by Amy Brent
I tried to convince myself of all the reasons sleeping with Sabrina was a bad idea and was something that shouldn't be repeated. I went through the list in my head several times – the whole time knowing that it was rubbish and I wasn't going to adhere to any of those reasons anyway. I was going to fuck Sabrina again. It seemed to be a foregone conclusion. We just needed to be smart about it.
“I don't know what is going to happen between us, Sabrina, but whatever happens – we need to talk about it first. I think it's critical that we set some boundaries and ground rules. We've got to figure out what the hell we're doing, because I feel like I'm losing my mind here.”
“Me too,” she said. “But it feels amazing.”
“Yes, it does,” I admitted, stroking her cheek. “It really does. And that's the reason I need to be cautious about us moving forward.”
“Cautious? Why?”
“Because the last thing I want is to cause trouble for either of us,” I said. “Well, any more trouble than we've already got on our hands.”
Chapter Eight
SABRINA
What I felt for Julian was real. So very real. It was so real, it hurt. And I wanted to believe what he felt for me was just as real as what I was feeling, but it was hard to tell. He struggled with what was happening between us. I could see that he was still trying to deal with the morality of it all – despite the fact that there was nothing immoral or wrong about what we were doing. But when I'd gone to his room that night, I saw something that made me think perhaps there was a little something more there too. Maybe deep below the surface, but I was pretty positive that it was there.
I knew he'd been lonely ever since Beth had left him. And I often wondered why he didn't date other women. He certainly wouldn't have had any difficulty finding somebody else if he'd wanted to. He was filthy rich, incredibly gorgeous – and if they ever got to see that amazing cock he had in his pants, they'd be lining up around the block.
But he'd remained alone. He'd he had a few flings here and there, maybe. I didn't know for sure. But if he did, he never talked about it. And he most certainly never brought any women around. Instead, he remained utterly alone and seemed to focus on his house remodel and work more than anything. That was, until that day he took my virginity, then everything changed.
And we continued having sex, by the way. It became less awkward, and much less painful too, as the time went on. But it still remained every bit as amazing as the first time we'd done it.
“Yes, oh yes,” he muttered quietly as I sucked his cock for the first time, my red lips wrapped firmly around that thick base. I watched him and his reactions from below as he looked down on me, stroking my hair.
The first time he came in my mouth, it was hard not to gag at the strange taste, but I had managed to swallow it all down, wiping it from my chin with a gleeful grin. I looked up at him with eyes that literally begged for more. He looked at me, amazement in his eyes – along with a very healthy dose of lust and need. He never seemed able to get enough of me. I couldn't count the number of times he'd cum either in me or on me and be ready to go again. It was like his cock never softened until he commanded it to. I'd always heard that older men had difficulty performing multiple times, but with Julian, I knew that I'd never have to fear that. He was as virile as a teenage boy and had the stamina to boot.
And Julian was always ready and willing to give it to me, every chance we were alone.
We fucked, yes, but it was more than that. We also talked. We talked a lot. We kissed. We cuddled. And overall, I filled his bed on many occasions, always sneaking out before my parents would wake up and catch me sleeping over. It was a risk, but after a while, it was one we were willing to take.
Up until the moment we got caught, that was.
It was another Saturday, much like the one when we'd first slept together. My parents were out running errands and Rosa was off for the day – leaving the two of us alone in the house. So naturally, we did what we did when we had time and were alone – we fucked each other's brains out.
I was on top of Julian, riding him hard and fast, fucking him as he sucked on one of my nipples. Because we were alone, we didn't even bother being quiet. It was always hot when we were able to be loud, able to say anything we wanted and talk as dirty as possible. For me, I always loved hearing him calling my name – as well as calling me a few other, naughtier things. So, it always made things more intense when we didn't have to worry about keeping our voices down. My parents had literally just left, so we were confident we had at least a couple hours to spend fucking each other.
“Fuck yes, Julian,” I cried out, riding him hard, bouncing up and down on his cock.
I was on the verge of coming, I could feel my climax burning inside of me, readying itself to burst, but I was holding out. I always loved when Julian and I came together. It was a magical moment when both of our bodies spasmed and shuddered in shared bliss, and I was holding out for it. Waiting for it, letting it build within the both of us.
Julian was close, I could tell by the way he was breathing and grunting – and by the way he was thrusting deeper and harder into me. It was like he was out of control and was so desperate to come, that he was trying to make it happen. But I thought he sounded almost like an animal when he was close, going buck wild, literally, as I fucked him as hard as I could. He met my rhythm with his own lunges upward, shoving himself deep inside of my tight little pussy. I clenched down tightly, causing him to cry out in pleasure, a sound I'd never get tired of hearing.
“Yes, yes, oh God – Yes!” I screamed out at the top of my lungs.
Julian loved the sounds I made and the things I said, it made him come even harder and I wanted that hot seed spilling out of me. Julian let loose of my nipple and muttered, “I'm....cumming...” before his body jerked upward. He grabbed onto my ass and pulled me down hard on top of him, and that was it. I lost all control, screaming out his name as my orgasm tore through me like a bolt of lightning. My body felt like it was on fire as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me.
It wasn't until our pleasure had subsided that we realized someone else was in the house with us. Footsteps. On the stairs. I stared down at Julian and he stared at me, both of us wide-eyed as I rushed for my clothes and he rushed for his. I was halfway to the closet when the door swung open with no warning. It had just flown open, slamming into the wall behind it with a hard thud – the sound of judgment. And there was my father standing there in the doorway, glaring at us.
He'd heard everything. I could tell from the look on his face. Even if I managed to hide in the closet, he'd heard it all.
“Daddy,” I muttered, covering myself with my shirt, “What are you doing back already?”
His face was bright red, his fists were clenched at his side and he wasn't even looking at me. He was staring at Julian, a fiery rage in his eyes that I'd never seen before. It was half-crazed and made him look scary. I half expected Julian to spout out a terrible line about how it wasn't what it looked like, but he knew better. We both did. There was no use in trying to lie or cover it up. We'd been busted red handed with our hands in the cookie jar.
“Sabrina, go to your room,” my dad said, his voice colder than ever. “I need to speak with Julian.”
“Listen, Dave – ” Julian said, but perhaps he shouldn't have because my father pulled his fist back and launched it straight into Julian's jaw.
The sound of my father's fist slamming into Julian's face was like a gunshot. It was a loud, solid popping noise. I watched as Julian's head snapped backward and he grunted with pain. Watched as blood erupted from his nose, running down his face in a gushing line. Julian hit the floor with a grunt, before he jumped to his feet again and stared my father down.
I screamed, rushing toward them and trying to stand in the way.
“Daddy, stop! I'm not a little girl anymore!”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” my dad said, staring at Julian and ignoring me. “Now.”
“Let me go!” I demanded, fighting against his grip. “I love him!”
My heart stuttered in my chest and my blood ran cold. What was I saying? We hadn't said the L word yet – hadn't come close to it. But there I was, blurting it out like an idiot. Julian paused in the doorway, but he didn't turn around to look at me. I was now sobbing, my body racked with sobs, trying to get to him but my dad held on tightly and wouldn't let me go.
“I love him,” I repeated, hoping he felt the same way about me.
Maybe if he said it back, my dad would see – this wasn't just about his friend fucking me. He and I had something special and something wonderful building. Yeah, we were fucking like rabbits, but we were also getting to know each other on a deeper level. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me back so I could shove it in my father's face, show him that this was about a lot more than just sex.
But Julian didn't say another word. He just walked from the room silently and sullenly, his head down and his hands in his pockets. And my father wouldn't let go of me until we both heard the front door close behind Julian as he left the house.
As soon as he let go of me, however, I threw on my shirt and rushed down the stairs. I opened the front door, but it was too late.
Julian's car was already roaring down the driveway, pulling out onto the street and speeding away with a squeal of his tires.
Julian was gone.
My mom stood nearby, staring at me with her mouth hanging wide open. She looked at me, then up at the stairs at my father as if she was torn about what to do – comfort me, or back my father up.
“I love him,” I said a third time, this time for my father's benefit, not Julian's. “I'm a grown woman, free to do and feel what I want. And I love him.”
“You don't love him, Sabrina,” my father said, walking down the stairs. “You're too young – ”
“You're one to talk, you goddamn hypocrite,” I said, motioning toward my mother.
“She was in her thirties when we married, child – ”
“I'm not a fucking child, dad,” I screamed at him. “I'm an adult. I'm a grown woman who is fully capable of making her own choices about who to fuck and who to love, whether you like it or not.”
“He took advantage of you, sweetheart. He's an older man, you're a naive, younger – ” my father said.
His voice was softer, gentler. It was as if he were trying to connect with me. Get through to me. To see the deeper wisdom he obviously believed. The problem was, it was all bullshit.
“I'm not naive, and I was not taken advantage of,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me. “For your information, I'm the one who came on to him and made my feelings known. He resisted and tried to talk me out of it, but I wore him down. I persisted until I got what I wanted.”
My mom took the moment to speak up. “I agree,” she said softly, staring at my dad as she spoke. “If there's one thing that can be said about our daughter, she's not naive. And she has always been longing after Julian, Dave. You know this. You've known this ever since she was a teenager.”
“But he should have known better. He should have had the balls to tell you no,” my dad said. “How long has this been going on?”
“Long enough to know I love him, dad,” I snapped. “And that's all you're entitled to know. I am a grown woman, after all. I'm entitled to my own secrets.”
I no longer had any desire to speak with him. Just looking at him, remembering what he'd done to Julian made me sick. He made me sick and I wanted to be where ever he wasn't. I wanted to get upstairs to my phone and call Julian. After the bomb I dropped on him – saying I loved him – and the way my dad had talked to him, I needed to speak with him. I needed to make sure he was okay.
“Get back here,” my dad said as I walked up the stairs. “We're not done here.”
“Yeah, we are,” I snapped. “We're so fucking done, dad.”
I didn't even turn to look at him, it disgusted me to even think about looking at him in that moment. Instead, I flipped him the bird from behind as I reached the top of the stairs and went into my room, slamming and locking the door behind me.
I fell into my bed, the tears falling harder than before, as I reached for my cell phone. I dialed Julian's number but it went straight to voicemail. Not that I was entirely surprised.
What if this was it? What if it was over – before it even had a chance to begin?
No, it couldn't be, I cried to myself. It couldn't be over. It just couldn't. There was still so much to see, so much to do. There was so much to learn about one another and so many nights to spend together.
I loved him. I'd meant it when I'd said it, and I think, deep down, I might have always loved him.
I couldn't lose him now. Not when we were so close to something so special.
Chapter Nine
JULIAN
My phone buzzed, but I couldn't bring myself to look at who was calling. Besides, I already knew who it was bound to be. It was either Sabrina calling to talk about everything that had just happened. Or it was her father, threatening to kill me for sleeping with his daughter. Either way, I wasn't really up to talking to anybody at that moment. I just wanted to be left alone.
Not only had I lost my best friend, there was more going on that I couldn't comprehend. Like Sabrina telling me she loved me. Did she love me, really? Or was that something she was saying just to get under her father's skin? I couldn't deny that my fondness for her had grown immensely over the time we'd spent together. And I had to admit, I enjoyed her company more than I ever thought possible. But love? Could she love me? Or was it infatuation? A little girl's fantasy? And how did I really feel about her?
But she wasn't a little girl anymore, that much was true and obvious. Perhaps we needed to stop thinking of her like she was. I'd learned that much over the past few weeks. Sabrina was all woman, all the time. But her father apparently never got the memo. Not that I blamed him. If I'd walked in on him sleeping with my daughter, no matter how old she was, I'd have punched him too. I wasn't angry with Dave, not at all. His reaction – though strong – was understandable. I wasn't mad. I was simply – sad. In mourning for a longtime friendship lost.
My phone continued to ring, and as I pulled up to my house, I looked at the display and saw that it was Sabrina. On a whim, I decided to answer it. Though I wasn't sure why – maybe I needed to hear a friendly voice amidst all this chaos.
“Julian,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying. “Thank God you answered. I'm so sorry – ”
“No, I'm sorry, Sabrina,” I said, wishing to be able to comfort her through the phone. “This is my fault. I should have--”
“Don't say it, sweetheart,” she begged me. “I can't bear to hear you telling me that you regret what we've done.”
My heart broke. “I wasn't going to say that, sweetie. I should have handled things better. Maybe I should have even talked to your father before he caught us – or something. I don't know.”
“He never would have listened, no matter what,” she said. “You know how he is. You know what an absolute asshole he can be.”
I knew that to be true, but what happened just didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to lose Sabrina, but I also didn't want to upset and hurt my best friend. At least, not anymore than I already had. There had to be a better way of going about this, of fixing this thing between us. I racked my brain but couldn't come up with idea one. If there was a good idea out there, I couldn't think of it. My mind was blank.
“To him, I'm always going to be a child,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I'm sick of it. I just want to be treated like an adult, you know?”
“He's your dad, Sabrina. You'll always be his little girl.”
“But he needs to let me grow up,” she said. “He needs to understand that I'm able to make my own decisions about things.”
That was true. I couldn't argue with that fact. Still, I did see her father's side as well. Maybe that's the reality of being her father's age – I could actually see his side of things, probably clearer than she ever would. I could relate to her dad in ways that she couldn't.
“What are we going to do?” she asked me. “I can't stop thinking about you.”
“We'll figure it out, Sabrina. Just give your father some time to cool down first, then we can see what happens. Maybe we can find a way to talk to him about everything that happened.”
She didn't sound too happy about that. “I just need to move out already.”
“Get a job first. Then talk about moving out. I want you to have the best possible start in life, Sabrina. I don't want you to struggle or scrape by.”
“Now you sound like my dad.” She chuckled slightly on the other end of the phone.
“Well, I am closer to his age than I am yours.”
“Very true. But you're not like him, Julian. Not at all.”
“I'm more like him than you know, Sabrina. But I'm not your father, and for that reason, you'll always see me differently. And I'm glad for that. I truly am.”
“Me too.”
She was already sounding happier, and hearing her cheering up made me feel a little better. I knew that I very likely lost my best friend, and I wasn't sure how I was going to continue carrying on with his daughter, but if Sabrina was going to be okay and get through this – well – I'd figure out a way to survive too. I always did.