by Kara Hart
When he slips his tongue inside my mouth, I feel the warmth of him against mine. Every so often, I look down and see his massive cock moving inside of me, as deep as my body allows him to. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. His perfect muscles hold me. I’m holding onto his hand, growing wetter every second.
What are we doing? We don’t even know each other. He’s just some jerk I ran into. I shouldn’t be doing this. But, I have no cards on the table. There are no men that I’ve been waiting for. This is something I have to fall into.
Truth is, I think I’ve been waiting for him ever since I saw what he did to that woman. He has a powerful confidence. And even though it upset me at the time, I can’t deny that I desire powerful men.
He picks me up in his arms. Now, it’s his turn to sit down against the wooden ledge. “Sit on my lap, darling,” he says.
He makes my blood boil. This is bad. This is just so fucking bad. He grabs my waist and looks smug as hell. He cups my breasts, taking in every sensory trigger. I sit on his giant cock and feel every inch slowly pour into my body. He tilts his head back and groans loudly with gratification.
Grinding my hips down feels incredible. I slam my ass down, making him squirm.
“I’m going to fucking cum, baby,” he moans. “Keep moving your ass just like that.”
I gyrate against him, so that he’s deep inside of me. He can’t escape now. I want to feel him when he blows. His feet start tapping against the floor. Every muscle in his body grows hard.
His eyes start moving erratically. Then, when he lets out a sharp moan of pleasure, he pulls out and shoots his warm cum into the air. I lean back and fall onto his body.
He grabs me and pulls me close. He kisses me, unable to care about the mess we’ve made. Afterward, we’ll take a shower and laugh about it. Right now, I’m enjoying this, oddly enough. Sandra is going to flip her shit when she hears about everything.
“So,” he laughs. “What’s your name?”
“Olivia.” I kiss him back, playfully.
“Olivia?” he tenses up and his smile fades.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “What’s your name?”
“Cole,” he says.
Oh, fuck. Oh, no.
“Cole?” I whisper.
He simply nods. We both know exactly what’s going on here.
I just had sex with my high school boyfriend. I just gave myself over to the man who left me broken.
Chapter 11: Cole
She gathers her things in the hotel room, looking confused and hurt. I’m in the same boat as her. This is the woman who ruined my damn life. The woman who cheated on me. The woman who taught me that love was a fucking lie.
Christ. How the fuck did I not realize it was her?
“Should we talk about this?” I ask her. “You don’t have to leave so soon.”
Why did she have to grow up to be the most gorgeous woman on the planet and the best lay I’ve ever had? Why?! It never works out like this. Of course, right when I think I’ve found someone worthy, this bomb is thrown into my lap. This is so messed up.
She doesn’t want to talk right now. “We don’t really have to discuss anything. If I could just find my damn socks, I could leave,” she says.
“You don’t want to say anything?” I ask.
She puts on her dress and grabs her shoes. “What is there to say?” she asks. “We had a good time. We’re adults. We can leave it at that.”
“Alright,” I sigh. I watch as she walks to the door. “Well, that was the best sex of my life.”
“Goodnight, Cole,” she says, closing the door on me.
Wow. So that’s how it ends, huh? I should have been the one with the questions. After all, she cheated on me. I grab a bottle from the mini bar, drink it fast, and fall asleep.
I wake up with the worst hangover in my life.
“God, damn,” I sigh.
Images of us in that sauna come flooding back into my mind. I smile. Yeah, that was nice. Real nice, actually. Christ, her ass is a million times perfection. It’s unreal. And her tits… I need to stop thinking about her, or I might start crying.
I get a text from Eric that reads: A journalist from the New York Times is in town. I’m meeting up with him in an hour. Want to come?”
“Fucking asshole,” I mutter.
I type out, “Not really, but I guess you’ve forced me into this. Give me thirty minutes. I’ll come over.”
I grab my things, checkout of the hotel, and head to his house. I can’t let last night bother me too much. I had fun. A lot of fun. But there are other fish in the sea.
There are countless women out there for me. She’ll regret walking out on me like that.
Eric’s house is a mess. There are beer cans everywhere, leftover and rotting food, and a few of the guys are asleep on the floor.
“God, man,” I whisper. “What happened last night?”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ve got a cleaning service coming at two PM. Where the hell did you go last night, anyway?”
I shake my head and laugh. “You’ll never guess what happened to me, man.”
He shrugs. “You got laid? There, I guessed it.”
“Well, I fucked this chick’s brains out in the sauna of the old hotel on Roosevelt. But that’s not what I was getting at,” I say.
“Enlighten me. Tell me all your woes, child,” he says, still half-drunk.
“I unwittingly fucked my ex-girlfriend,” I tell him.
“Laura?” he asks.
“No, man. I dated Laura for like a week. I would have recognized her, obviously,” I say. “I fucked my high school sweetheart.”
“That Olivia chick?” his eyes widen. “The girl that cheated on you? No fucking way.”
“I’m serious, man. It’s bad,” I tell him.
“How in the fuck did you not recognize her?” he asks.
“Look, it’s been a lifetime since we’ve seen each other. I practically forgot about her. Now she’s this smoking hot woman with the best ass and tits I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s like God is trying to fuck with me,” I say. “I asked what her name was after it was done and it was like, bam, I’m your ex.”
“Holy. Shit.” He starts cracking up. “This is amazing. This sort of thing doesn’t just happen everyday.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Real funny, right?”
He nods, smugly. “We should probably get out of here and head to the bar to meet this guy,” he says. “We’ll talk on the way there.”
“Okay,” I say.
We get into his Honda and take off, toward the bar. Eric can’t stop smiling. “Are you going to see each other again?” he asks.
I laugh along with him. “That’s the thing. I thought we might because the sex was so incredible. But she got pissed off when she found out who I was. She left me high and dry.”
“What? Seriously? Didn’t she cheat on you? I don’t get it. She’s cold, brother,” he says.
“Yeah, I don’t know. Women are insane. You can’t ever read into what’s going on. They perceive things in a totally different way.” I say.
“Well, I guess there are other women out there. Don’t even worry about that chick,” he says.
I nod and tell him, “You’re probably right.”
“I am right,” he says. “Just wait and see.”
I’m not feeling too optimistic about things. I don’t get it. I don’t get any of this. In high school, I had to picture her on her knees sucking some guy who went to her school’s dick. Now I’m here, reliving all of that pain. It’s bullshit.
As I step out of his car, I check my phone to see if she’s called me. There’s nothing, of course. No text. No call. Nothing.
“She’s probably at work,” I think to myself.
“Is that the dream team I’m looking at?” A man stands in front of the bar, wearing a casual suit.
“Yes, sir.” Eric proudly says, smiling.
The Dream Team was the old nickname for
the station’s Hot Shot team. It’s a name we haven’t muttered in a while. I wince when I hear the journalist say it.
“We don’t call ourselves that anymore,” I mutter.
“Well, let’s talk about that inside,” he says. “I’m Dan Rotker. You boys thirsty or what? I swear, I need a fucking heavy drink. It’s been a long day.”
“Let’s do it,” Eric says.
I walk in behind them. I’m not thinking clearly right now. None of this means anything to me right now. I just want Olivia’s perfect body around me all of the time now. It’s bad. It’s real fucking bad.
We get our drinks and sit at the bar. On the TV, Dallas is playing against Boston. Dan looks up and laughs.
“What a shit game,” he says, looking right at me. He obviously doesn’t realize that I don’t pay attention to the games too much.
“The worst,” I tell him.
“Look, boys. What happened to you was a tragedy. We’re not about to paint it any other way, okay?”
I wince and grunt to myself. Dan raises an eye at me. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Was it something I said?”
“No,” I mutter. “I just can’t help but feel as if it’s unnecessary. I just want to get on with my life. I don’t want to think about what happened.”
Eric puts his hand on the table. “Don’t worry. We’re good on all of this. We’ll tell you everything that happened,” Eric says.
I look back at him with betrayal in my eyes. Why is he doing this? There’s no reason for him to shill this story.
“Great. Golden,” Dan says. “Then we’ll talk throughout the week, okay? Hey, bartender, give me an extra shot, will ya?” The bartender pours him more alcohol. I watch as he eagerly knocks it down.
I lean forward against the table. Dan backs up a bit. Real cool and steady, I say, “If you fuck this up and make us look bad, we’ll kill you.”
Dan doesn’t know how to react. Eric looks mortified. I grab one of Dan’s shots and drink it myself. “Continue,” I say.
Dan continues with the business side of things. “Uh, we’ll meet soon. I just need to get the guys at the office situated. I won’t fuck this up. I’m not here to make you look bad. I’m here to write the truth.”
“No problem,” I tell him.
Am I bitter? Fuck yeah I’m bitter.
“Sorry,” I say. “I think about the fire a lot. Every single night, it hits me in the chest. Guys like you don’t know what it’s like. Every time I see a Christmas light, I can’t stop thinking about their burned bodies.”
“I’m… sorry,” Dan whispers.
It ends with that. Dan is left speechless. “Well, I have to get going. Big meeting tonight. Here’s for the drinks.” He throws a hundred dollar bill onto the table.
Eric tries to interject, but the man has already started walking away.
Eric turns to me and breathes in deep. “What is wrong with you?” he asks me.
I don’t even entertain him with an answer. “I’m out of here,” I say.
Chapter 12: Olivia
Our feet hit the pavement with enough tenacity to destroy a village. The wind slaps our faces, but we push forward. This is our afternoon run. Nothing will stand our way.
“No fucking way!” Sandra exclaims. “Your high school boyfriend? That’s just too weird. I don’t believe it.”
“I’m telling you. It was him. We both realized it right after everything happened. Sandra, this is bad,” I say.
I feel winded from running, so I stop myself for a second. We both head to a nearby bench to cool off.
“Why is it so bad?” she asks. “He was a great fuck right?”
“I don’t care how good he made me feel,” I say. “He cheated on me in high school. He fucked some cheerleader at his school. He really broke my heart.”
“You’re crazy. That was like a million years ago,” she says. “You’re both in different places now. It’s all good.”
“No, it’s not all good. We did everything together back then. I mean, we went on family vacations together. It was like a really big deal,” I say. “And then my friend told me that he fucked Ms. Cheerleader. It was like my whole life had fallen apart. We were going to go to the same college and everything. He didn’t end up going to school at all.”
She nods, understanding the situation a little better. “Well, you’re going to have to stay away I guess,” she says. “No perfect dick for you. Sorry, girl.”
“God,” I sigh. “Why does this stuff always happen to me? It’s like right when I get into the game again, something has to screw it up.”
“It just isn’t right,” she says. “That’s life telling you that you need to keep looking.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep looking until I’m old and my house is filled with cats. Can’t wait for that,” I mutter. “Another Christmas alone.”
“Stop,” she rolls her eyes. “You’re a hot woman. Guys want to fuck you. They want to stick it in for years upon years.”
“Yeah and at least 98 percent of men are gross pigs,” I say. “I don’t want anything to do with those guys. I’ve been on dates with five men at my office. Five! And guess what, they’re all balding, they all have mommy issues, and they refused to go down on women.”
“They don’t go down on women?” she laughs. “What else is new? Welcome to dating men.”
“It’s like some weird complex or something.” I laugh. “It’s frustrating as hell, especially if they expect you to do the dirty on them.”
“And your ex went down on you last night?” she asks.
“It was the first thing he did,” I say. “And he got me off in less than three minutes.”
“Bullshit,” she says. “There’s no way he’s that good.”
“I’m not lying to you, Sandra. This whole thing has got me feeling crazy. It’s almost like I can’t adjust to reality now. I’m stuck in some weird dream world, where everything from my past has somehow come back to haunt me,” I sigh.
“This is really weird,” she says. “I’m thoroughly entertained.”
“Thanks, jerk,” I laugh.
“Well, it’s not like my life is going anywhere,” she says. “I have Jack texting me every minute. He is losing his mind. He’s been going through these crazy episodes where he literally cries on the phone, telling me I’m the only one for him. An hour later he will call me back to scream at me. It’s pathetic.”
“Yeah, well, you have an obvious answer to that,” I tell her. “Stay away. Stay as far away from him as you can.”
“I’m trying, but do you remember the other night when we went out together? I sometimes wonder if he followed me there,” she says, glancing around us.
“Like, what if he’s spying on us right now? It freaks me out, Olivia!”
I glance behind me too. “Why do men have to be so weird?!” I yell. A male runner pauses to look back at me. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“No idea,” she sighs. “But it looks like we’re stuck in their web of craziness.”
I have to laugh a little at the situation. “They always try and say we’re the crazy ones too,” I shake my head. “But, really, when you think about it, men throughout history have been creeps, violent murderers, and sociopaths. That’s about all they’ve done for civilization.”
“Cheers to that,” she says, lifting an invisible glass to me. Clink.
As soon as she says that, my phone vibrates. The text reads: “I am thinking about you. We should talk.” He must have grabbed my number from my phone.
“That snake!” I exclaim. “He took my number from my phone and texted me.”
“There you go,” she laughs. “They’re also thieves too.”
“What should I text him?” I ask her. “I don’t know what to do!”
“You kind of want to do this again. Don’t you?” she smiles. “Don’t lie to me.”
“No, I don’t!” I tell her. “I really don’t. I despise him.”
“You’re going overboard, girl. You don’t hat
e him,” she says.
“Well, if you’re so wise, how do I really feel then?” I ask her.
“You want him,” she shakes her head at me.
“I cannot go down that path,” I say. “Seriously, I’ll hate myself if I do.”
“Well then,” she says. “You have your answer, right? Don’t reply back.”
Later, however, when I’m leaving her house, I pull out my phone and stare at the text. It was good sex. It was fun to go out and be adventurous for once.
He is handsome as hell. Maybe I’m making this a bigger deal than it should be.
“Yes,” I type, “maybe we should get together and discuss things.”
Sometimes, you just want to get into trouble.
Chapter 13: Cole
Eric eagerly stuffs his burger into his face, sighing from the strain of his esophagus hitting against the food.
“I don’t know, man. Maybe you should just forget about her. She’s not that special. Honestly, I can’t even believe I have to tell you this. You used to be a pussy magnet, someone who never gave a fuck,” he says.
“What do you mean used to?” I ask him.
“Look at yourself! You’ve barely eaten any of your food. You even took the damn bun off the burger,” he says.
“Why are you monitoring my eating?” I ask.
“We need to stay focused,” he says.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.” I mutter.
I try to eat a fry, but he is one hundred percent correct. The thought of Olivia, curled back in my arms again, has been fucking my mind up lately. Now I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t get the taste of her sweet pussy out of my mind.
“I’ll be fine,” I reiterate.
“This is something we should do, right?” he asks, all of a sudden.
“Now you’re getting cold feet? I don’t know, man. This is all your doing,” I tell him. “I’m just along for the ride. I already told you. I’m not giving my name.”
“Fuck.” He pounds his fist against the table. “You have to use your name. It’s the only way we’ll get called back in for work.”