by Shayne Ford
Oh, how I wish today were Saturday.
Reality grimaces at me. It never plays my hand.
Quietly, I sigh with resignation and set my eyes on the view unfurling across the large windows. Pale morning light streams through the glass, the noise of the street drifting from below.
I wish I could sleep some more, but sleep seems to be elusive at the moment.
Another sigh leaves my lips. I’m tired and wired up, and now turned on.
My life has slipped out of control lately, and uncertainty has become an undesirable constant in my existence, especially since I’ve embraced the idea of living a secret life with him.
But this has to do with more than him. It’s about my work and life and the fact that everything seems to be a bit foggy at the moment.
I wish I could take a step back, gain some perspective, and think about the things that–– now I feel, escape my control.
I hate the idea of not knowing what the future brings and how this story would play out.
Some things need to happen when it comes to Tiago and me, for us to have the slightest chance at something real, of which the most important one would be, to tell the truth about us to James and Rain, yet I don’t want to think about it at this moment.
Things are complicated enough between James and Tiago, even without me playing a role.
But for now... This is perfect.
Tiago is a world of its own–– a world that sucks me in and teaches me that there is no gravitational force when it comes to him.
I check the time again on my phone as if the seconds would flow faster if I pester them enough.
The truth is, I’m not going to be able to sleep anymore. I should probably leave, and go about my business, but I find it difficult when my mind, my body, and my heart are impregnated with him.
Last night comes back to me in vivid snippets of exquisite pleasure along with the elusive dream of having a different life with him, away from here, perhaps. All of my dreams bluntly interfering with my common sense.
For a few seconds, I close my eyes, reliving a moment from last night––his body crashing into mine, his lips on me as he was drawing pleasure from my body.
I tilt my hips, oh, so slightly, just as he splays his fingers across my inner thigh and softly strokes it.
I turn to stone, my breath catching in my throat as I feel his knuckles drifting, brushing the wetness lined soft swollen flesh, pulsing now between my legs.
He moves his hand with earnest control as if he walks into awareness.
Smoothly, he rolls to his side as well, spooning me, his chest lining my back, his legs tangling with mine as I feel his hand wrapping around his full erection and slowly pushing it into me.
“Good morning,” he murmurs against the back of my hair.
“Good morning,” I say, smiling softly, and forgetting for a moment that today is not Saturday, and we are nowhere close to the sunny coast of Portugal.
It’s Friday, the second week of January, cold, nasty weather battering the gray streets of Manhattan. And yet, it’s warm inside, his place is cozy, and his bed is soft while his body is warm against mine. The feeling of him rocking his hips against my backside, and sliding into me at a slow pace, makes me shudder with pleasure, removing the possibility of thinking seriously about reality.
“I need to leave soon,” I say.
“You can go straight to work from here.”
“I need to change first.”
“What’s wrong with your dress? Oh, wait... There is no dress.”
My heart skips a beat. Oh... I forgot about my dress.
I move against him, his arm instantly locking me in place.
“My––”
“Don’t worry,” he says before I have the chance to voice my concern.
“I have nothing to wear. How do I get home?”
“I’ll take you home.”
“I still need to put something on.”
“We’ll figure something out. There’s still time.”
His voice is calm and steady as is his touch and pace, the energy he wraps me with dissolving my worries for the moment.
Besides, he makes it impossible to think about it when he pushes up to his elbow and slides his knee up to mine.
Spreading his legs, he finds the perfect angle to penetrate me.
And oh... He does.
Moving his body, he fills me up, working me in ways that make me grip the sheets and crush my chest against the pillow, my nipples hard as pebbles underneath.
He runs his hand beneath my hair, sweeps it all to the side and starts kissing the back of my neck while he rams into me.
Harder and harder, every thrust making me breathe faster.
One hand goes to my chest, kneading my breasts harshly while his teeth leave marks on my neck.
For a moment, panic rips through me as I imagine myself walking into my office, my neck a smorgasbord of hickeys.
My thought flies away like a bird swept away by storm when I feel him throbbing inside me.
His chest burns against my back, his arm closing hard around me.
“I’m there...” I murmur as he gives me the hardest thrusts and shoots his load against my dripping walls.
6
TIAGO
“I’ve never done this in my life,” she says while I set a plate with food in front of her.
Her eyes dip to the cheese omelet for a moment.
She seems distracted.
“Coffee?” I ask.
She brings her blue gaze to me.
“Portuguese, please?”
“Portuguese it is.”
I set the machine for an espresso before I fill a small saucepan with milk, and put it on the stove.
“You haven’t done what first?”
“I’ve never walked home dressed like this,” she says, lifting her arms and looking down.
I run my eyes on her.
My dress shirt fits her loosely, covering her chest and part of her backside but nothing else.
“No one will notice. We walk across the lobby, climb into my car, take a few steps into your building before we enter your apartment and we’re done. Besides, you’ll have your coat on.”
Smiling, she looks down and starts to eat.
“What’s amusing?”
She chews slowly.
“The way you make me feel,” she says, lifting her eyes to me.
Right behind her, the morning light lines the windows.
It’s a gloomy day with a gray sky, wisps of fog and snow flurries, yet her blue eyes remind me of the sparkling sea and the hot summer.
I finish preparing the coffee, pour two cups, and slide them onto the counter.
“You’re not eating?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“I’m not hungry,” I say, taking a seat next to her at the bar counter.
“How do I make you feel?” I ask before I tilt my cup against my lips and take a sip of coffee.
I sense her stare on my profile.
“Reckless and wild.”
I set my cup down and look at her, my elbows resting on the sleek surface of the counter.
“You are wilder than I thought and this...” I say, pointing to her scantily clad body, “is not being reckless.”
She smiles. Her mouth is full as she gestures with her fork and speaks.
“Easy for you to say. I’m the one who has no clothes.”
I toss her a crooked grin.
“I told you that we were going on a proper date.”
She laughs.
“I know... Dinner, sex, and more sex. And when we’re done, more sex.”
“You got that right.”
She swallows the last piece of food, runs a napkin across her lips, and drinks water before she sips coffee.
“Mmm... It’s good.”
She pivots to me, her hand sliding up my thigh.
“The truth is, you make me forget everything,” she mutters seriously t
his time.
She leans closer as I shift into my seat to face her.
Her smile withers away.
“I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but you are the last man I thought would enter my life. I never envisioned someone like you. Not because you aren’t special but because I couldn’t imagine that you would cross paths with me.”
“I guess fate played a role.”
“I guess it did...”
Her voice trails off as she suddenly seems preoccupied with something else.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” she says curtly before she shifts her gaze to her phone and checks the time. “We should go. I don’t want to be late.”
I push off the barstool and grab the keys.
In the hallway, I help her put on her coat before I shrug into a leather jacket.
“Ready?” I ask, my eyes going down her legs.
“Yes.”
I take her hand and walk her out of my apartment, her perfume, lingering behind us, a floating cloud in the air.
“Do you have to be somewhere?” she asks as we walk into the elevator and start descending.
“The gym in the morning and a couple of business meetings after that,” I say, without looking at her.
She studies me in silence all the way to the first floor.
I shift my eyes to her.
“I’ll pick you up from work?”
A faint smile colors her lips.
“Okay.”
Twenty minutes we navigate the morning traffic, which is worse today because it’s Friday. We make it to her place around seven-thirty.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask as she unlocks the door of her apartment.
She steps in. I stop in the entryway.
“Yes,” she says, shrugging out of her coat and setting it on a hanger.
My gaze drifts down her legs as she turns her back to me for a moment. She spins around, wraps her arms around my neck, presses her frame against my chest, and gives me a soft kiss.
Smiling, I break away from her and start pivoting away.
“Wait,” she says.
I shift back to her.
“I need to give your shirt back,” she says, a small smile glinting in her eyes.
Slowly, she unbuttons my shirt and peels it off her shoulders before she lets it slide down and steps out of it. My eyes drift down all the way to her heels.
She picks it up and hands it to me, and I take it from her hand, yet my eyes can’t peel away from her naked body.
She takes a step forward and with that motion, her tits move, and her thighs rub against each other, and my eyes go straight to her sex while hot blood starts flushing my dick.
The ding of the elevator door echoes on the hallway, the sound of voices coming our way or perhaps moving away, but it’s hard to tell right now, and even harder to give a damn.
I walk in and close the door behind me, tension setting in my groin. With one hand I pick up my dress shirt, with the other righting my erection.
It takes one second to lift my eyes to her and toss her a knowing smile before I drop my shirt on the wall table and shove my hand into her hair.
My back hits the door, her tits crushed against my chest, my mouth finding hers in a split second.
Goosebumps grow beneath my touch as I run my hand down on her back, grab her butt and knead it.
I unzip my fly with my free hand.
My clothes–– my jeans, my top, and my jacket are cold, but my shaft is churning heat in her hand and starts throbbing as she sucks on my tongue.
With one curt gesture, I shed my jacket and slide my top over my shoulders.
They both hit the floor.
Holding her with one arm, I keep kissing her while I unbuckle my belt, my jeans slipping slightly lower enough to free my rock hard erection.
She falls to her knees just as her neighbors–– a couple of women from what I gather, stop in front of her door and start chattering.
I look down at her while she stares up at me, panic flickering through her eyes.
“Keep doing what you’re doing...” I say quietly.
She swallows half of my length and starts sucking on me, her hands moving up and down.
She’s rushed and tense. Her face is flushed.
“That’s good,” I say, my hand sliding into her hair, her grip on me making me scale up way faster than I’d like.
She hurries, the thrill and panic sweeping through her as the women keep blabbering behind her apartment door.
My eyes meet hers as her hand makes a twisting motion, her tongue swirling, rubbing the underside of my crown, sweeping a bead of pre-cum from my tip before she swallows it ecstatically.
“Good girl...” I murmur, giving her a smile that makes her grin around my cock.
She takes me deeper and deeper while I rock my hips against her face, hitting the back of her throat several times.
This is for sure not the best time to make her experience something new, but I grab the back of her hair, straighten my back and tilt my hips, pushing my hard meat into her mouth, making her take me even more.
She doesn’t make the slightest sound, her eyes glistening.
“Fucking good...” I say, cupping and stroking her face, teasing her bottom lip with my thumb.
Holding her head against my thrusts, I do it again and again, her gag reflex not kicking in–– the feeling that she almost chokes on me turning her on as much as it turns me on.
Her face turns crimson, her eyes flashing the wildest look as she deep throats me in front of the door, two women conversing a few feet away from us.
No sound leaves her chest or mine, except for the whisper of our breaths as we tense up.
She cups my balls and strokes them, and as I try to pull away from her, she makes it clear she doesn’t want to stop when the sound of her name travels through the door.
“We should ask Eve Malone,” one of the women says.
“She must’ve left for work already.”
“No, no. She just came home. I saw her a few minutes ago walking into the building with a man.”
My gaze tips down.
I don’t think Eve has heard the last part, or maybe she has, and that makes her even more determined to suck me off.
Her mouth goes down on me until my crown hits the back of her throat again when the doorbell rings.
Fuck, no.
She doesn’t stop.
I can’t stop either.
The two women talk a little more before they ring the bell again and start knocking on the door, calling out Eve’s name this time.
I soak her in as she looks at me with hazy eyes, out of it completely. She sucks on me, her head moving at a pace that makes me hard as steel.
“Don’t stop,” I mouth to her, not that she shows any intention to.
The women seem to be giving up after a few moments, and soon their dialogue starts fading away when I grab her hair and tear her mouth away from me, yanking her up. I bend her over the wall table in the hallway and enter her with full force.
A crying moan falls from her lips before I clamp my hand over her mouth–– she moans and groans to her heart delight.
Once the silence is restored around us, I pound her, pulling her hair back, and making her arch for me. Her legs tremble, and her hips start shaking, her clenching telling me that she just climaxed and now she’s about to come again.
The rhythmic sound of the table hitting the wall echoes in the hallway as I ram her with force.
For the next few moments, she trains her eyes on the mirror and watches me with hooded eyes as I rock my hips and enter her long, not stopping until my load drips from inside her and starts trickling down her legs.
7
EVE
My life has become a beautiful chaos is the thought that bounces around in my head as I climb out of Tiago’s car and take a few steps toward the entrance of the building where I work.
It’s nine fifteen, and I’m la
te.
It’s the worst possible day to be late because today, Friday, it’s my bosses’ last day. And besides the typical Friday’s hectic schedule–– the weekly reports that need to be logged in and the conference calls I need to be on, there’s a farewell lunch scheduled at twelve o’clock.
And yet, I can’t stop smiling as I remember that only an hour or so ago, I couldn’t get enough of him.
Not to mention that a few moments ago, I had my arms looped around his neck, my nostrils filled with his scent, and my cheek pressed against his face while he held me in his arms.
I was melting, my body vibrating for him... still.
Oh... And speaking of my body.
My body doesn’t want to go to work right now.
It wants to lie naked next to him in his bed, cuddle with him if all possible.
'Hangover' is the word that comes to mind, a little voice in my head berating me already for acting recklessly, and spending almost the entire night tangled with him one way or another, and then, asking him for more of the same early in the morning, when I should’ve got ready for work.
Moments after he fucked me in the hallway, I reluctantly let myself emptied of him and walked, bereft, to the bathroom.
He waited for me while for the next half an hour or so, I went through the motions–– took a shower, and put some clothes on. I don’t remember much since I was in a daze, and my thoughts were scrambled, but my smile–– like now, didn’t break away from my lips.
The fact that I feel horribly uncomfortable in my work clothes tells me that I’ve probably picked the wrong ones and haven’t paid much attention to what I was throwing on me.
I look down for a moment.
Things seem to be in order. I’ve settled for a grey pencil skirt, a white poplin shirt, and a blue cardigan.
Not bad at all, if it wasn’t for the pain I feel underneath. I hope I can sit on my butt or else I’m screwed.
I glance over my shoulder one last time as I feel Tiago’s stare on my back. He wants to make sure that I’m okay, and that’s a comforting thought. I wave at him, and he nods in response before he smoothly steers the car away.
Keeping my eyes on his ride, I push through the revolving doors and enter the lobby, my mind still tangled in this story, my memory playing the film of the last twenty-four hours.