by Ali Parker
Chapter 14
Mila
When Ben left, I was stunned. Emotions had been running high. My body had been on fire for him. I had wanted him to touch me in ways I had never wanted from anyone.
His kiss had been even better than I had remembered it, and even though we hadn’t ever spoken about what had happened between us in the taxi, it had seemed like Ben wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Then, he had stopped it all as if it had been a switch he could just turn on and off.
It wasn’t that simple for me. I was still horny as hell, almost trembling with the need for a release, an ache in my gut for the connection with a man I hadn’t only crushed on for as long as I could remember but someone who had come to mean so very much to me.
Instead of having the best sex ever, of losing my virginity to someone I deemed worthy of something that serious to me, I was alone in my apartment, frustrated, abandoned, and stranded with my own tumult of emotions.
I paced my apartment, pressing my hand to my forehead. When I touched my hair, I ran my hand over it. It was still wet. God, I was probably a sight.
In the bedroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My makeup was a little smudged, and my hair had partially dried, so it was stringy. My dress was still wet and completely see-through. My white lace underwear showed through. No wonder Ben had been so worked up. But I had been worked up too. Everything about tonight had been perfect—the dinner, the conversation, the alcohol, and the heat that had coursed through my body when he had made that comment about liking it wet. He had led me to believe he wanted me.
I didn’t doubt that even as he walked out of the door, he did. He had been doing the right thing, wasn’t he? I tried to see it from his side.
Everything was falling apart for him. The last thing he needed was another complication. Even though I was willing to be a release for him, a break away from all the hell, it wouldn’t have been enough for me. To just be a distraction wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be involved with Ben.
It wasn’t what he needed right now.
No, he needed time to get through everything, to handle the death of his uncle, and to deal with the situation with the firefighters who were still fighting for their lives. Especially Jonas. As much as I had felt he’d left me high and dry—or wet, as the case may be—I wouldn’t hold it against him. He had made the right choice, thinking clearer than I had been able to.
But, oh my god, it had been so fucking hot. Ben was amazing with his hands, his mouth, his body grinding against mine. I couldn’t only imagine what he could do with the rest of him.
He was so handsome with his square jaw and his deep eyes. His body was muscular. I had gotten a taste of it when he had pressed himself up against me. Every bit of him was deliciously sculpted. And his dick grinding against me had made me so hungry for him. I was still a virgin, but I knew what it was like to need a release, and I wanted him inside of me.
If I was going to give it up to anyone, it would be Ben.
That didn’t mean it was ever going to happen. Even if everything was perfect in Ben’s life and he wanted me for more than just a night to forget, he was still Jerrod’s best friend. It was the number one written rule. Dating your best friend’s little sister just wasn’t right. Ben would never do that to Jerrod.
And he was right.
I groaned. My body was on fire, every nerve ending was alive, and I was hyper-aware of the material on my skin. I pulled the dress up and over my head, dropping it in a wet pile on the carpet. I unclasped the bra and pulled down my panties. When I was naked, the wet material finally away from my skin, I took a deep breath. Now that there were no distractions, I was aware of my body and everything I felt. The ache for a release still clenched my core.
Without bothering to dry my wet hair, I climbed onto the bed and stretched myself out on the covers. I lay on the bed, looking up at my ceiling. I had to forget about all of this, I told myself.
But I was too turned on to just turn it all back off. I wanted sex, which I wasn’t going to get. The next best thing was to give myself that release the way I usually did when I needed one.
I rolled onto my back and ran my hands down my body. With flat palms, my fingers playing over my skin, I teased myself. I followed my curves, tracing my hand over my stomach, my ribs, avoiding my breasts, and moving back down to my hips and my legs. I was working myself up by touching myself everywhere except the places I wanted to be touched.
My breathing picked up, my skin tightened all over my body, and I was getting wetter and wetter. I scissored my thighs, my body begging for what I wasn’t giving it.
When I cupped my breasts, I gasped. My nipples were erect, hard little nubs in my palms, and I squeezed my breasts and ran my fingers around my nipples in circles. When I touched them, it was almost painful, it was so good, and I moaned. I pinched my nipples, tugging lightly on them. I ground my hips against the bed even though it did nothing for me other than ramp up my mood even more.
After paying attention to my breasts for a while, my pussy begged for attention enough to distract me, and I ran my hands down my body, over my stomach. I pulled up my knees and arched my back, curling into the bed before my thighs fell open. I played my fingers over my pussy lips, gasping. My touch was almost electric after I had teased myself for so long, and I gasped, wanting more. I tried to hold out and drag it out, but my clit throbbed, and I pushed my fingers into my slit. I was so wet, and I shivered when I touched my clit. I smeared the wetness all around my pussy, moving slowly and gently. With my eyes closed, I pictured Ben. I imagined it was his hands on my body, his fingers on my clit.
I had never masturbated thinking about someone in particular. Even though I had crushed on Ben for ages, I hadn’t used him as fuel for my sexual fantasies. Not when I had thought he didn’t even think about me. It had seemed wrong somehow.
But now, I knew he’d wanted me. His dick had been so fucking hard in his pants, I couldn’t have mistaken it. So, his face, mouth, body, and hands were on my mind. I pictured him on the bed with me, his body pressed against mine, and the thoughts turned me on even more. I was already so wet, but thinking about him, about the way I wanted him to touch me, only made it that much more intense. I worked my fingers in circles around my clit, gasping and moaning as I did. I was used to being alone, and I didn’t have to hold back or be quiet.
When I started getting close to an orgasm, I slowed down. I didn’t want to go there, not yet. I was still a little tipsy, and that made it all that much hotter.
I wanted Ben so badly. I wish we could go back and do it all again, pressed up against the wall by the front door. I wished he had done more. His hand had been on my thigh, and I pictured him sliding his hand upward on my thigh instead of stopping. For once, I wished Ben hadn’t been such a gentleman. I wished he had ripped off my dress and fucked me. On the couch, on the bed, I didn’t care. Now that I was rubbing myself, working toward an orgasm, the way I thought about Ben and what I wanted him to do to me was a lot cruder.
When I couldn’t help it, I tumbled into my release. I cried out, my body tightened and spasming and my clit throbbing. I rubbed my clit, dragging it out until it was too sensitive to carry on. I rolled onto my side, eyes squeezed shut and rode out the waves of pleasure that rocked through my body.
The moment I came down from the orgasm, I wanted more. I wasn’t remotely satisfied.
I rolled over and reached for the nightstand. The bottom drawer had exactly what I was looking for. I took out a vibrating dildo. The pink rubber was shaped like a dick. I wondered if it was bigger than Ben or not.
When I turned it on, the buzzing sound filled the room. It wasn’t as sexy as the visions in my mind, but it would do.
I pressed the vibrating tip against my clit and cried out. It was so sensitive, it was almost painful, but waves of pleasure washed through me, and I carried on. I ran the tip over my clit a few times, moving to my entrance to lubricate it with the wetness. I was dripping wet by
now.
My free hand moved to my breast again, and I took my nipple between two fingers, pinching it and tugging, moaning as I did.
I played the vibrator around my clit a couple of times before moving to my entrance. I teased myself, only dipping the tip into my pussy. When I couldn’t hold it anymore, the teasing becoming too much, I pushed the dildo all the way into my body. I moved slowly, shivering as the vibrations traveled through my body, and I groaned when the pink rubber was buried deep inside of me.
Slowly, I pulled it back and groaned again. I started pumping the vibrator in and out of my body, moving faster and faster, focusing on my G-spot. Was this what Ben would feel like? I was willing to bet he felt better. He wasn’t a stiff sex toy, after all. But if the way he kissed me was anything to go by, Ben was a stud in bed.
I thought of his body, naked and writhing on top of me, imagining that the dildo was his cock pumping in and out of me. I pictured his eyes locked on mine as he bucked his hips and fucked me harder and harder. I cried out, pumping the dildo into me harder and faster.
Another orgasm built inside me, and in no time, I tipped over the edge. My body clamped down on the fake dick inside me, and I felt my muscles contract, the pleasure I had felt earlier only amplified with the second orgasm.
It took a while to subside. When the orgasm finally faded away, I pulled the dildo out of me. I was a hot mess, my body satiated. It still wasn’t what I had needed, but it was the best I could do, and the orgasm, now that I had thought of Ben, had been more intense than anything I’d given myself before.
I walked to the bathroom and cleaned the dildo and then myself. I eyed the shower but decided against it. I would shower in the morning. I walked back to the bedroom and slid naked under the sheets. The sheets were soft on my skin, and I closed my eyes. My hair was still a little damp, but that was okay.
When I closed my eyes, I flashed on Ben’s face again and smiled.
Chapter 15
Ben
On Sunday morning, I woke up with a hangover again. It was so much the same as the last time Mila and I had gone out drinking together, but this time, I was filled with regret. There was no uncertainty about what she felt for me now. I was the one who had stopped it from going further between us. But I was sure that if I hadn’t, we would have slept together. Or come a lot closer to it.
Mila had kissed me back with the same kind of passion as she had the last time, and she had known what she was doing. We’d both had time to think about the first time we’d kissed, and neither of us had been as wasted as we had before.
I did regret walking out on her, though. I would have loved to spend the night, to explore her body and everything else that could have happened. But it hadn’t been the right time.
When I rolled out of bed, my head throbbed, and my stomach turned. But I wasn’t so sick that I was going to throw up. Still, I felt like shit. Maybe it was more my emotions than anything else. I felt horrible for leaving Mila hanging like that.
I regretted that even more than not doing anything. It had been the right thing to do to walk away. She didn’t need all this bullshit in her life when she was headed down the path of a good career and fulfilled dreams. I only wished I had thought about it all sooner. I wished I hadn’t kissed her in the first place. Her see-through dress had distracted me, making the next step had been simple. In hindsight, I should have thought about it.
What was it they said about hindsight?
I made myself eggs and toast. I needed as much grease as I could get into my system to counter the alcohol. I needed to feel better. I couldn’t do much for my emotions and how crappy I felt, but I could sort out my body. So that was the next step.
I drank almost two bottles of water after breakfast. My body was dehydrated, and it needed fluids.
Eventually, I started feeling better. Marginally, but it counted for something. If only sorting out my emotions and my thoughts were as simple as eating a greasy meal and drinking two bottles of water.
My phone rang.
“Are you home?” Jerrod asked.
“I am.”
“No shifts today?”
“Only later,” I said. “Do you want to come over?”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
I had time for a very quick shower before Jerrod arrived. I let him in.
“You look like shit,” Jerrod said when he looked at me, despite my shower. “Rough night?”
“That’s an understatement,” I answered.
“You’re out getting wasted without me?”
“It was with the guys from the station,” I lied. “We’re bonding.”
Jerrod laughed. “That sounds wrong in every way when you’re talking about a bunch of guys.”
“Coffee?” I asked, changing the topic. Jerrod nodded and followed me to the kitchen. I boiled the kettle and poured two sachets of the ready-made coffee, complete with creamer and sugar, into each cup. There was instant coffee and then there was no-fuss-at-all coffee. The latter was for men who couldn’t be bothered to make an effort.
I handed Jerrod his coffee cup and hopped onto the counter. Jerrod leaned against one of the cabinets. It was awkward between us. Almost sleeping with Jerrod’s sister would do that to a friendship, which was one of the main reasons it had been a good idea not to go through with it. It would have been a hell of a lot more awkward if I had actually fucked her.
“Are you okay?” Jerrod asked.
I nodded. “Hanging in there.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m worried about you.”
I chuckled. “Reputation to protect?”
“Do’t you know it. They’ll think I’ve gone soft if they think I give a shit. Seriously, though. You’ve got a lot going on. How are you coping?”
“It’s hard. I’m not going to lie. It’s everything at once. Uncle Dean dying and the guys in hospital after the accident.” And Mila, but I wasn’t going to say that to Jerrod. My best friend was one of the reasons I had to fight what I was starting to feel for her.
“The guys are going to be fine,” Jerrod said. “I know you feel guilty. I get it. But it wasn’t your fault, and all things considered, you need to prioritize.”
He was right. When it came to what I was dealing with, some things were more important to handle than others. And Uncle Dean was very much at the top of the list of things I had to deal with. He had been like a real uncle to me. Sometimes, I had felt closer to him than I had ever felt to my dad when he’d been alive. Losing Uncle Dean was so much worse than losing anyone else, including those firefighters.
“If I don’t feel guilty about what they went through, I feel guilty that I’m feeling guilty,” I said.
Jerrod shook his head. “Just be glad you’re alive, man. What if it was you, and you got this news about your Uncle Dean while you were fighting for your own life? Or you weren’t able to hear about it because you were in a coma? Or worse.”
I nodded. “I didn’t think about that,” I said. “Thanks, man. That puts it into perspective a little.”
“Everything happens for a reason,” Jerrod said.
Immediately, I thought of Mila. But she hadn’t come into my life at the right time. I would have liked that, but she wasn’t one of the things that had happened for a reason. Or if she was, I wasn’t sure what lesson it was that I was supposed to learn from loving and losing her.
My stomach flipped when I thought about love in those terms. I wasn’t nearly that far, I told myself. Maybe Mila had been put on my path to help me through the worst and to teach me how to be strong. No matter what.
Even if I lost more and more people who meant something to me.
“You know I’m always here when you need to talk,” Jerrod said. “Even though us real men never talk about anything serious.”
I snorted. “Of course not. We just get wasted and get laid. Nothing serious here.”
Jerrod laughed. “You’re so full of shit.”
“You started it,” I said with a
grin.
My phone rang.
“I have to take this,” I said, looking at the screen. “Do you mind?”
“What’s with your politeness? Answer the damn phone.”
I held the phone to my ear, but I had a feeling what it was going to be about.
“Mr. Sanders set up the reading of the will for tomorrow morning,” Amy said. “They’ve handled Mr. Lambert’s estate. Will you be able to come to New York? You’re in the will.”
I had thought I would be in the will, but I had hoped I would have more notice than this.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Let me look at flights, and I’ll phone you back.”
When I hung up, Jerrod looked at me with an expression that suggested he knew what was going on.
“When are you leaving?” he asked.
I opened the browser on my phone. “As soon as possible.” I scrolled down and found the available flights from Portland to New York. “There’s a flight in two hours.” I looked up at Jerrod. “I’m sorry to cut our visit short.”
Jerrod shrugged. “Don’t sweat it. I’ll drive you.”
“Shit, man,” I said. I hopped off the counter, leaving half a cup of coffee behind and walked to the bedroom to pack. I texted Amy that I was on my way. I was still hungover, but it had taken a back seat to everything else that was happening.
Halfway through packing, I got a call from Penny Lambert.
“They’re reading the will tomorrow,” she said in a dull voice.
“Amy phoned me,” I said. “I’m coming to New York on a flight. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“Thank you,” Penny said, and it sounded like she was going to cry. “I’ll pick you up from the airport. Send me your flight details.”
When she hung up, I did as she asked. As soon as that had been taken care of, I phoned my mom. I had to let her know what was going on too. After explaining everything, I promised to stop by and say goodbye on my way to the airport.