by T Gephart
“Hello.” I didn’t bother checking the caller ID.
Anyone who was calling me this late was either blood related or a woman I’d fucked at some point. Either way, evasion wasn’t my thing.
“Kyle, it’s Sarah.”
Hmmm. Well, the night—assuming it wasn’t already morning—just took an interesting turn.
“Miss me already?” I smiled into the phone, a little too pleased by the call.
I might have come to the realization that I wasn’t interested in anyone else but her, but I wasn’t about to give her the upper hand either. Besides, I very much enjoyed the game we played.
“I thought . . . I was thinking. . . .” She tried twice unsuccessfully to finish her sentence before taking a deep breath. “Look, we should talk about what happened.”
I could see her almost as clearly as if she were sitting in front of me. The weight of her brown eyes as she contemplated. Probably still wearing last night’s clothes as she sat on the edge of her bed.
“How long have you been deliberating whether to call me?” I was genuinely curious.
“Only two hours.”
“Two hours?” I smirked into the dark as I stretched out under the sheets. “I would have figured longer.”
“Well . . .” She paused. Yeah, I figured there was more to it. “I spent all the time before that wondering if I should come see you instead. By the time I’d decided, I realized I didn’t actually know where you live and it was really late. So that’s when the call debate started.”
“So, what was your decision?”
“Well, I’m on the phone, aren’t I? Obviously I called.” She laughed.
“No, I meant about coming and seeing me.” I was fairly sure I knew the answer, but I was egotistical and wanted the confirmation. “Assuming you had my address.”
“Oh. Well.” She paused before adding confidently, “I was going to come.”
“You know I would have made sure of it.”
“I didn’t mean like that.”
“No, but I did.”
“Just be serious for a second, okay. Because I need to process what the fuck happened.” She took a breath and continued before I had a chance to interrupt. “No one knows what went down in that bathroom. No one. Well, obviously you do on account you participated, but other than that I haven’t told a soul. Even Kennedy, who eyed me suspiciously when I came back slightly disheveled from my mysterious bathroom expedition and didn’t get the scoop.”
“And you’re worried I’m going to talk?”
“No. No of course not. I’m just not sure whether to file it away under a psychotic episode or demonic possession. I’m not sure which of those categories makes me less of basket case.”
“I’ll clear it up for you.” I took a breath. “I’m in my bed, naked, and I can’t think of a good enough reason why you’re not in it with me.”
“The lack of address would probably be the reason.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
She was truly extraordinary.
Not only was she sexy and smart, but I’d already slept with her and was still interested. I wasn’t sure I’d come across that combination in . . . Well, I hadn’t come across that combination.
“Sarah.”
“Kyle.”
“I’ll give you my address. Now come to my bed.”
Chapter 8
Sarah
What do you call a one-night stand you sleep with again?
It sounded like a joke missing a punch line.
Was it crazy?
Was I?
We were consenting adults. Who’d had good sex. Actually it was more like freaking amazing sex. Which wasn’t typical considering I’d been an adult for a while and had a lot of average sex, but not so much amazing. So didn’t I owe it to myself to have great sex when I could? And now we sort of knew each other—or getting to know each other, as was the case—so the danger of him being a psychopath was considerably reduced.
Plus we had been, and would continue to, be responsible. There would be no “oops, I’m pregnant” or “hey, does this rash look normal to you?” I was on the pill and we would use condoms, because, safety first.
He answered the door of his loft apartment wearing a pair of sweatpants that had no business being that sexy. “You’re not naked.” I took a step inside and unbuttoned my coat.
“I’m trying to keep the public indecency charges to a minimum. I just moved in.” He smirked, pulling me closer and ignoring my battle to undress.
“This isn’t going to change anything at work.” I kept talking as his lips started to get busy on my neck. His fingers also found their purpose and managed to get me out of my coat and start on the buttons of my blouse. Seriously impressive those fingers of his. “We are going to do this and it won’t get weird.”
“It won’t get weird.” His lips moved down my chest as my blouse fell to the floor.
“This is totally okay.” I’m not sure why I was still talking; I had already kicked off my heels, my bare feet returning to the floor. “And this isn’t me doing what you want. I’m here because I want it. There is a distinction.”
Yes.
His hands moved across me, touching my skin, every inch of me on fire.
Oh God, Yes.
This was my doing, not his.
I was still in control.
“A very clear distinction, which I’m happy you’re on board with.” His fingers and mouth did things that didn’t seem humanly possible.
“God, you’re a good kisser.” I moaned as, with a quick flick across my back, my bra disappeared. “I made the right call coming here.”
“Yeah, you did.” He stopped kissing me, grabbed me roughly and hauled me over his shoulder.
My world turned upside down, literally, as I dangled. My legs secured by his hands as he strode confidently to what I assumed was his bedroom.
No prelude.
Like a caveman, with me—the cavewoman presumably—in a fireman hold as we moved through his apartment, hitting the light switch as light flooded the room.
“What are you doing?” I wriggled, only half of me undressed.
“Having sex with my wife.”
“I’m not—”
I didn’t get to finish the sentence, my equilibrium again tilted as he flipped me onto his mattress.
With a tug, those obscene sweatpants dropped to the floor and he was standing in front of me, naked.
Kyle clothed was impressive. He clearly worked out, with toned, defined muscles in the right places. But stripped, with all that in view—he was spectacular.
He had a body that deserved its own monument. And when he looked at me the way he was looking—eyes hooded, with so much intent I thought I might actually burst—I completely understood the arrogance.
“What were you saying?” His hand lowered to his rock-hard length as he gave it a stroke. “You aren’t . . . ?”
“Naked.” I fumbled with the zipper at the back of my skirt, desperate to get it off.
“No, you aren’t.”
He watched as I won my battle with the skirt and then slid my underwear off, my body completely bare in front of him.
I had never been this exposed before, not having the confidence in my own skin he seemed to. The harsh halogen of the overhead chandelier seemed so severe, displaying every imperfection. But as he watched me, I didn’t cower or cover any part of me.
There was no need to impress him. I felt a confidence I hadn’t felt before, giving myself permission to show him what I had been afraid to show other men. With him, it just felt different. The way he looked at my body made me feel like a goddess.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, stroking his cock slowly as he grabbed a condom from the nightstand. We watched each other. Me, as he tore open the packet and covered himself with it, and him, as my thighs parted on his command. “Mmm. Very nice.”
I’d never done this. It felt like it was something beyond sex. Almo
st scandalous but wow, did it feel hotter than hell. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but I liked the way it felt.
The way I felt.
“I want you inside of me.” I spoke words I’d never said out loud.
“You’re in luck, sweetheart.” He grabbed my legs and pulled me further down the mattress, my butt resting on the edge. “Because that’s where I’m going to be.”
With his big hands holding my legs open, he pushed inside in one hard thrust, barely giving me time to adjust. A sting of slight pain bit at me as he stopped and pulled out half way, his thumb moving to circle my clit.
He was large, bigger than what I was used to, filling me again as he thrust deep. “You’re beautiful.”
It was the first time a man ever said that to me and I didn’t argue.
I didn’t even speak.
I think I might have lost the ability all together.
Instead, I arched my back, giving myself to him as he controlled the tempo.
Deeper.
Harder.
Faster.
His thick cock pulled out of me for a second, flipped me onto my stomach suddenly and slapping my ass as he lifted it in the air. I moaned as his hard length filled me again.
“I thought about this the whole time I fingered you in that bathroom.” He fucked me from behind as I scrambled on all fours.
“While I drank my scotch.”
Faster.
“On my way home.”
Harder.
“When I jerked off in shower because I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Deeper.
His fingers moved to my clit, circling as he continued to thrust, my hips rocking back to meet him as I struggled to stay on my knees.
“I thought about this right here.” His fingers twisted my clit, the pressure sending an orgasm rocketing through my body as I gasped out loud.
Barely remaining upright, every nerve tingling through my body as he continued his assault.
“That’s it, sweetheart. You feel so amazing when you come.”
Relentless waves crashed over me as he grabbed my waist and pumped into me, my pussy pulsing against his thick cock as I screamed out his name.
“Kyle. Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“Yes, baby. I’m right here.” There was one last thrust and then he stilled, exploding into me as I collapsed.
“Right here.” He started to move again slowly, his cock jerking with each rock of his hips. “God, you feel good.”
My body shook as he pulled out, rolling onto his side and joining me on the mattress.
“Mmm. Better than I remembered.” I felt his smile against my skin as his arms wrapped around me and lifted me further up the bed. “Don’t even think about leaving.”
“I’m not.” I nodded, too exhausted to move. “But not because you want me too.”
“Yeah, yeah. Free will. Your choice. Whatever you need to tell yourself.” He laughed, pulling me closer against him and kissed my neck. “Give me a second to clean up.”
The mattress dipped as he turned, lifting himself off the bed and turning off the light. Tiny white spots appeared in the blackness while my eyes adjusted as I heard him move through the room.
I rolled onto my side, my sight returning as I followed his shadow into an adjoining bathroom.
The pop of a light switch.
The faucet.
The water running.
Then the padding of feet as I watched him return.
“Open for me.” He knelt on the bed with a soft warm towel in his hand and carefully wiped between my thighs. A smile spread across his face as he gently patted me dry. “You’re so compliant after sex. I’ll need to remember that.”
“And you are extremely cocky.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m like that all the time.”
And wasn’t that the truth.
He dumped the towel and crawled back into bed. My body instinctively nestled closer to him, which was weird since I wasn’t usually a cuddler. It’s like parts of me remembered how good it felt in Vegas, he’d been a stranger then—not sure he was much more now—but it just somehow felt right.
Ugh.
I was overthinking.
“What are you thinking about?”
He had to have a sixth sense. His intuition was way too astute.
“I’ve never done casual sex before.”
Like my body had slipped into Vegas habits, so had my mouth. It was easy to talk to him; the idea of never having to see him again gave me permission to not hold back. It was something I had never done in relationships. Not just sexual ones, but in all areas of my life. Of course that theory was now a bust, I was not only going to have to see him repeatedly but also work with him. And yet strangely, that feeling of ease remained.
“I know. Which is why you waited until after our ceremony the first time.”
“What?” I twisted around to face him, my mind now more full of questions than answers. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we met at a bar. We could have easily had sex in a bathroom like we almost did at The Stanton Room, I’m almost positive that’s like a rite of passage in Vegas. But you didn’t even kiss me until after that asshole in the white jumpsuit pronounced us husband and wife. Intellectually you knew it was casual, but I think subconsciously you needed something to feel like it wasn’t. It was like you were giving yourself permission.”
Oh. My. God.
I froze in silence, barely able to breathe.
How could a man I barely knew be able to see that about me so clearly? What’s more I couldn’t even get defensive and argue, telling him he was wrong. If I was honest, really and truly honest, I knew he was right.
“God.” I hid my head in the crook of his neck. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Nothing.” He brought me in closer, his hand rubbing circles on my back. “Why the hell do you think there is something wrong?”
“Because.” I was wondering whether I should just save us both the time and put together a Power Point display. The reasons were bound to be numerous. “I tried to have a hook up, and even then I screwed it up.”
“Sarah, do you see anyone complaining here?” He tried to lift my head, I resisted, for the first time since meeting him feeling incredibly embarrassed.
“You dated a guy for years, and you were supposed to get married. And before that you probably only had sex with a steady boyfriend,” he continued, accurately guessing my dating history. “You aren’t going to turn around in one night and go fuck some random dude without a reason. Even if the reason was basically smoke and mirrors.”
“So, why did you do it?” I lifted my head, looking him in the eye. Sure, he’d been right about my motivations, but that didn’t explain his participation. I’m surprised he didn’t run in the opposite direction. “Seems like a lot of trouble for sex.”
“Actually it wasn’t.” He laughed, moving the hair off my face. “You were probably more honest than most women. So we had to go through the charade, big deal. You didn’t demand a thing from me. Not before, not during, not after.”
“But you said,” I know I didn’t imagine it, “You are the opposite to me. You rarely had girlfriends. You’re like the serial one-night stand guy.”
As I’d been honest with him, he’d been honest with me. For all the years I’d put into trying to build and maintain a perfect relationship, he’d happily screwed around. I didn’t judge him, why the hell should I? And hey, if I was going to reap the benefit of those years with what he gave me in bed, then I sure as hell wasn’t about to complain. But why—and this is where it made no sense—would a guy who boasted his preference for no strings, go through with a wedding—even if it was a sham—for a one-night stand?
“You see, most people can’t do the casual thing in any capacity. They say they can and then they inevitably want more. You didn’t even ask for my number. So what, I had to jump through a few hoops so you felt okay about it. Trust me, it wasn’t a hardship. You were the m
ost honest girl I’d probably ever met.”
“This is so messed up.” I laughed. “Like so, so very, very messed up.”
“No, it’s not.” He softly brushed his lips against mine. “Now, get some sleep. You know how I feel about morning sex.”
“Yeah, I remember.” I was sure I was going to be walking funny as well. “I like your morning sex.”
“Good. So sleep.”
Chapter 9
Kyle
“Hello?”
The sound of her voice broke through like a sort of dream. I’d slept better than I had in a long time. Great sex will do that, and it had been a really long time since I’d had the kind that gave me that kind of exhaustion. Six months to be exact.
“Sorry, no. I’m really sorry. I’m . . . a friend.”
Well, that woke me, my eyes sliding open to see Sarah sitting up in bed in a panic.
“Um. Yes. Wait. Hang on. I’ll get him.” She held the phone out in front of her like it had suddenly developed teeth. Her head shook as she mouthed the words, “Sorry, I thought it was mine.”
“Hello,” I answered, not concerned that she’d answered my phone.
I didn’t have a secret double life, and she was aware I’d been far from a good boy so whoever was on the other side of that call was no threat to me. Again, evasive wasn’t in my repertoire.
“Kyle Mathew Drake.”
It was Keely, early I might add. But it was a Tuesday, and she would assume I’d be heading to work by eight, so a seven a.m. phone call was not suspicious.
“Three names, someone’s upset.”
“Don’t even start with me. You have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me? How long has this been going on? What’s her name? When do I get to meet her?” She fired out questions barely taking a breath, her voice hitching on excitement and a little anger no doubt. My sister had enough emotions for the both of us.
“If you want answers you should pause between questions.” My hand moved to Sarah’s arm, pulling her back into bed.
She’d probably assumed I wanted privacy and was attempting to get out of bed. But I already told her to expect morning sex and regardless of the phone call, that was happening.