“Not yet, anyway,” Tom offered.
She kissed him. “Yeah, not yet.”
“I hope you’ve got plenty of spares.”
“Lots.”
“Good.”
They kissed slowly, staring into each other’s eyes in an intense, silent intimacy. “Are you OK?” he whispered.
More kisses were her first reply. Then, “I genuinely believe I’ve never been more OK than right now.”
“Do you need to sleep?” Tom asked.
She gave him a beautiful smile. “No... Do you?”
“Sleep,” he announced quietly, “is not what I need right now.”
Megan played along. “Hungry?”
Tom shrugged. “Not really.”
She tried again. “Need the bathroom?”
“Not urgently.”
She raised herself onto one elbow and leaned in to him, brushing his lips against her ear.
One more try. “Need to fuck me again?” she whispered.
Then he was on top of her, kissing her deeply as her legs opened to warmly embrace him, welcoming him between them, melting into the world of sex.
***
It took her a moment to define the feeling which came over her the moment she woke up.
It was a lightness, as if her heart had been swept by a refreshing breeze and opened, anew. There was a smile, out of nowhere. Just because. And then there was a deep, satisfied glow, down beneath her navel. It was a warm, curious feeling, a little as if someone had helpfully scratched an itch she’d been unable to reach. As if the need inside her – one she knew now as a powerful urge, for too long unaddressed – had been met. And in the most wonderful way possible.
Tom had stayed until nearly 3am. He hadn’t planned on it, but Erica’s post-midnight text had reassured them that her housemate would, herself, be enjoying some intimacy this evening and would not be back until morning. Megan hoped Erica had had as much fun as she had found with Tom, but was sceptical; doubtless, Erica would tell her all about it, and soon.
Just so you don’t expect all of my juicy details in return. Besides, I don’t know if I could put last night into words. Certainly not yet.
A yellow post-it note was attached to her alarm clock. “Send sexy breakfast text”. Megan reached for her phone with an irrepressible, naughty giggle.
Morning, Major Tom. Pleased to report all docking tests successfully completed. Results exceeded expectations. Requesting status of your rocket and ETA of next docking.
Piled in the corner, Megan noted sheepishly, were the two sets of bedsheets they had been obliged to discard during last night’s soaking wet love sessions. Tom had teased about it, but only a little and, as they lay together, had confessed that he loved her scent. Besides, they would never be short of lubricant, which was no bad thing.
Her phone beeped and Megan slid back under the covers to read Tom’s reply:
Good morning, mission control. Rocket status is ‘Go’, especially when receiving such positive reports on the docking tests. Rocket is ready for immediate lift-off, although the testing schedule necessitates a delay until tomorrow night. Confirm?
Megan’s smile became yet sultrier as she imagined his firm, beautiful rocket, ‘ready for immediate lift-off’.
Megan toyed with the idea of a selfie, but settled for a reply text intended to keep Tom hard all morning:
We both know it will be worth waiting for. But, right now, I can’t wait... Requesting permission for solo, manual docking.
She could imagine his laughter, the head-shaking disbelief of having finally experienced each other on this new level, a move which could have been anticipated but which seemed also so unlikely.
Permission granted.
Megan only had time to arrange her pillows and slip off her panties before another text arrived:
Oh, to hell with the rocketry talk... I want you to touch your gorgeous pussy for me, baby. Make yourself cum.
“Well, if you insist,” Megan purred, fingers finding her already moistened outer lips. One-handed, she typed:
Want to join me?
Megan pictured him deciding how to respond. It was a Sunday morning, so there was no need to rush to work, or even to wake Megan until much later...
Mmmm yes... I’m just in bed, relaxing... Naked... Let’s cum together, Megan. Like last night.
Both of the drawn-out encounters they had shared had ended in huge, mutual orgasms. It was a sign both of their sensitivity to each other – to her tensing muscles around him, to his throbbing and pulsing cock responding to her, to her rising, gasping cries – and of their desire to please one another. Megan lost count of the number of times Tom brought her to a moaning peak of gushing pleasure. Between their first sex session and their second, they made out so intimately, hungry for each other. Megan believed it would stay etched in her memory as the most wonderful sensations of her life.
Wish you were inside me again... Wish you could have stayed and you were waking up with me now... Mmm don’t wait baby... I’m not going to...
Tom was in no mood to delay, his arousal doubled by the knowledge of Megan’s own. She found a good rhythm, using both hands to allow fingers inside and on her clit, both. In her mind, he was not a text away, but right there, inside her, pushing her to yet another toe-curling climax.
Tom needed only to bring to mind the image of her going down on him, and his excitement rushed to the surface in thick, wet spurts.
Perfect way to start the day
Megan smiled and reached for her towel before replying.
We should start *every* day this way.
Tom was washing his hands and face, catching his own eye in the mirror and reveling in his own ready, genuine smile.
Suits me, lover. Text me later?
Megan headed for the shower, relieved that her bedsheets had survived this smaller, though no less pleasurable, episode. Best excuse for fresh sheets I’ve ever heard of.
Depend on it, Major Tom. Over and out.
***
“OK, just calm the fuck down.”
“Why should I?” Erica’s giddy delirium had bubbled to the surface even before Megan had shyly confessed to last night’s liaison. Her own date had gone far better than expected, and her partner had proved himself both a sensitive – and a remarkably muscular – lover, something to which Erica’s long-deprived body had responded with gusto.
“Just take it easy. We don’t even really know what’s going on.” Megan sat on the sofa, the picture of relaxed contentment amid Erica’s hysterical glee.
“Really? You don’t?”
“It was only our first time. It’s complicated, you know, his wife and Andrea and that goddamned brother of his...”
“Screw him!”
“Been there, done that,” Megan muttered.
“I mean, forget about him! This,” she repeated the word for emphasis, “this was the right choice. Not the playboy jet-setter. The dependable father. Kind, considerate.” She paused for a moment. “Hung like a stallion.”
“Erica!” Megan barked in admonition. “I’m not discussing that with you, OK? I don’t mind hearing about Mr. Muscles and his Shining Sword of Victory, but Tom and I have something different. It’s... well, I think it might be really special.”
“Why do you think I’m jumping around like a lunatic?!” Erica asked. “I know!”
“Well,” Megan offered, “I think you’re jumping around because you got jumped last night, and loved it.”
“Damn straight.” She grinned, stretched up to the ceiling, touched her toes, and took a seat next to Megan, arm in arm on the sofa. “The kind of guy who...”
“If you were me,” Megan interjected, “would you want to hear the end of this sentence?”
“Who...” Erica insisted, pushing on, “can just keep... on... going...” Erica’s hips re-lived the scene, her face a tiny review of last night’s unbridled fun. “Did Tom last a nice long time, too?”
Megan swatted her away. “No way,
you minx. I believe I’ve made myself clear on this.”
“Aww,” Erica protested like a spoiled child. “Just a little peek? How else do I know you’re not making it up.”
It came out before Megan’s mental filter had the chance to censor it. “The laundry’s a pretty good barometer.” Oh, for fuck’s sake, Megan.
Erica was a shuddering, giggling mess for a long time. Enjoy, housemate of mine. Enjoy.
The rest of the day was spent catching up on a long-ignored and embarrassingly full Inbox. Megan found new impetus, a new reason to share her life with people. She updated Facebook and emailed five different relatives and friends, all without mentioning Tom explicitly, but all expressed in such a cheerful, carefree tone that those who knew her well could be sure that she had found someone new.
***
Soon enough, they both knew, people would find out, either on their own, or because Megan or Tom would simply need to tell them. What to tell Andrea...? Well, that was one of the tough questions. Neither wanted to bring scary change into her life, and Tom hated any notion that Andrea might see Megan as trying to ‘replace’ her mother. They began to discuss whether or not to tell her during their very first week together. So far, they concluded, there wasn’t enough reason to bring up something so unpredictable and potentially unnerving. But if the weeks became months, they would certainly need to tell her.
It became something so routine that Andrea accepted seeing Megan a lot more in the evening at their house. Tom had made Megan promise to keep the noise to an absolute minimum, except on those rare occasions when Andrea was at a friend’s house; then they could fuck as recklessly as they both wanted to, and it never failed to revitalize Tom’s hardness when Megan moaned and gasped while touching herself for him, between bouts of sex.
Both knew that this was more than a sexual partnership. As the weeks progressed, it became very much more, a relationship with a good foundation, a lot of shared experience – both highs and lows – and a sharing of their lives which felt more natural by the day. As their one-month anniversary approached, Tom flirted briefly with the idea of offering Megan an engagement ring, but put the notion aside; there was no need to rush, and what more public an announcement of their being together could there be?
No, something quieter and more discrete was in order, and Tom chose the end of their ‘anniversary’ dinner to make his own statement. As dessert was cleared away and Tom’s heart bounced with anticipation and nervousness, he handed Megan a rectangular gift box. Megan tentatively opened it, and the expression on her face made Tom happier than anything had, in a long while.
“Jesus,” Megan exclaimed. “Fifteen years does change a few things.” Tom had given her a framed photo of their high school class, back in 11th grade. Megan had forgotten the day, but was delighted to see Tom standing right next to her, there in the middle of the back row.
“Some things change, some things stay just the same.”
That night, with Tom as ready for her as ever, they opened completely to each other and shared a passion as yet undiscovered. That was also the night they shared something else, those three special words which both had wanted to say for so long. Neither could hear them enough. They repeated them in bed, in the car, in a restaurant.
And they said them, endlessly, in bed. Megan heard them before he pushed her onto her front, spread her and took her once again from behind. He heard them as she knelt up and opened herself completely to him and Tom found the excitement of making love, for the very first time, in Megan’s ass. And again as they cuddled amid the afterglow of amazing sex.
Two days later, alone in her apartment and immersed anxiously in the business of finding herself a job, there was a knock at the door. Erica was out on an afternoon date with her new guy, and so Megan trotted downstairs to answer it.
There he was. All six foot two of blond-haired, blue-eyed gorgeousness, grinning at her.
“Hey, Megan,” he said brightly. “How have you been?”
It took a long while for Megan to be able to say anything at all. Then, “What… are you doing here, Jake?”
“Just checking in,” he said, glancing past her in the hopes of being invited in. “Wondered if you wanted to maybe grab a drink?”
Trouble in Paradise
Megan rarely had trouble believing her own eyes, but she found herself staring at Jake as though he had arrived from another dimension. It was his carefree nonchalance, a breezy attitude which did nothing to suggest that he had disappeared, without a word, without a call, after enticing Megan into the most passionate of relationships.
Where the hell have you been?
She still couldn’t bring herself to speak. His handsome smile and open-collared sexiness brought back far too many memories, far too quickly. Their first date and that Lamborghini, the ultimate in four-wheeled seduction; the expensive restaurant and the earnest way Jake had described his mission to help the developing world. And then the outrageous, rule-breaking first date sex on his kitchen counter. Megan shuddered inwardly at the thought of having given so freely of herself to a man who had taken, and taken, and then... well, nothing.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Megan managed after a silence so long and empty it had become acutely uncomfortable.
“Well, I hope it’s a nice surprise. I’ve been super busy the last few weeks and, well... I’m here to make it up to you.”
Megan’s eyebrows arched in wounded skepticism. “Really?”
“Of course,” he said, his tone softer now, less bombastic and confident. “We had a really good time together and wanted just to see if you...”
“I’m seeing someone,” Megan blurted without a moment’s thought.
“Ah.” Jake was knocked off his stride but, Megan found to her intense annoyance, not for long. He began again, striking a more sincere tone. “I don’t want you to think that I expect us just to...”
“Someone serious,” she added, hoping to derail Jake’s attempt to creep back into her affections. She didn’t know whether to find him crass, or absurd, or simply another thoughtless man whose decision-making took place largely in his pants.
“Well, I’m happy for you,” he offered. “Still, I’d like to catch up. Just a quick coffee.”
Megan took a deep, energizing breath. “Jake, I’m sorry, I can’t. I’d like it if you gave me space. You’ve been away for weeks,” she said, the hurt of his sudden disappearance adding an accusative edge to her voice, “and whatever your past relationships have been like, I’m not something you can turn on and off like a tap.”
Even if you are an evil genius when it comes to turning me on.
Megan silenced the lustful inner demon which, even now, amid pain and resentment, nudged her towards reconciliation. He’s not worth it, replied her better self. Let this one go. You’ve found the one you want.
“Megan, I’m sorry about that, really. It was just so crazy and hectic, with all the travel and I never meant to...”
“Sorry,” Megan snapped. “I won’t be going for coffee with you. And I’m working at the moment, so if you’ll excuse me?”
Jake was surprised, rather unpleasantly, by Megan’s unexpectedly assertive tone. He frowned slightly, ran fingers through his hair in a gesture of awkward discomfort, and then simply shrugged. “OK, Megan,” he said, and turned to walk away.
Even before he could glance back to see if she was watching him leave, Megan closed the door with a resolute thud.
***
Ten fruitless minutes later, she tossed down her pen on the pile of applications material on her desk and let out an exasperated groan.
“No ‘perfect job’ yet?” Erica asked, arriving fresh from the shower in her pink bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a matching pink towel.
“No, not yet. But that’s not even the problem.” Megan plopped her feet on the desk and leaned back in her office chair while Erica arranged herself on the sofa to paint her toenails. “Did you hear who was at the door?”
“You’re kidding?” Erica exclaimed when Megan had finished recapping events.
Megan shook her head bemusedly. “I wish I was.”
“How long has it been? Six weeks? Something like that?”
“About that,” Megan agreed wistfully. “Not a single text, and then he just shows up.”
Erica stared, open-mouthed. “The bastard!”
“You said it, girl.”
“What did he want?” Erica asked, genuinely astonished.
Megan sighed. “Me. What do you think?”
“To get back together?” Erica almost screamed. “Just like that?” she added, snapping her fingers.
The two sat in head-shaking disbelief. “It’s as though his mistakes are erased from his memory,” Megan concluded. “It’s the perfect way to live a truly remorse-free life.”
Erica was pissed. “He’s a child,” she argued. “You need to treat him like one. Send him to the naughty corner.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Megan assured her, “he knows full well that I won’t be spending time with him.”
“Good!” Erica said, thumping the coffee table. “You be strong. Think of what you have now. What the hell would Tom say if...”
“We’re not going to think about that,” Megan interjected firmly. “I’ve never tried to come between those two particular men, and I’m not about to now.”
“But what if Tom finds out? What if Jake says something?”
Megan stood and headed for her room. It was time to be alone, to think things through. “Then I’ll tell them both the truth, and anyone else who wants to know,” she said, checking the points angrily on her fingers: “I did nothing wrong, I didn’t cheat on anyone, I was never even slightly dishonest,” she said, pausing briefly before finding the last point in her list, “and Jake’s an asshole.”
“A huge one,” Erica agreed.
Megan puffed out her cheeks. “I’m gonna think about this.”
“I’m here if you need me,” Erica assured her as Megan closed the bedroom door.
The Billionaire Brothers Page 10