by Claire Adams
“God, that feels so fucking good.” He exhaled sharply, stood up, pulled my pants down, and lifted my legs. Then he slammed through. There was no easing it in, no asking if it was okay. It was just raw force slamming through me. I lost control, shuddering, throbbing, trembling as he poured in, sliding his dick past with his finger moving over my clit, up and down in time with his movements.
I took him in, helpless to do anything but lay my head back while he pounded me. He was moving faster now, grunting softly. He knew just where to go, how fast to move, and how to reach that spot that was driving me insane.
He was ruthless, his teeth bared, his hips swinging, staring down at me as he pushed me closer to that point. Flesh slammed against flesh, and sweat poured in, our bodies melding with each other’s. We were one being, working toward a singular goal, engrossed in the task of providing pleasure to one another in every way imaginable.
He drove himself inside me, sweat dripping down his face. His mouth fell open. My head dove back, and my eyes closed. The world fell away, and something inside me exploded, spreading warm ripples all throughout my body, even into the tips of my fingers and toes.
He collapsed beside me with a sigh, his cock hanging down his leg. “That was amazing.” I was speechless, swimming in the afterglow. He started to stand up and ducked down to pull his pants off the floor. I looked over to see what he was doing, still drunk on the moment.
He put his pants on. “I should probably take you home.”
“Okay.” I sat up, confused. Why was he pushing me out like this? Was he worried about somebody finding me there? The truth slapped me in the face. Of course, he was worried. A man like him was too good to be single. He probably had another girl like me every night while his wife was away racking up credit card debt. I felt stupid.
As I got dressed, I looked around the room for signs of his wife. The closet was closed, so I couldn’t see inside, and there were no personal items, no photos, just his phone, his laptop, and his charger. He was probably too smart to leave anything else out, but there were signs.
The room was decorated like a Versailles palace with a white canopy bed, mahogany side tables, and a TV stand that matched, all with gold inlay running around the edges. This wasn’t a man’s cave. No man could decorate a room like this. It needed a woman’s touch.
I felt like an intruder, breaking into somebody’s home, taking her man behind her back. Just the idea of infidelity was enough to make me sick. Acting it out warranted nothing less than capital punishment. I helped a man hurt the woman he’d dedicated himself to. I was the other woman.
He walked into the bathroom while I got dressed. I couldn’t believe that I let myself hope like that. I finally found somebody who I could connect with, who actually understood me, and he just happened to be married.
“You ready?” He walked out of the bathroom.
“Yeah.” I followed him downstairs.
He waited at the bottom to take my arm in his. I let him, but I didn’t want to. I felt dirty. I needed to leave, to forget this man and never think about what happened again. He must’ve noticed the change in my demeanor, but he didn’t say anything, which meant he probably didn’t care what I thought. He got what he wanted. Now, he was just taking out the trash.
He was just as quiet as I was, completely subdued. The tension only seemed to get worse the closer we got to my place. Maybe he was worried that I’d try to kiss him or tell him that the night meant something more than it should’ve. I was worried that he’d try to do the same thing and drag me into his demented relationship drama. I was nobody’s mistress, and I needed him to know that. But I didn’t want to voice it aloud, so I stayed stiff and watched out the window until he pulled up to my apartments, and we stopped.
I looked over at him. He was staring straight ahead, his finger tapping against the wheel. I was waiting for him to say something, anything. I needed to be wrong. This was the first time I’d actually connected with a man in years. It couldn’t end like this.
He kept tapping, waiting for me to get out of the car, so I opened the door. “Thanks.”
I climbed out, imagining what it would be like for him to grab my wrist, pull me back in, and slam his lips against mine. Instead, he gave me a quick smile and got the car started again. I felt used, like he’d lied to me and violated me. This was supposed to be a date, not an affair. Had I known he was married, I probably would’ve slapped him in the face for trying to come on to me.
When I walked back inside, I kept thinking about his wife. Did she know that he was cheating? Did she care? What if this was the final straw that broke her heart for good? I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. She must not have known. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so quick to get me out of there. I sighed and walked back to my room to change for bed.
Chapter Eleven
Archer
I woke up to a silent house and started making my bed, smoothing out the creases and tucking the ends underneath my mattress. There was a strand of long blond hair sitting next to the pillow. I snatched it up and threw it away.
The boys had been calm. The night before, Andrew woke up, but his brother didn’t, which made it easier for me to get him back to bed. Other than that, there were no disturbances. I was alone with the images that kept racing through my head.
I saw her rolling around under me, her mouth open, her head back as I rolled through her. I’d become a musician, playing her like an instrument, sending a chorus of adrenaline slamming through her veins while I watched, my cock so hard I thought it was ready to explode. I was torturing myself. There was no way she’d want to see me after the way I acted when I dropped her off.
That was the point. I couldn’t kiss her goodnight and promise her the world. She had to think that there was no chance of us ever getting together. Otherwise, she’d just end up getting hurt when she found out that things couldn’t go any further. She didn’t deserve that. She needed a good man who could give her all of his time and energy, somebody who could spoil her and appreciate her in a way I simply didn’t have time for.
I walked out of the bathroom and pulled on my shirt, trying not to think about the way she’d looked at me before she got out of the car, like I’d just slapped her in the face. I seduced her and used her, then threw her away like she was nothing. Now I had to live with that.
There was a knock on my door. I climbed into my pants and hopped over to answer it. It was Mona.
“Good morning.” She strode inside my bedroom and took a look around like she was expecting the room to be destroyed from a night of animalistic sex. Disappointed, she took a seat at the desk chair in the corner.
I grabbed my shoes out of the closet, my back turned, and sat on the bed. I couldn’t look at her. The woman was far too perceptive. She’d see the shame in my eyes the second I lifted my head. “How’s your morning going?” I asked to ease some of the tension.
“What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” I slipped into my shoes.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t hurt that girl.”
“Better to do it now before she gets hurt even worse.”
“But you feel bad, don’t you?”
“Dammit, I do.” I threw my other shoe against the wall.
“Does she hate you now?”
“Probably.” I grabbed my shoe and started putting it on.
“What happened?”
“I took her home that night. Then when I dropped her off, I gave her the cold shoulder.”
“But you want to hear from her again, don’t you?”
“Nothing can come of it.” I got up and grabbed my laptop.
“Then forget about it.” She followed me out into the hall. “If nothing could come of it, then it shouldn’t matter, right? She’s just another hole.”
“A hole?” I turned around to face Mona at the top of the stairs. “No, she’s…”
Mona smiled. “See
, you don’t like me saying that, do you? You’re defensive because you know I’m right.”
“Don’t do this to me. It won’t work.”
“Call her, Archer.” She disappeared into the nursery.
I took out my phone when I got outside, hoping to distract myself with work, but the screen was blank. I kept expecting it to go off on my way to work, but things were slow. The Navy had already taken over the testing of the Hawkeye, and I was still waiting on Rick to build his sensor. The other projects we had were long term, so I didn’t have to worry about them. I had briefings sent directly to my mailbox at the office.
Normally, I would’ve welcomed a quiet morning, but I didn’t feel comfortable in my skin. I felt dirty, like I’d done something wrong, and in a way, I had. Zoe and I had clicked, but instead of taking advantage of that, I screwed her and dropped her back at home.
We were so much alike. All she cared about were her ambitions and making something of herself. She was nothing like the freeloading gold-diggers I’d dated in the past. She didn’t care about what I could buy her or how much was in my bank account. For a rich man like me, a girl like that is a once in a lifetime opportunity, not somebody I could throw away like a dirty rag.
Halfway to the base, I pulled out my phone again. I could call her, but what would I say? She didn’t want to hear from me after the way that I acted. Still, there was a chance she’d listen, and that was worth the risk.
When the car dropped me back at the office, I snuck in and locked the door so I could get a moment of peace. I had to be realistic about this. Nothing was going to happen. If I called her, I’d be leading her on. But I couldn’t just walk away after Saturday night. Zoe was my heroin. The second I got a taste, I had to have more. One night wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t sure how she’d react to me calling her. If she had any sense at all, she’d hang up and never talk to me again. She probably would. The woman wasn’t stupid. But there was still a possibility that she’d answer and give me another chance. I felt terrible, like I was planning somebody’s murder. It wasn’t worth taking the risk and hurting her, but how could I possibly resist?
There was a knock at my door. “Come in.”
Rick strode in. “Tell me you had a good weekend.” He took a seat at my desk.
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my phone.
“What do you mean you don’t know? You either did, or you didn’t.”
“It’s more complicated than that. It was an amazing night. She’s a great lay, but in the end, I just had to drop her off like she was a hooker or something. I think it got to her.”
“Don’t get sentimental about this kind of thing. It’s just one woman.”
“I mean it, Rick. I really feel terrible about it. I think I’m gonna give her a call and apologize.”
“No, man. That’s the last thing you wanna do. Before you know it, she’ll be hitting you up for cash. What you need is another good night to get your mind off her. You don’t want to get caught up with the first girl you see.”
“I want her.”
“You’re gonna have to find a way to forget about it.” He got up to leave. “The Navy’s launching the Hawkeye later on. Thought I’d check to see if you wanted to come down.”
“No, I’ve got work to do here.”
“All right. Next time you wanna head out, just let me know.”
“Thanks.” He made it sound easy, like I could just dip my cock into somebody else and forget that Zoe ever existed. But I’d been with plenty of women. Half the time I was just going through the motions out of boredom. There was no thrill there, no magic, not like with Zoe. I couldn’t forget a night like that, and I couldn’t let things be after the way I acted. That wouldn’t be right. I had to talk to her. Maybe, if I did this right, she’d understand that I wasn’t just some prick looking for a hole to put my dick into.
Chapter Twelve
Zoe
Work was the only thing that mattered. The bakery needed to be swept and mopped. Chloe ate the last croissants the day before, which meant I’d have to go through the painstaking process of making the dough and molding it just right. It was better that way. I didn’t have time to think of anything else, so I started the mixer and got things going while I rushed around the kitchen, wiping down the counter, cleaning out the sink, and ultimately mopping the floor. It didn’t really need mopping, but I couldn’t stand around.
The second I stopped, I’d see Archer, leaning over me, his cock surging through me. It was too dangerous to swoon over a pig like him. He made sure that I knew exactly how he felt. He didn’t want me, and I was going to have to accept that.
I started a batch of blueberry syrup on the stove and walked out into the lobby. It was still early. The sun was up, but there was nobody out. There wouldn’t be any customers for at least another hour, and it was going to take some time for the dough to be ready.
I hated myself for letting Archer get to me. I couldn’t let it continue, but standing alone in the lobby with nothing to do wasn’t going to make things any better. I must’ve been the stupidest woman on the entire planet. The man was a pig. He didn’t even want me. He just wanted to screw me, and he was taken. There was no chance we could be together, so why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?
I walked back into the kitchen to start working on the croissants. I’d put so much time and energy into working that I’d suppressed everything else. Now I was rebelling, acting out, making reckless decisions—thinking about a man I couldn’t have.
I had to stop this. No man was worth the kind of trouble I’d have to face if I got distracted from work. I pulled out a bag of yeast, some flour, and water and mixed it into the mixing bowl. Then, I left it to rise while I stirred the blueberry syrup. It was watery, so I turned on the heat a little higher.
The doorbell rang, and Chloe walked in. “Hey,” she called out from the lobby.
“You’re on time.” I came out to give her a quick hug.
“Don’t remind me.” She started clocking in at the register while I walked back into the kitchen so I could taste the blueberry syrup. It was rich but a little too tart. I reached up into the cupboard above the stove to grab a jug of sugar then turned around to set it down on the counter.
Chloe was staring at me with a big grin. “How was your weekend?”
“I’m tired. I just want to get things done and have an easy day.” I opened the sugar jug and measured out two cups.
“What’d he do?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t have time for distractions. I have to make these croissants and the syrup. Archer doesn’t matter.” I poured the sugar into the syrup pot.
“Something’s up.” She walked into the walk-in and helped herself to a glazed donut.
“No.” I stomped inside. “There is nothing ‘up.’ He’s a complete jackass, and I want nothing to do with him.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“Oh, no. You don’t get to come at me like that, trying to say I’m all defensive.”
“Are you defensive?”
“I’m pissed is what I am.” I grabbed a nectarine off the shelf and took a bite. “He was too good to be true.”
“Well, what was so good about him?”
“He’s rich. He’s a hard worker. He cares about nothing but business, and he’s easy to talk to.”
“But…”
“All right.” I walked back out into the kitchen. “You really wanna know what happened?”
“Yes.”
“He screwed me sideways and dropped me right back at home without so much as a single word.” I took a bite of my fruit. “Which I wouldn’t have freaked out about, honestly. It’s not like I need a man to complicate things, but he wanted me out as soon as we were finished, like he didn’t want somebody to know that I was there.”
“You think he’s taken?”
“I think he’s married.” I checked the syrup again and turned down the heat, then walked back out into the lobby. The morning rush would be coming soon.
“Are you sure?” she asked from the kitchen.
“I think so.”
A man walked in wearing a black, pinstriped suit and a baby blue shirt. His blond hair was combed to a point in the front. “Hello.” He stopped in front of the counter to look at the menu.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“Not sure yet.”
“Just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be here.” When I turned around, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of my eye.
“Are you the owner?” he asked.
I turned back to him. “Yes.”
“And everything you make is from scratch?” He took a look around.
“That’s right.”
“Looks amazing.” He wasn’t looking at the food.
“Thanks.” I blushed.
“I think I’ll get a chocolate muffin and some coffee.”
“Comin’ right up.” He had the most adorable dimples when he smiled.
“I’ve got two tickets to the game tonight if you wanna come along.”
“I don’t even know your name.” I grabbed his muffin out of the case.
“Taylor.” He outstretched his hand and shook mine. When he pulled it away, something golden caught the light. It was a ring. He was married.
“I’m sorry.” I drew back. “I can’t.” I turned away to pour his coffee and brought it back to him.
“That’s okay.” He paid and left.
“What was that?” Chloe was leaning against the kitchen door behind me.
“A man with a ring on his finger who wanted to take me on a date.”
“Want me to run out and bludgeon him with a rolling pin?”
“No, we should let his wife get the first shot in.”