out of the apartment. Part of her wanted to yell for him to come back, that even though this wasn’t romantic true love, it was love and she didn’t want to be alone. She liked how in sync they were, how he knew her. But to call him back wasn’t fair to Jack. It wasn’t fair to her. Taking a deep breath, she locked her front door, shut off her lights and went to her bedroom. She felt lonely, and she again resisted the urge to call Jack and ask him to come back. On a primal level she wanted sex, but in her heart she didn’t want sex with him. Jack had been her crutch, a way to avoid all other relationships. Did he finally realise it, too? A tear slipped over her cheek. She cried for her, for Jack, for what they couldn’t force to be between them.

Suddenly very tired, Kat pulled back her comforter. The bedding set was a matching camel-coloured floral pattern, complete with decorative pillows and a matching cashmere throw blanket. The ivory sheets and pillow-cases were four hundred and sixty thread count Egyptian cotton with a floral border embroidered along the top edge. Her mother had bought the bedding for her last birthday. Otherwise, she would’ve still been using the old cartoon character sheets she had when she first moved out of the house.

Kat bit her lip, trying to think of anything besides what had happened that night. If she didn’t have Jack, she always had her career to focus on. But even her career didn’t look too bright at the moment.

Kat saw a picture on her dresser of her sisters. It was sad that even Ella thought she needed her mother’s help to make it in the big city. She’d done all right for herself, though even she had to admit getting the great apartment was mostly dumb luck. The old furniture in the room was painted white, only as a last ditch effort to save it. She’d gotten the lamp off the street corner out of a trash bin, painted it and rewired it until it looked halfway decent. But, somehow, looking around, she didn’t feel it was good enough.

‘You have to make this work for you, Kat. You have to make Vincent notice you,’ she whispered, reaching for the lamp that suddenly looked so ugly with its black and gold crackle paint. ‘It’s time to make something happen for yourself.’

It was time to grow up. He might not have said it, but Jack was right in walking out on her. Or did she break up with him? It had happened so fast she couldn’t be sure. It was all so confusing. Maybe they weren’t broken up. No one had said the actual words. He’d only said goodbye.

Closing her eyes, Kat knew she should get to sleep. Her body was still aroused but she refused to pull out her vibrator to relieve the tension. She was too depressed, even for that. Tomorrow was the first day of her new job and she planned on making sure Vincent thought of her as invaluable.

Kat gasped, feeling hands along her sides. Did Jack change his mind and come back? It had to be him, as he was the only man with a key. Should she protest? Or maybe this was farewell sex?

Her mind was hazy and she didn’t think to stop the
man from kissing her because it felt too good. The bedroom was dark, but she didn’t think to be scared as a tongue brushed along her neck. His hands were everywhere, confident and sure. Then, suddenly she was astride a naked body, the feel of warm flesh potent and real.

Was this another of Jack’s games? The sex with a stranger scenario? Should she stop him?

She leaned over, moaning as she kissed him, unable to find the will to stop what they were doing. Her hands instantly went to his waistband as she rubbed her pussy along his thigh, causing sweet friction between them. The stimulation to her clit sent little jolts of pleasure throughout her, causing moisture to gather along her folds. The man’s hands were everywhere, running up and down over her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples. Her body tingled in sexual excitement where a thigh pressed tight into her.

Kat dipped her fingers down between her thighs to find a large erection. He was stiff and ready as she touched him, stroking him as she worked her hand down into his crotch to cup his balls. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his cock, needing to feel his body inside hers, wanting the sensation of being alive that only an intense orgasm could bring. With a firm pull, he tugged her forwards until she was straddling his hips.

She shivered in pleasure and anticipation. Her knees pressed into the softness of the mattress even as her finger grazed the harder surface of the man’s chest. Kat rocked her hips against him, wetting him with her body’s cream as she moved up and down along his shaft, not taking him inside. The firm texture of his cock pressed against her sex and felt so good she didn’t want to stop. As if fascinated by her breasts, he cupped them, kneading them in his palms. He groaned, a truly masculine, tortured sound of pleasure.

Leaning over, she kissed him, tasting the minty freshness of his tongue against hers. He lifted her hips, angling his body to meet hers. A shock of pleasure hit her as the head of his penis touched her wet folds. He confidently thrust inside her, rocking his hips gently, working into her. Kat took him in, forgetting all about her momentary guilt from before as she felt the pressure of him deep inside her pussy.

‘Ah, yes,’ she said, breathlessly. He was unusually quiet, but she barely noticed. He might not be talking, but he was making all the right little noises in the back of his throat. His hand glided down her chest to her sex. The man knew how to work magic with his fingers as he stroked lightly along her folds to find the small pearl hidden there. Kat moved faster on top of him, her pleasure building.

He groaned, easily meeting the new speed. Her blood seemed to slow in her veins, as her hips jerked with the beginnings of release. She rolled her hips in a small circle, keeping his shaft deep inside. Kat grabbed her own breasts, tweaking the nipples. He didn’t let up from her clit. She jerked again, gasping and stiffening as she came.

‘Oh. Fuck.’ The words were as stunted as his movements, as he shook violently, stiffening and trembling at the same time. The voice continued in a whisper, ‘Fuck. Fuck. Yeah.’

Kat’s head fell back on her shoulders and she opened her mouth wide, gasping for breath. Her heart beat hard in her chest and she tried to focus on the sound of his voice, trying to place it. ‘Dr Vincent?’

‘Shit!’ Kat screamed, sitting up in bed, breathing hard. Her arms flailed as she felt all around her. The bed was empty. Tossing the blankets off, she practically jumped off the mattress as if burnt by it. It was just a dream – a potent, erotic, sinfully wrong dream. Her heart was still
beating hard and her body was tense, no longer feeling the relief of her dream state orgasm. Instead, unfulfilled arousal caused her nipples to ache.

Why in the world was she dreaming of the awkward Dr Vincent?

‘He has your career in your hands,’ she assured herself, breathing hard. ‘The dream was just a primal manifestation of your true desires.’

It was early yet, but she couldn’t make herself crawl back between the sheets. She could still feel the touch of her dream lover’s hands on her body. Weak and in a state of extreme arousal, she stumbled towards the bathroom.

‘I must be more upset about Jack than I thought.’

But, as she turned on the shower, it wasn’t Jack’s hands she was thinking about or his voice echoing in the back of her head as she thrust her hand between her thighs. Stroking her clit, she rode her hand hard. Vincent’s deep-brown eyes were burned into her mind as she brought her body to climax. Kat shook, as the water beat down on her sensitive flesh.

Breathless, she whispered, ‘What in the world was that all about?’

Vincent jolted awake, sitting up on his cot in sleepy surprise. Glancing around, he was disorientated by the sound of loud music being pumped into his room from outside the door. He blinked several times and it took him a moment to realise he was still at work and in his office. The music had a steady beat meant for club dancing – the kind of sound he’d never expect to be playing in his office building. It surely wasn’t anything to which he’d have chosen to listen.

Blinking to adjust his vision to the dimness, he looked around the small room. The blinds were drawn, but light still streamed in from a small window, giving enough to see by. He had no idea what time it was, but judged by the fact there was light outside that he’d overslept. Normally, he liked to get an early start and, for that matter, a late finish.

His desk was full of folders, badly in need of filing. Somewhere under the pile were a laptop computer and a phone he rarely answered, though it did occasionally ring. The trash bin was overflowing with wadded up pieces of yellow notebook paper. Books lined the shelves along one wall. Many of the larger volumes were missing and he knew them to be scattered around the entire building.

It took him a moment to get his bearings, but slowly he noticed a large take-out coffee cup on the edge of his desk. It wasn’t his. Was it for him?

Vincent pushed to his feet, stretching his arms wide. Amazingly, he felt rested, more so than he had in a long
time. Picking up the coffee cup, he found it was full. On the side, someone had written on it in black permanent marker, ‘Drink Me’. A bag next to the coffee read, ‘Eat Me’. Curious, he opened the bag and found a pastry.

‘Hmm.’ He glanced around the room to see if there were any other changes as he quickly ate his breakfast. Taking a drink of the cooled liquid, he was glad to find it was just plain coffee – no frills or exotic blends, just good black coffee.

Drawn to the door, he took the cup with him. Where exactly was the music coming from? Who’d left the food? For a moment, he thought of his mother. No. That wasn’t her style. She’d have come in with an army of maids and a chef, demanding he wake up to see what she was doing.

He was still dressed from the night before, down to his shoes. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep like that. Vincent yawned, taking another sip as he walked down the hall, following the sound of someone yelling borderline obscenities into a microphone. Pushing open the door to the collection room, he paused, stunned by the sight of his workspace.