by Jamie Knight
“Do you want me?” he asked.
“Yes,” I cried, wanting desperately for him to finally take my virginity.
My brother’s best friend was more than happy to oblige. With a wild look on his handsome face, Aden pushed into me. There was a slight sting as he took my innocence, and then it was overcome by the pleasure of his big cock rubbing on my pussy walls.
Each gentle pull and tug was like heaven, giving me sensations down there that I had never experienced before. My whole body quivered. I wasn’t sure that I could take much more, but then he pushed in deeper, hitting my cervix and bringing a different type of pleasure to me.
All I could do was moan and push my hips into his. Aden was completely dominating me, body and soul, pounding his massive cock into my tight pussy. My lower lips held onto his cock as he pumped me, not wanting to let go. It felt so good to have him inside me, stretching me, but the pulling out brought the push back in, which was mind-blowing.
My cervix tingled. My abs tightened, as did my pussy walls that clamped down on Aden’s huge cock hard. It was like my body wanted to feel all of him, from the soft ripple of his cockhead to the stiffness of his shaft. Every flex he made, I felt it pressing against my inner walls, and the pleasure it brought me made me want to scream.
There was nothing like sex.
I wanted to do this with Aden every day.
The friction between us built. I was so wet, my thighs were slick. Aden’s dick glided in and out of me harder and faster. As he pumped, he grabbed my breasts tightly, running his hands over my nipples. Each touch sent an electric jolt through my body.
The tension in my abs built. My legs clamped around his waist. My toes curled. My head swam.
“Oh. My. God!” I screamed as my orgasm slammed into me hard enough to make my whole body jerk.
Repeatedly my body cramped down, releasing into a haze of tingles that ran from my pussy to my spine and up to my head. Grabbing at the table, I shook over and over, my butt slamming down onto the hardwood.
Aden kept hid cock buried in me with a vice-like grip on my hips. He bit his lip, trying not to cum as my pussy quivered around his shaft.
All too soon it was over. I wanted the moment to last much longer, but it didn’t.
Turning business-like, Aden eased his cock out of my pussy and brought it around to my mouth. Without a word form either of us, I took his cock halfway into my mouth and sucked him off until he unloaded down my throat. It came as a bit of a shock honestly, not only because of how much there was but that I still managed to get it all down.
It may have been foolish, but I thought Aden might invite me to stay the night. The sex had been pretty spur of the moment, but I’d hoped it might have had an emotional effect.
“I have to go,” he said, zipping up, looking away from me.
“W-what?” I asked, honestly not sure I’d heard him right.
I stood and pulled down my skirt.
“I have to go, I have plans. You should go home.”
“Plans?”
“I’m meeting a woman for drinks.”
“It’s only seven,” I argued. None of this made any sense. How could Aden possibly be meeting anyone else? Especially after just taking my virginity.
“None the less, I have to go.” Aden grabbed his leather coat and opened the apartment door.
I rushed to get my bra and shirt back on, carefully smoothing my skirt back down, fighting hard against the urge to cry. I was still wet from our sex. The taste of him was still in my mouth. He couldn’t kick me out now.
But he did.
Chapter Seven
Aden
The line between good and bad could be surprisingly blurry. I felt terrible about having misled Camilla, especially after taking her virginity. I was meeting a woman for drinks, but that woman was my cousin, Shae, who had just arrived in town.
However, I had intentionally worded it so that Camilla would misconstrue what I meant. A clear case of using my powers for evil. But evil was usually on a scale, and I was trying to account for the even greater ill of having fucked her in the first place. I really lost it to my desire, which was a clear mistake.
I may not have felt like a brother to her like Cooper insinuated, but I did feel a sort of protection. I had known Camilla since we were both kids, and the guilt of that came on full force. It was best to end anything that might form before it could begin. It would be better in the long run, even if it meant hurting her a bit now. We could be friends, that was all.
The bar I was meeting my cousin at was one of the nicer ones in town. Not exactly a champagne fountain kind of place but several steps above a dive. I didn’t want to shake Shae’s sensibilities too much. She had been a nurse for several years and had seen it all, but I still tried to make things as easy on her as possible. This was especially true now that she has just gotten done with a nasty divorce.
If there was anything my time in the military taught me, it was just because you can handle a situation, it wasn’t healthy to do it too much. It struck me as kind of funny, honestly. The professional and healer and the professional soldier both suffering similar damage.
Shae was already at the bar when I arrived. She must have used GPS. My cousin was easy to spot. The bubble gum pink ponytail she still sported, despite being in her late twenties, practically glowing in the near dark.
“What’s new, pussycat?”
“Really?” Shae asked, cocking a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“What’s the story, morning glory?”
She laughed. “A bit better. At least your getting into the right generation.”
“What are you having?”
“Brown cow.”
“Good choice.”
“Brown cow,” the bartender said, putting the tumbler down in front of Shae.
“Thanks,” Shae said, it being unclear where the gratitude was directed.
“What will you have?” the bartender asked, noticing me.
“Rum and diet coke and put an umbrella in it.”
“Funny,” the bartender said, without a shred of humor. He stalked away, presumably to make my drink.
“Still avoiding sugar?” Shae asked, taking a sip of her chocolaty-looking drink.
“Yep.” I sat on the barstool next to her.
“Good, health-wise, I would mean.”
“So, I’m told.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” Shae asked.
“Sure, lots of people.”
She shook her head. “No, I mean—”
“I know and no. I’m trying the Larkin method.”
“The what?”
“The Larkin method. Named after the Canadian cartoonist Beau Larkin who, in addition to being a genius, was notoriously reclusive and famously celibate. He pretty much disappeared in the early ‘80s.”
“Great role model,” Shae said snarkily. She rolled her eyes.
“You haven’t seen his work. If being a celibate recluse helps you create at that level, sign me up!”
The bartender came back with my drink and slid it over. It didn’t have an umbrella. I was a little disappointed.
“Can’t really argue with that. I saw your most recent ad.”
“You looked me up?”
“You sent your mom a copy for Christmas. She showed it to mine and so on.”
“Oh yeah. What did she think?”
“She was impressed. I’m not sure she quite got all of it, but the animation was excellent.”
“Thanks.”
“Statement of fact,” she said deadpan.
“Of course.”
I still couldn’t help being touched; this being the closest thing to praise it was possible to get out of Shae, who had always been the most practical person in my immediate circle. Including my parents.
“Do remember Camilla and Cooper Jones?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“We are working together now.”
“You’re own company?” Shae asked, perking
up.
“That would be nice, but no. Cooper and I are the main graphic designers, and Camilla was just hired as a receptionist.”
“How’s that working out?” Shae asked, clearly remembering what Cooper used to be like.
My cousin had been around a lot when I was younger since my mother and hers were very close.
“Cooper is his usual charming self, but it is working out better than I might have expected.”
“Well, there’s an upside.”
“You haven’t heard the best part.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Camilla now lives down the hall from me in the same apartment building.”
“No shit?”
“Not a spec. Do you want to see her?” I asked, downing a gulp of my drink.
I wasn’t acting entirely out of altruism. I certainly wanted to help my little cousin make friends if I could, but it was also partly selfish. I was hoping that Camilla would get so busy with Shae as a new friend that she wouldn’t have as much time for me. It might also help her forgive me, as I figured caramel eclairs likely wouldn’t do the trick this time. I didn’t feel good about it, and I felt even worse when I realized that this is precisely how Cooper would have wanted me to feel if he had known what I had done with Camilla.
When we were finished with our drinks, I drove Shae back to the apartment building. Not that Shae was particularly tipsy. She just didn’t know where I lived. The elevator was out of commission when we arrived, so the stairs it was. I was suddenly glad that I only lived on the fourth floor.
Walking up to Camilla’s door, I knocked lightly, hoping she wasn’t furious still. After a long pause, I started to think that she might not be home, then I heard noises inside. I tried knocking again. When Camilla finally opened the door, she looked like she might have been crying. I hadn’t even realized that she was wearing mascara.
“What the fuck do you want?” Camilla demanded, locking me with what I immediately recognized as a death stare.
“I-I would like you to see someone,” I managed.
“I have no interest in meeting your sluts,” she said, slamming the door so hard it echoed down the hall.
I raised my fist to knock again, but Shae took me gently by the wrist, stopping me. We may have only been cousins, but she could read me like a blog. She frowned at me when I looked at her and shook her head.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I said, letting out a big sigh and turning back toward my apartment door.
“It’s fine. I’ve heard worse than that, and she didn’t really mean it.”
“How can you tell?” I asked.
“That wasn’t anger,” Shae explained.
“It wasn’t?” I asked, pretty sure I knew anger when I saw it.
My cousin rolled her eyes at me like I was an idiot. “No, it was passion, the girl in 4B either really hates you or really loves you to give that kind of reaction. I don’t think she hates you, or you wouldn’t have tried to reintroduce us.”
I was stunned into even more profound silence by the thought that Camilla might really love me. Lust was one thing and something she had made clear with her recent behavior, but love?
Shae was right, of course. When I thought about it, Camilla didn’t really look mad, more hurt and defensive. And it wasn’t only because she would have reasonably assumed that Shae was my girlfriend or at least a one-night stand. I wondered if Cooper had told her about my man-whore past. If he had, his little sister’s reaction made even more sense. I tried to deny it in the moment, but I knew in the back of my head that it was futile.
“Love? You think?” I asked.
“Definitely,” Shae said, taking off her coat.
“Beer?” I asked, heading towards the fridge.
“Please, I’m not nearly drunk enough to erase the day I’ve had.”
“Want to talk about it?” I asked, getting a bottle of stout out of the fridge.
“No. I’d rather know what’s going on with Camilla. What the heck did you do to her?”
“Nothing that I know of,” I lied, popping the lid and sliding the bottle over to her as we sat at the dining room table. The same table I had taken Camilla on just hours before.
“Hooey.”
“Okay, you got me.”
“So, spill,” Shae said, before taking a long sip.
“Well, I can’t be sure, but I think Camilla might have had a crush on me since we were kids. I mean actual kids. She was seven, and Cooper and I were eleven when we all met. Even then, she would always try to hang out with me. I didn’t notice her then, of course, and she was still only fourteen when I left for the army, so I really didn’t think much about it. I mean, Cooper told me, but I thought he was kidding.”
“Apparently not,” Shae said.
“Right. Anyway, the new owner of the office brought Camilla in as the new receptionist a couple of days ago. She was insatiable and wouldn’t take no for an answer. That doesn’t make it right. I still shouldn’t have done it but—”
“You fucked her, didn’t you?”
I sighed. Shae had always been pretty blunt. Sometimes she was even too direct, but to be honest, it helped to have a cousin I could talk to about anything.
“Today, right before I came to meet you.”
“So, that’s why she looked like she was crying.”
“Most likely, yeah. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Any of it really.”
“I believe it,” Shae said, much to my surprise.
“You do?”
She nodded. “Of course. I remember what she was like as a kid, too. I also just saw the woman that she grew up into. I can see how it was unintended and also why you gave in to temptation.”
I sat back into my seat. “That’s about it, yeah.”
“Want my advice?”
“Please.”
“You need to decide if you want her or not. If you want her, go for it. Straight up. No bullshit, no excuses, no what-ifs. Including what Cooper might think. He doesn’t own either of you. If you don’t want her, then stop. Make Camilla understand it is never happening and stop torturing her. Make sure it is clear. The last thing she needs right now is mixed signals.”
I smiled at my cousin. “How did you get to be so smart?”
“Genetics and experience,” Shae said casually.
We talked a while longer, and Shae had a few more beers. Actually getting to the point of tipsy.
“You want the couch?” I asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a hotel until my apartment is ready. It’s in a casino, so I got an outstanding deal. Good thing, I don’t actually gamble. I might come down to the office tomorrow to see Camilla properly. Especially so, she knows that I’m not your girlfriend.”
“That would be really helpful, thanks.”
“Your welcome.” I gave her a fist bump.
“Though I would suggest bringing Ellis’s signed NFL helmet if you’ve still got it,” I told her, referring to her horrid ex and his main obsession. Shae might need the helmet to protect herself from Camilla’s rage.
My cousin laughed brightly. “I pawned it the day after we got divorced, only got like twenty bucks.”
We were both still laughing as she left for her uber and shut the door.
Chapter Eight
Camilla
I was still fuming when I woke up the next morning. If I had one overall talent at that time, it was holding a grudge. I liked to chalk it up to my fiery, Irish genes and artistic temperament. Most people just thought I was a bit of a bitch.
My teeth were still gritting as I made breakfast. Just one serving all for me. Just to drive the point home to Aden, that he couldn’t jerk me around and get away with it. If he wanted any more of my practically perfect in every way cinnamon French toast, he would just have to lump it.
Filled up with the best of my culinary abilities, I put on the least attractive outfit I could find—hot pink yoga pants with a mint green hoodie and brown crocs. I had no one to impress any
more and figured I might as well be comfortable. It wasn’t like Ryan was going to fire me for not following the non-existent dress-code. Besides which, the company apparently had a reputation for being casual. A notion only reinforced by the dedicated ping-pong table and the vintage arcade machines in the break room.
I was at the office first as I always was. The design staff wandering in as close to nine as they could manage, time being a more flexible concept within the company’s walls. Ryan didn’t seem to care much how the work was done as long as it was finished on schedule. The schedule was part of my job to keep in order. A fact which filled me with a sense of pride and power.
When Aden came in, I completely blanked him, eyes fixed firmly on the comic book Carlos had suggested. It was actually pretty good. I knew it was Aden because I could smell him getting off the elevator. I didn’t even know that they made Eddie Bauer’s Pure anymore, but he had apparently found enough to bathe in the stuff. It was a crisp, pleasant smell, but I was training myself to hate it.
I knew his whore didn’t stay last because I watched through the peephole for her to leave. Not my finest moment but it seemed like a good idea at the time. He must have kicked her out like he had done to me. I figured he’d come in with a spring in his step after getting laid twice in one night. I never would have said it out loud, but the pink-haired girl was pretty cute.
Though from what I could tell, Aden wasn’t smiling as he came in. Not that I cared. It served him right.
“Why didn’t you bring over breakfast?” he actually had the nerve to ask.
I just glared at him, resisting the urge to bludgeon him with my stapler until he walked off.
But he didn’t just walk away. No sir. He fucking chuckled at me as he did so. I was overtaken with a sudden and childish urge to throw my pen at him. It bounced off his broad back, barely making a sound.
“Sorry, it slipped,” I said, picking it up off the floor.
We locked in a hard stare, that is, until the sound of Cooper’s voice, coming out of his office while talking to a client, made us separate and return to our corners.