Saxon’s pace speeds up and so does the tingling between my legs. His long, strong, punishing strokes are playing havoc with my body, and I bring my hips up to tighten around his. I hang on for what I know will an epic ending.
Saxon thrusts inside me two, three more times before I let go. There is no fighting this feeling which my body secretly craves. My orgasm works its way right through me, sending wave after wave of ecstasy.
Coming down from my high, I lazily open my eyes and rest them on Saxon’s face. His eyes are closed and his muscles tense, his neck pulled tight. He thrusts two more times before stilling deep inside me. The elation I feel at seeing him find his release is tormenting, and I push it to the back of my mind.
He lays his forehead on mine and we both close our eyes, breathing heavily while trying to catch our breath. He places a light kiss to my forehead before moving off of me and gets up to go to the bathroom again.
He enters the bathroom and is out of my sight as I stare up at the ceiling.
What the fuck have I done? My stomach rolls as a familiar tightness returns in my chest. I’m sure I’ve not experienced this emotion so much since I’ve lost Nate. Guilt. Guilt for keeping Saxon trapped at Argo, guilt for worrying my parents and putting their lives on hold, guilt for not being there for my best friend when she needs me, guilt for letting down Nate and not being the person he would want me to be. Guilt now for this.
I don’t even have the words for what this is. Did I just cheat on my husband? Did I just cross a moral line? I think I’m going to throw up and can only pray I make it to the bathroom before I lose the contents of my stomach all over these expensive silk sheets.
I startle when I hear the bathroom door open as Saxon exits and picks up the quilt along the way. He doesn’t look at me as he throws the quilt over the bed and me before sliding in next to me, and leaning over to turn the lamp off.
My mind starts to wander as we lay in the darkness. Where will we go from here? Will we pretend nothing happened? Carry on as we have been? His eyes were so cold and distant just now, nothing like the warm, bright green eyes which have been searing my soul all night.
Maybe I could have read his eyes better if he’d actually looked at me. Is he angry? Does he feel as guilty as I do? Is he sorry for starting this? Or worse, does he blame me? God, does he think I’m some kind of cheating slut?
I release a stressed breath and take a few calming breaths to relax me. I feel the quilt move beside me and notice Saxon doesn’t pull me into his arms. A small tear runs down my cheek at the thought that I wish he would.
Suddenly his warm touch runs over my hand, searching for my fingers and intertwining them tightly. My body relaxes in the moment with the same feeling of earlier. Maybe he does know exactly how I feel, because he is going through it too.
Saxon’s small touch is more comforting than anything I’ve felt in a long time. It’s a small sign we’re in this together. We both chose to do this and everything will be all right. It’s a lot to read into one small hand gesture, but what kind of woman would I be if I didn’t make a mountain out of it?
Too scared to look in his direction, I continue staring at the ceiling, listening to his constant breathing. It’s definitely taken on a deeper and steadier rhythm. I’m sure he’s asleep and I’m desperate for the toilet so I try and tug my fingers from his. His grip tightens on mine and I soon realise I’m not moving anytime soon without waking him.
Squeezing my legs together, I try and distract my thoughts to something else, like what the hell happened during the past two hours. Fuck. I slept with Saxon. Twice.
The first time was just how I would expect Saxon to be: hard, fast, no feelings, just sex. A perfect combination for a serial one-night stand guy. The second time was something else completely. I wish I knew what that something else was. I feel like it’s staring me straight in the face, and I’m missing something.
Saxon and I have known each other a long time, whether we were close or not. We both lost someone special and understood what the other person was going through. Working so closely day after day, Saxon constantly being there to save me, can be confusing. Lines can get crossed and sometimes, shit just happens.
That’s what this was, just a once-off mistake. Two people drowning in their grief, looking for comfort in each other. Adults having consensual sex with no strings attached. This isn’t a new concept for him, so I just need to get on board.
I don’t know what was running through his head afterwards for him to give me the cold shoulder like he did. The way he avoided me, didn’t acknowledge me, throwing the quilt on the bed and not saying a word. It was like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. If it wasn’t for the hand holding gesture I would be sure he was disgusted with me. I wouldn’t blame him. I’m disgusted with me. Maybe that’s how he feels about himself too?
Mulling this over for much longer than is necessary, I listen for Saxon’s breathing and notice it’s a bit slower and his grip on my hand has slightly loosened. I’m not interested in early morning awkwardness so I decide it’s best to get going. Saxon doesn’t do sleepovers, this I am sure of. He probably didn’t want to kick me out, but he obviously didn’t want any after-sex cuddling either.
It’s just easier if I go. I can sleep in my own bed and don’t have to see him until work on Monday, which gives me Saturday and Sunday to figure out how I’m going to handle this. The more I think about all the details, the more the idea of me leaving sounds better and better. I slowly pull my hand from his, lying perfectly still until he makes no movement, and I’m free to go.
Sliding off the bed I begin searching for my clothes. Quickly dressing, I run my fingers through my hair and I make my way out of the apartment. I head straight to the office bathroom to finally get some relief and clean up. After I’ve finished I head to my office, shut down my computer and grab my purse and lunch bag from the desk draw.
I’m not sure what time security comes and locks up, but I decide to take the stairs to not wake Saxon with the elevator.
After only a few flights I realise this was probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. This is a thirty-storey building, and we are on the twenty-fourth floor. Stopping, I quickly slip off my heels and continue to the parking garage barefoot.
After what feels like forever I’m sitting in the comfort of my Range Rover, driving along the highway heading home. I need a distraction so I hit the CD dial and turn it up. Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse” comes on, and I release a sigh. God, I love this song. It’s just what I need. I turn the volume up even louder and rock it out on repeat the whole way home.
Once I’m home I head straight to my bathroom for a hot shower, stripping my clothes off along the way, leaving a trail behind me. Kind of like the trail of destruction I left at the office. How significant.
Turning on the hot water, I only add a little cold to take the edge off. All the adrenalin and energy I had built since leaving the office drains away as the hot water runs down my body.
I lean my head back to let the warm water run down my face. My body is aching, and my mind is tired. I slide down along the wall and rest on the floor. Pulling my legs up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them as I rest my head on my arms, enjoying the warmth of the stream flowing over me.
I try not to think about anything and just enjoy the feeling of peace for the moment I can steal it. I don’t think my mind would let me think about it anymore tonight, even if I wanted to. After going over and over everything, I’ve never felt so mentally tired.
Pulling myself up, I shut off the water and step out. I quickly run my towel over myself, drying off just enough to be able to fall into bed. And I do, literally, just that.
Making my way out of the bathroom, I go straight over to my bed, pull back the quilt and fall in, pulling the sheets right up to my chin. I sigh in relief. God, that feels nice. My body is heavy and sinks into the soft mattress. I know it’s not going to be long before sleep takes me.
I’m awoken by a deep, ru
mbling car exhaust. Looking over at the alarm clock I try to focus my eyes on the bright red numbers. It’s two am. A car door slams, and I lie still, waiting to hear if there is anything else. I hear my front door lock being tampered with and I pull in a breath, lying as perfectly still as I possibly can. The front door swings open abruptly before it’s banged shut.
Holding my breath, I hear heavy footsteps down the hall coming towards my bedroom. My body shakes and I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in all my life. Closing my eyes tightly, I pray it’s just a dream.
“What the fuck, Brooke?” My eyes jerk open and I sit straight up clutching the sheet to my naked chest, my heart pounding as I release the breath I was holding. It’s the first time he’s said anything to me since ‘show me what’s not adding up on the spreadsheet.’ I didn’t fully grasp until now that not one word was spoken between us the whole time we were making love. No. Not making love. Fucking.
“Saxon. Fuck. You scared the shit out of me.” I place my hand on my chest, breathing heavy as my heart races.
“What are you doing?” he asks. The anger lacing his voice does not go unnoticed.
“What am I doing? I’m not the one breaking and entering at two am.”
“I woke up and you were gone.” He takes a long breath and stares at me. “What’s wrong? You regret it, don’t you?” His anger has faded and is replaced with sadness and worry.
“No, Sax, I don’t. It was … It was … It was wonderful,” I sigh. “But I know what it was.”
“What was it, Brooke?”
“Just two adults having consensual sex. Releasing some built-up tension,”
“What … you mean just a fuck?” he spits at me. “Is that what it was for you?”
I recoil in disgust. “You don’t need to be so crass,” I snap at him. “I know you, Sax. That’s all you’re capable of. All you’re interested in.”
“Do you honestly think it was just a fuck for me, or is that what you want to believe?”
“Sax,” I plead. I don’t want to hash this out. “This is exactly why I left. I didn’t want to have this awkward and unneeded conversation.” My voice is frustrated, and I can see he wants to push me for more.
He lets out a deep sigh. “I just need to know you don’t regret it. That I haven’t completely fucked things up with you.” His voice is pained and the sadness has returned to his eyes.
“Sax.” I pause, thinking about how I should word it. “We’re okay. You didn’t do anything I wasn’t begging for.” I smile at him and a there’s a small twinkle in his eyes. I know he’s remembering the way my body begged for his, the way I was drawn to him. Even without words it was clear what we both wanted. What we both needed. “Please,” I beg again. “Let’s just let it go and forget it happened,” I give him a small smile.
Saxon makes his way over to my bed and sits on the edge. He rests his elbows on his knees and bows his head. He’s deep in thought as he stares at the carpet. I wait, still clutching the sheet, aware I’m completely naked underneath it.
He sits up and releases a deep breath. He knows the conversation is over. Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, he looks down to the quilt. “Can I stay?” It’s so quiet I almost miss it.
“No,” I exclaim. Is he serious? What we have already done is bad enough. He is not staying in Nate’s house, in Nate’s bed. His eyes move up to mine and I’m confused at the rejection I see there. Why would he want to stay? Does he feel bad for me? “Sax, I’m fine, really. Just go home and I’ll see you Monday. We’re fine, I promise.” I can see the indecision on his face as he stands to leave. As he’s about to head out the door I call out to him, “Sax.” He doesn’t turn around but stills, waiting for me to speak. “What car did you come in?”
He turns his head to face me and a smile slightly over takes his face. “That, sweetheart, is my baby.” He stands, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before he turns and leaves, making his way down the hallway.
“And give me back my key!” I yell as I fall back into the mattress. I hear him chuckling as he closes and locks the front door behind him.
Gutted. No, gutted doesn’t even describe the feeling I have as I leave her house and head back to my apartment. When I had woken up and she was gone, my stomach instantly dropped as I thought I had made the biggest mistake of my life. How could something which felt so fucking right be so wrong?
I knew the risk I was taking by making a move on Brooke: risking our working relationship, the friendship we had built over the last few months, and worst of all, risking my heart. I betrayed my best friend on a chance.
The thought that she had run out on me in the middle of the night had me in a fucking frenzy, not only because I didn’t want to lose her, but because it would ruin all the progress she’d made in moving forward over the last few months.
No matter how I feel about her, her happiness and well-being will always be my number-one priority. If after all her hard work I fucked that up by thinking with my dick, I would never be able to forgive myself.
I don’t know what bothered me more. The fact she said we just fucked or her indifference about it. Just a fuck. Was she even there? That was no fuck. I have fucked a lot. Hell, that’s all I’ve done and I have never experienced anything even close to what it was like with Brooke. I don’t even know how to define it. Was it making love? I don’t know, but it definitely was not fucking.
The thing is I know exactly what that was. I was too freaked out about her reaction to appreciate what we did. I was so worried about scaring her off or pushing her too hard. Hell, I was too scared to even speak. How badly I wanted to tell her how fucking beautiful she was, tell her how long I had wanted her. I needed to tell her how good she had felt, underneath me, wrapped around me, and how being inside her had changed me, ruined me for others.
God, how I had imagined doing all sorts of dirty things with her over the past few months. Over the past few weeks it’s all I’ve thought about. How many cold showers had there been? Too many to count.
Shit. I had just had Brooke, and it was better than I could have ever fucking imagined. She’s perfect, just like I knew she would be. Her skin achingly soft, beautiful tits, and the ass of an angel.
With her lying under me, her hair flowing over the pillow like that, I thought I was fucking dreaming. Her eyes were full of lust and need, her body responding to the smallest touch. My touch.
If I wasn’t so worried about what was going to happen now I’d bang on my chest like a fucking caveman.
I never in my wildest dreams thought I would’ve ever had a chance with Brooke, and trust me, I’ve dreamed about it. She is perfection… the ultimate woman.
Even a man who doesn’t want to settle down, knows he would if he had a Brooke to do it with. The problem is women like Brooke don’t stick around for guys like us and she showed that tonight.
I want her, and not just for sex. I just want her around. Want to talk with her about nothing and everything, want to hear her laugh, and want to be the one making her do it.
After spending every day of the last three months with her I am addicted. How could I go to work every day if she wasn’t there with me?
I wish I could claim her, make her mine. If it were any other woman I would just demand it, and not take no for an answer. Hell, any other woman would be begging me to make her mine. I can’t do that with Brooke. She’s different. She’s fragile. I could easily scare her away, which is the last thing I want to do.
Her face when I asked to stay—God, I could see the total panic in her face. It’s not like I asked to fuck in their bed. I just would’ve given anything to hold her against me all night so I could wake up with her, and see for myself that she was all right, and we were okay.
I’d love to see her in the morning. I got a glimpse of it barging in on her tonight, how her hair sat, all ruffled and messy, her face free of makeup and her cheeks flushed with sleep. God, she is beautiful. Even upon waking she was still the most beautiful thin
g I’d ever seen.
I needed her. There was no question about it. Even if there was no more sex, and we just remained friends, work colleagues even. I needed to be around her.
Fuck though, I hope there is more sex.
Parking in the underground garage of my apartment building, I make my way up to my apartment.
I head straight to my bedroom and strip until I’m just in my boxer briefs. I jump into bed, not wanting to shower. I want to smell her on me for as long as I can. How am I going to stay away from her now?
I know I didn’t get to hold her against me tonight, but going to sleep holding her hand, feeling her warmth next to me, knowing she was there, was the best fucking feeling. Now thinking that it may have been my only chance, I wish I hadn’t been such a scared pussy and had pulled her into my arms and held her. What if I don’t get another opportunity?
Peeling my eyes open it’s as though I haven’t slept at all. I guess I probably haven’t. Sleep was hard to find after Saxon left.
Looking at the alarm clock, it’s 10:30 am, and I can’t believe I’ve laid in bed this long just thinking about everything that happened last night, during and afterwards. What he said, what it could mean, blah, blah, blah.
I’m so sick of thinking so hard about everything and analysing every little thing that happens. I swear God cursed us when he set women up to be like that. I just want to forget about it and let things work themselves out. Just go with the flow.
That’s what I did last night and look how that ended up.
How did that end up? Has it ended horrifically and ended our friendship or did it just end with some hot and wonderful sex? Has that hot and wonderful sex ended? Was it a once-only? I clearly told Saxon it was. Do I want it to be? Was he in agreement? God, shut up Brooke. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Wherever You Will Go Page 14