by Marni Mann
Still, he wouldn’t let me lower. So, I stayed frozen, my body pulsing around him, the need building, throbbing.
I took a breath, my lips diving back into his, and before my lungs were filled, I grunted, “Ahhh,” because, within one quick, hard thrust, he was inside me.
We were then moving toward the center of the pool, and my head was tilted back, my long locks dangling in the water while he was hitting the deepest part of me.
“Lance … yes!” Each stroke caused my hair to get wetter until the water covered everything but my nose. With my ears in the pool, I could hear the movement of his body, the waves he was causing, the way his grunts rippled like bubbles over the top of me.
“So fucking tight,” he hissed over my chest, his mouth pressed to the center of it while he breathed against me.
I wrapped my hands around his neck, and I held myself steady as the top of my clit began to grind into the base of his dick, creating friction that was utterly consuming me. “Yesss,” I cried.
Before I was even finished moaning, he was lifting me, and we were moving through the water to the other edge of the pool where I placed my arms on the brick, facing the ocean, while Lance moved in behind me.
And as I took a breath, staring at the sight I loved more than anything, my husband filled me again.
Entirely.
His hands cupped my breasts as he squeezed my nipples while he pumped into me, and my body accepted every punch of his hips. And while he was working both parts of me, my orgasm started to build.
There was no skin in front of me to grab. No bed or pillow to stab my nails into. So, I gripped the bullnose as his pace began to quicken.
“Harder,” I begged. “Please.” I did everything but shout, “Oh God, yes!”
His fingers bit into me while he held on, using my body to rock back and forth, and from his movement, I could feel how close he was getting.
“Baby …” His face was in my neck, teeth on my shoulder.
I turned my chin, so our mouths were closer. Each exhale shooting out of my lips until I moaned, “Lance …” That was when a sharp, intense pleasure began to spread through me.
“I want to feel you come.”
His hand slipped down the front of me, and after a few quick, hard passes across my clit, adding more pressure to what was already building, tingles shot through my stomach, and I lost it.
“Fuck,” he grunted, and each of his thrusts was getting harder, telling me he was feeling the same. And then I heard, “Chloe,” and I knew his body was reaching its peak.
A shudder took over, and I bucked my hips to meet him, riding out both of our orgasms.
“Jesus,” he breathed when I stilled, sliding out to face me. He wrapped my legs around his waist and held my back against the pool, our mouths close as he lowered us into the water.
When I finally caught my breath, I asked, “Do you have to work today?” My arms circled a little tighter around his neck.
“Just a few hours’ worth.” He kissed my forehead. “I thought we would then take out the Jet Skis and drive them to the oyster bar for lunch.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” I laughed, putting my head back to get my hair wet again, and I pecked his lips on the way up. “And while you get all your stuff done, I’m going to work extremely hard on my tan.”
He laughed, his hands now on my ass, gripping it hard.
“Go now so you can come back to me even sooner.”
He growled as he kissed me, and I watched him pull on his shorts and lift himself out of the pool. I wasn’t far behind, moving over to my bikini and tying it on before I stepped out.
When I’d first come outside earlier this morning, I’d placed my phone and sunscreen on one of the loungers, and that was where I headed. I took a seat, getting comfortable on the oversize cushion, and looked at my phone, scrolling through the messages that had come in.
I felt myself stop breathing when I saw one from Oliver.
London: Does America taste as good as when you left?
My husband had been inside me only minutes ago, and now, Oliver was on my screen.
And there was a sensation in my body that I’d never felt before.
Me: I’m in Florida right now, and I have to say, the view is pretty outstanding.
London: Let me see.
I aimed my camera at the beach that was only a pool deck away, the clear water lapping against the powdery-white sand. Satisfied with the picture, I sent it.
London: That’s not the view I was hoping for, gorgeous.
Me: LOL. How’s Amsterdam?
London: Certainly not hot and sunny like it is there.
London: You didn’t hear this from me—the team approved the new branding. Major fucking congrats, sweet girl.
Me: WHAT?
London: Email coming in three … two … one …
Me: OMG. I can’t believe it. They loved all of it. I’m in shock right now.
London: So fucking proud of you.
Me: Thank you. :)
Me: Requesting to follow me, huh?
London: I don’t remember unfollowing you …
London: But I do remember when it happened.
Me: It was the only way I could move on.
London: Chloe, I was just trying to do the same thing.
London: Looks like someone wants to gain access to me now.
Me: Guilty.
Me: That last pic of you and the boys—I’m dying laughing. Look at all the mischief you still find yourselves in. None of you have changed a bit. Wow, so great to see all of their faces.
London: They say hello.
Me: Please tell them I said the same back.
London: You’re going to give up that sunset for Amsterdam?
Me: I’m pretty sure the sun sets over there too.
London: See you soon, sweet girl.
“Damn it, you’re sexy …” Lance said as he walked into the bathroom.
My pulse was already rapid, as I’d been staring at Oliver’s message that had just come in. But as I heard my husband, it increased even faster.
Slowly, I set my cell facedown on the vanity, trying hard to find my breath again, and I glanced up at Lance.
And when our eyes connected, what returned was the guilt I’d felt before, but there was something else as well. It was an excitement, and it was building just as fast.
Lance’s eyes devoured me as he said, “I love you in red.”
There were two neckties in his hands, and I could tell he had come in to ask which one to put on. He always wanted to coordinate, and he hadn’t known what I was wearing to tonight’s gala.
Now, he did.
And the heat from his gaze was burning my skin. “Thank you.”
“You never wear that color.”
I shrugged, feeling the tight, strapless dress pull at my chest. “I always worry it’ll clash with my hair, and that alone makes enough of a statement.”
“And tonight?”
I smiled even though it was almost impossible to breathe. “I’m feeling a little dangerous.”
He set the ties down and came over to me. His hands gently pressed at my waist. “An hour—that’s all they get of us. Then, we’re coming home, so I can have you all to myself until you fly out tomorrow afternoon.”
My skin was on fire, my stomach a mix of tingles and aches, and I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Baby …” His eyes dropped down my body, his head shaking. “I’m one lucky man. You look so fucking beautiful.”
I shook as I heard that word in my husband’s voice, and it hurt in a way I hadn’t expected.
And I hated myself for that.
I didn’t know how to make this feeling go away.
How to make … it stop.
How to make any of this stop.
But the one thing that felt right was to circle my arms around Lance’s neck and whisper, “I can’t wait until we’re alone.”
Forty-Two
Me: Landed. Love you so
much. Call me when you wake up.
London: Are you back?
Me: Just had my first cup of Dutch pea soup. Mmm, so good.
London: Amsterdam missed you.
Me: I feel the same way …
Lance: The sunrise I woke up to wasn’t the same without you.
Me: Morning, my love.
Lance: Let’s video chat when I get to the hotel in NYC. 8 p.m. your time.
Me: Can’t wait. xoxo
London: Sorry I had to go after your presentation, but I had another meeting. You did a hell of a job, gorgeous. They’re enamored with you. It’s great to see you get what you deserve. x
Me: I know you didn’t have to be there, but thanks for taking the time to come. It meant a lot to see a familiar face in a very full crowd of strangers. I was nervous as hell.
London: Didn’t look it one bit.
Me: :)
Lance: I just saw something on Madison Ave. and thought of you, so I bought it.
Me: Oh, yeah?
Lance: I’ll give you a hint … it’s red.
Me: I can’t wait to wear it for you. ;)
Lance: Eleven days.
Me: They’re not going by fast enough.
“Hello?” I answered, sitting up in bed after seeing London on the screen of my phone.
“Chloe fucking Kennedy.”
My eyelids squinted shut, my head tilting back, and I let out the loudest laugh. “Oh, Jake. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“What the fuck are you up to?”
I sighed, taking a look around my hotel room in Amsterdam. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with that answer.”
“Chloe, I’m asking what you’re doing right now. Oliver and I are down at the pub, and I’m buying drinks. Come fucking join us.”
Something tightened in my chest. “Jake—”
“I just flew all the way here from London,” he said before I could get any words out. “It’s been six years, Chloe. Meet us for old times’ sake.”
My eyes were shut again but for an entirely different reason.
I wasn’t going to be alone with Oliver. Jake would be there, and we’d all have one drink together. Then, I’d come right back to the hotel.
This is innocent, right? Just old friends.
That was what I kept repeating in my head when I said, “Okay, I’ll meet you. But just one drink, and you have to promise me that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. “I’ll text you our location. Oliver says you’ll be able to walk; it’s really close.”
“I’ll see you soon,” I said and hung up, dropping the phone onto the nightstand.
Once I’d gotten home from work, I’d changed into pajamas and climbed into bed. The days here were long and so tiring. But now, I stood in front of my tiny closet, trying to find something to put on with the limited options I’d brought with me.
I went with a pair of skinny jeans, a sweater, and knee-high flat boots, fixing my hair and makeup before I went back over to my phone and looked at the screen. There was a text from Oliver, sharing his exact location, and I knew just where the pub was located since I walked by it every day.
I slipped the phone into my purse, grabbed my key, and left the hotel. It was just after eight, and Amsterdam hadn’t even gotten warmed up. The streets had a quiet murmur of traffic, the sidewalk almost sparse as I made it to the cross street. At the Stop sign, I turned and only had to go one block before I reached the pub.
And once I was inside, they were easy to spot because Jake shouted, “Chloe fucking Kennedy,” across the entire bar.
I laughed as I made my way over, and Jake stood, greeting me halfway, giving me a hug and lifting me into the air.
“Looking fabulous as ever.”
I giggled, squeezing him back. “God, do you men ever age?”
He set me down, his eyes giving me a once-over. “So fucking great to see you.” He put his hand on my shoulder, clenching it before he brought me over to the table he shared with Oliver.
“Hey,” I said softly as we walked toward each other.
Oliver’s hand gently grabbed my waist, and he kissed my cheek, my body instantly filling with tingles. The leather and lust of his scent went to my nose, and I took the deepest inhale.
I’d missed his smell, and I had no idea what to even think about that.
“Thanks for coming,” he said in my ear, his fingers leaving my waist as he pulled away.
“Jake wasn’t going to take no for an answer,” I responded, sitting in the empty chair as Jake called over a waitress.
“What can I get you to drink?” she asked as she stood next to me.
I saw they were having beer, and I answered, “I’ll take the lightest lager you have on tap.”
When she was gone, Jake looked at me and said, “All of us back together—who the fuck would have thought that was going to happen?”
I felt Oliver’s eyes on me before I glanced at him and replied, “I certainly didn’t.”
Oliver continued to hold my stare. “I didn’t either.”
“Well, you know what? Maybe we should have,” Jake said. “Because look at us right now—three motherfuckers drinking beer in Amsterdam like no time has gone by at all.”
Except in my mind, a world had gone by in the last six years.
The biggest difference was the diamond sitting on my left hand right now.
The waitress dropped off the tiny glass of beer that wasn’t much bigger than a shot glass—a way of drinking here that I was still trying to get used to.
“To old fucking times,” Jake said as he held his glass in the air.
Oliver and I did the same, and as I took a drink, I looked at Jake. He still had black plastic-rimmed glasses, although they’d changed shapes since I last saw him, and he still wore just an old T-shirt, both of his arms now full sleeves of colorful tattoos.
“Are you doing good?” I asked him.
Jake wasn’t the kind of guy who got serious too often, but there had been moments—like the time he’d told me how badly Oliver was going to hurt over me leaving—that I got to see the deeper side of him. But from the way Jake was looking at me now, I knew I wasn’t going to see that side. Tonight was all about fun.
“I’m doing really great, lovely.” He twisted the glass on top of the table. “I got myself a flat overlooking the Thames and a stable job in finance. Life is excellent. Well”—he lifted his beer and took a drink—“it would be a hell of a lot better if this one would come home.”
“I’m perfect right here,” Oliver shot back. “Your arse just needs to come and visit more often.”
The waitress stopped by our table again and said, “Can I get you anything else?”
“A round of tequila shots,” Jake replied. “And please make them extra cold.”
“I have to be at the office by seven tomorrow morning,” I said to Oliver, my hand going to my forehead as I anticipated the headache I was going to wake up with.
He laughed. “Me too, sweet girl.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond before Jake was grabbing my attention. “One beer, one shot, and then I promise you can go to bed.”
I smiled at them both. “We all know that’s the biggest lie in the world.”
The three of us couldn’t stop chuckling because we knew I was right.
Five hours later—my phone showing it was well past midnight—I looked at Jake and said, “I told you so. Now, I need to get home before tomorrow turns into the longest day of my life.”
Jake’s expression turned sad, his hand clasping mine in a tight grip. “Sweetheart, you are going to be deeply missed.” He kissed the center of my palm, his beer-soaked lips leaving a mark after he pulled them away. “Let’s not go another six years, all right?” I nodded, and he held out his arms. “Get over here.”
As I hugged him, memories of our time together began to fill my head, the partying and late nights and the laughs. It was only a semester, but we’d spent almost every day together,
and we’d all been so close.
Once I’d left, everything had changed.
“So fucking great to see you.” He kissed the top of my head. “Take care of yourself.” I tightened my grip for a second longer. “And take care of him.”
My arms loosened as I glanced up at Jake, our gazes holding while I took a step away from the table. “Good-bye,” I whispered.
“I’ll walk you out,” Oliver said from behind me.
I grabbed my jacket off the chair and hung my purse across my body, and Oliver’s hand went to my lower back as we walked to the front. He opened the door before I had time to reach for it, the wind hitting my face as soon as I stepped outside. And once I got out here, I saw it was completely different than when I’d first arrived.
Amsterdam felt alive.
“I’ll walk you back,” he said in my ear. He stared at me with a narrow gaze, breaking it for just a second to look at the commotion at his right and his left. “You’re not going by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine.” I lifted my hand to wave, and he caught it. And because I’d had the beer and tequila, my balance wasn’t the best, and his gentle tug caused me to stumble back.
“Chloe …” He caught me against his chest, his hands instantly cupping my face, thumbs grazing under my jaw, just like they always used to. “I’ve missed this, sweet girl.”
I stared at his lips, remembering the way they used to feel and how they’d tasted and how I was able to close my eyes and see the details of his smile. How his presence had felt like the safest, warmest place in the world.
How that heat and protectiveness was seeping over me right now.
Oh God.
I tried to take a breath, and his scent grabbed ahold of me, a tightness now moving into my chest. “Oliver …”