by Maria Monroe
"Hello?" I say pressing the intercom button.
"Let me up, Lia."
Julian. Oh my god. What is he doing here?
"Bossy," I mutter into the intercom but press the button anyway. I open the door and step into the hallway, where I hear the front door opening, but also another apartment door opening below me.
"Who are you?" It's Jace's voice, Jenna's boyfriend, confronting Julian in the hallway. Oh god. This is going to be good.
"I'm a friend of Lia's. Who the fuck are you?" Julian’s voice is low and angry.
Before Jace can respond, I rush down the stairs. "It's OK, Jace. Thanks. Julian's my friend."
Jace gives Julian a long stare before looking back to me. "Just looking out for you," he says.
"I know. Thanks. And thanks for earlier. You're the best."
"Goodnight," he replies, shutting the door with a final look at Julian.
"You don't need to be such an asshole," I hiss at Julian as I start back up the stairs.
I can hear him following me. "You tell me someone may have been in your apartment, and then some hopped up muscle guy is trying to be your bouncer? I have every right to be an asshole."
We're at my front door now, and I enter the apartment. He comes in without waiting for an invite, slamming the door behind him.
"He's my neighbor's boyfriend, all right? They helped me earlier when I was freaking out about someone being here."
"Why didn't you call me right away?"
"Why would I have called you?"
"Because I'm…" His voice trails off, the unspoken conclusion to that sentence unclear.
"You're what?" I whisper. "My friend? My boss?"
He shakes his head, taking a step closer to me. "I'm unable to get you out of my mind."
"Oh." The word is a mere whisper, all the anger and fear of the evening leaving my body as I utter that one syllable.
"I keep promising myself I'm going to stay away from you. That I'm going to stop thinking about you. But it's fucking impossible, Lia." He takes another step closer.
"Wait." I'm breathless, but I stop, step back. "I can't, Julian. What about Scarlet?"
"Done. We broke up," he answers, closing the distance between us that I just created. "What about the hockey player?"
I shake my head. "It's nothing. So nothing we haven't even made out."
"That guy downstairs?"
I laugh out loud at that. "Jealousy looks good on you, Julian!" I tease. "He's my downstairs neighbor's boyfriend."
"So then…" His words trail off.
"Then what?"
"Then there's absolutely nothing stopping us." He stares down at me, like he's waiting for me to respond.
I stare at his lips, and my own tingle as I think about how it would feel to kiss him right now. How that scruff on his jaw would bristle under my fingers. How I'd run my hand through his hair. He's wearing a cable knit off-white sweater that makes his eyes look greener than ever, and I want to slide my hands under that sweater, want to feel his chest, his hard abs. Those jeans he's got on? I’m dying to run my finger along the edge, where the denim meets his skin. To grasp his zipper between my thumb and forefinger and pull it down, feel his hardness beneath my hand. I want…
"What happened to your shirt?" he asks, interrupting my fantasy, and changing the tone from desirous to teasing.
I look down at the red wine staining my tank top. "Oh. I was a little jumpy and I spilled when the doorbell rang."
"Sorry." But he doesn't look sorry at all. One corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk and he tilts his head slightly, his eyes glinting.
"You don't sound sorry. And you don't look sorry."
He takes another step closer so he's right up against me now. When he touches my neck gently with one finger I gasp. "Looks like you're still jumpy," he says, his voice so low I can hear the vibrations in the air between us.
"You make me…"
"What do I make you?" Now he traces my lips with his finger, the touch so light I close my eyes for a second to control myself.
Hot? Wet? Ready? "Scared," I finally whisper.
"Then tell me when to stop." He lowers his lips to mine, gentle for about two seconds, and then kissing me, hard and rough, after that.
And I'm done. Sold. His. This kiss is enough to convince me, body and mind, that I want Julian, even if all I can have is tonight. I'll put tomorrow, and all the other tomorrows, out of my head if I can just have this right now. Right here.
"I don't want you to stop," I whisper, and now I do touch him, running my hand up under his sweater like I only fantasized about before. Ripples of muscle tighten under my touch, and I caress his skin, feeling my way around to his back, then grab his ass and pull him against me. He's huge. Hard. Just like I remember. Just like I've thought about so many times over the past few years.
"Lia," he murmurs, kissing me again, desperate and hungry. Our tongues are searching, spurring us on. If he was hard before, he's even more so now, and I can feel just how excited as he pushes against me. "I think," he adds, pushing away from me and smiling, his eyes mischievous, "that I need to get you out of that wet shirt."
"You're right," I murmur. "You know, so I don't catch a cold or whatever."
"Or whatever," he growls, grasping the hem of my shirt and ripping it up and over my head in one quick movement. He stands back and stares at me, my body hot, aroused, waiting. "You," he whispers. "You're even more fucking beautiful than I remember."
"Let's see what you've got," I say, trying to be sassy even though I'm about to melt into a puddle on my living room floor this exact second.
Without a word he grasps the bottom of his sweater, forearms crossed, and peels it up and off. Oh my god. He is gorgeous, his chest defined, his six-pack begging—seriously begging—for me to trace each ridge and swell. And the best—the very best—is those muscles above his hip bones, the one that form a v where his jeans sit just below his abs.
He sees me looking and smirks at me, but then his face gets serious. "Look at me, Lia," he says.
My eyes meet his, which are so filled with desire. I wonder if mine look the same way.
"Do you want to stop this?"
I shake my head. That's exactly the opposite of what I want.
He utters a groan, so quiet I almost don't hear it, and grabs me once more. This time he's not gentle at all; his hands move to my ass, pulling me hard against his arousal. One of his hands moves up, then slips inside the back of my sweat pants, grasping my butt then touching, but only barely, my wetness. I grind against him involuntarily, my body acting on instinct alone to get more from him. To have him touch me. To have him inside me. It's all I want. It's all I've wanted for longer than I care to admit.
My fingers fumble at his belt buckle, unable to undo it quick enough, and he laughs at my efforts, but his laughter is filled with lust. Once I get the buckle undone, it's only seconds before I've finished with his button and zipper, and now I can feel his cock straining against my hand. I slip my hand inside the opening in the front of his boxers and feel, finally, his velvet-soft skin covering his hard-as-steel dick.
"Fuck, Lia," he says as I touch him gently with my fingers, then grasp him as well as I can even though his clothes are still mostly on. He bends his head to my right nipple, sucking it lightly, then stopping to blow on it gently. It feels like torture, the need for his touch strong but his gentle ministrations not enough.
"Julian," I moan. What I mean is more.
"What, baby?" he whispers, leaning down once more and sucking hard on my nipple.
I gasp, my pussy trembling with desire. I'm wet, so wet, right now.
"Do you like that, Lia?" he asks, his voice teasing.
I nod.
"Say it, Lia."
"I like when you do that," I moan as he bites my nipple gently, pulling on it with his teeth.
"You know what else you're going to like?" he asks, kissing my neck, then my ear, then my lips.
"What?" I whisper a
gainst his mouth.
"You're going to like it when I take you into your bedroom, strip you naked, and fuck you all. Night. Long."
Oh god. "Yes," I whisper.
He lifts me up, his cock pressing against my pussy as I wrap my legs around him, and carries me down the hall to my room. He lays me gently on the bed, but that's where his gentleness ends. He tugs my sweat pants down in one quick movement, leaving me exposed on the bed.
At the end of the bed he stands staring at me. His eyes are burning with heat, his body taut with desire.
"Take off your jeans, Julian," I murmur.
In an instant he's pushed them down and off, and he does the same with his boxers so he's naked. Gorgeous. God-like, and I mean that literally. And huge, his cock straining up, hard and thick. Even from here, I can see a drop of cum on the tip, a bead of desire, and I know exactly how it would taste. Salty. Bitter. And completely intoxicating. Just like Julian.
He climbs onto the bed, then moves on top of me, kissing me savagely. I can barely breathe, the knowledge that he's going to be inside of me, filling me up, so much to contemplate.
"I haven't been with anyone," I whisper against his lips.
"What?" he murmurs, hands running down, flattening against my stomach. One hand slides lower, fingers teasing my wet folds open, then gently, too gently, caressing my clit.
It's hard to speak, my body humming with want. "I haven't been with anyone else," I repeat. "I haven't slept with anyone. Since college. Since you."
He pulls away from me, propping himself over me on his strong, muscled arms. "You were a virgin when I slept with you."
I nod. "You're the only one I've ever been with."
He closes his eyes for a few seconds, then opens them with a curse. "Fuck, Lia. Just when I thought I couldn't want you even more," he growls, and his fingers find my pussy again, sliding into my wetness, then moving to my clit, which he massages in gentle but relentless circles.
I cling to his shoulders as he touches me, my body writhing against the bed.
"Do you know what I've missed more than anything?" he whispers, sliding two fingers inside of me so I moan out loudly.
"What?"
"The way you taste, Lia. Nothing else comes close." He moves down my body, leaving a trail of kisses on my stomach, my hips, until his tongue touches my clit. He sucks on it gently at first, then harder.
"Julian," I moan, already on the brink. I think I've been on the brink since the last time I saw him two and a half years ago.
"I'm going to make you come," he says, his breath hot on my thighs. "I've been thinking about this for so long."
Me too, I think, as his tongue flicks over my clit, then moves lower to lap at my pussy. In seconds I'm breathless. Delirious. Reduced to my desire alone as he continues to push me higher and higher. I try to hold back, try to hold onto the delicious feeling of just-about-to-come as long as possible, but eventually it's impossible. I explode, my eyes closing hard so all I see is fireworks upon the insides of my shut eyelids. The room is spinning; my body is soaring. I've never come this hard or this fast, and it's never lasted this long. I buck against his mouth, and he keeps licking me, but slower now, then even slower, until he stops, gently caressing me between my legs with his hand, so big and warm.
"God, Julian, oh my god," I whisper.
He moves up my body, languidly touching me as he goes, and whispers, "You taste so good, Lia," before he kisses me, his lips salty from my cum.
I bite his lip, then suck it, my body still shuddering from the out-of-this-world climax I just had.
"I can't believe you haven't been with anyone else." His eyes are hot, burning, but there's wonder in them too.
I can feel his cock, rock-hard, between my legs. I don't how to explain to him that this right here—this exact feeling—is something I knew I couldn't find with anyone else. So I didn't bother trying.
"I dated guys," I say. "But I didn't want them. Not the way I wanted you. It was never the same." I'm admitting too much, opening my soul too wide, but right now I don't care.
He angles his hips so the head of his cock is pressing right up against my wetness, then pushes in a little—just a tiny bit—so my lips spread to let the head of his penis enter. "Did you think about this?" he asks, voice husky, arms rippling on either side of my head.
"All the time."
"Me too." He pushes in a little more.
My eyes shut in pleasure as I moan.
"I thought," he says, his dick moving in even farther, "about this," he pushes more, "all the goddamn time." With that he thrusts hard, filling me completely.
Impaled, I writhe on the bed, both the physical sensation and the knowledge that Julian is fucking me right now almost more than I can take.
"I've been thinking about this for two and a half years," he growls, pulling out and slamming into me again.
I want to tell him it was the same for me, but I can't speak. The only language I know right now is moans and cries, as my movements match his, as he fills me over and over, my legs tight around his back, his lips biting mine, kissing mine, cursing into my ear. I run my fingernails up and down his back as sensation gathers between my legs once more, as my pussy swells and tightens around him, as I find myself closer and closer to climax once more. This time is even more intense, and my pussy spasms around his cock over and over and I grasp harder to him like I'm holding on for dear life.
Now his whole body tenses, his muscles bulging, and I can feel his cock throb inside me. "I'm coming," he moans, fucking me harder, then pulls out and explodes on my stomach. "Fuck," he gasps. "Holy fuck." Then, "I didn't put on a condom. I'm sorry. I'm…"
"It's OK. I get those injections."
"OK," he says, catching his breath. "Oh god."
I grab my sweatpants and wipe off, then snuggle back against him. I can feel his body move with each breath he takes, can feel his heart thudding against my back. I run the tips of my fingers lightly over his biceps, and he grasps me to him tighter.
"Lia, you…" His words trail off.
"I what?" I tease.
"I don't know. I'm never at a loss for words. Words are my life. Literally. But when it comes to you? I lose all my ability to think."
"Me too."
"That's assuming you had that ability in the first place." He chuckles.
"Shut up, Julian! Don't you remember how I beat you at literary trivia in college?"
"Beginner's luck. That was your first time doing bar trivia."
"It was my first time in a bar," I remind him. "You know, you were responsible for the bulk of my corruption back then."
"I remember," he growls against my ear. "And now? There are still things I can teach you."
My pussy tingles as I think about what he means. But then it hits me suddenly that this might just be one night. What if there aren't any more evenings like this? What if this is just a one-night stand, and all we have to look forward to are awkward exchanges at work and jealous encounters in the bar when we see each other with the people we're dating?
I sigh and sit up, putting my face in my hands.
"What's wrong, Lia?" Julian's warm voice surrounds me, makes me want to tell him nothing and just lie back down. But I can't.
"This was a mistake." I think I'm going to cry. I don't want to. Not in front of Julian.
"Mistake?" says Julian sitting up next to me. "That was the best fucking thing I've ever done."
I shake my head. "I'm afraid," I whisper.
"Sit up," he demands, and I do, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He sits facing me, cradling my cheeks in his hands. "Lia," he says, "don't think for a minute that I'm not terrified too. But I can't let this go. I can't throw away the chance to be happier than I've ever been before out of fear of what might go wrong."
I suck in a long trembling breath. "OK," I whisper.
"OK, what?"
"OK. You're right, OK?"
He grins at me. "You're not usually this agreeable," he teases.
"You're not usually this right."
He laughs, but then his face is serious again as he says, "Ever since that day at Perry's Deli…"
"…when you stole my interview?" I interject.
"Yes," he grins. "And stole your interview. Ever since then, Lia, I haven't been able to think about anyone else. Not even my girlfriend. I couldn't keep dating her when my thoughts were always—always—on you."
"So that's why you broke up with her?"
He nods. "I want to be with you, Lia. I can’t fucking stand the thought of you with someone else. Or without me. We have to figure out the job thing though. I can't be your boss. This?" He gestures at our naked bodies. "Not very professional. HR would lose their shit."
"So quit." I grin at him.
"I think," he says, pushing me back down onto the bed and bracing himself on top of me, "we can find a solution that doesn't involve either of us quitting. Transfers. Whatever. We'll work it out."
I open my mouth to respond, but he covers it with his, kissing my lips, the corner of my mouth, my neck so I breathe out a gasp as he trails his tongue over the sensitive skin just under my ear.
"Until then," he whispers, "we keep things quiet. Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes," I whisper, but as he kisses his way down my body, stopping to tease and torture my nipples on the way, I'm not so sure I can be silent right now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Michelle takes one look at me in the morning and announces that we need an immediate coffee break. In fact, she grabs my hand, both our coats, and pulls me away from our cubicles before I have a chance to say good morning. Darren just watches us leave, and I wonder if he feels left out, but clearly Michelle wants this to be girls-only.
Julian stayed the night, which means we got very little sleep. Early in the morning he left, and it took all my energy to pull myself out of bed and into the shower, where I let the glorious hot water wake me up from my Julian-induced stupor.