Sure we had spent twenty-four hours together, but we’d only fucked a few times, and the time on the boat was out of the blue. I’d needed it, though. I’d needed to get lost in the moment and forget the bitch who was trying to cause shit between Ashtyn and me for no reason. When I’d turned at my name, I almost thought my eyes were playing a trick on me. I never in a million years would have ever thought I’d run into Bridgette on a boat in the middle of Lake Michigan. As I stared into her brown eyes, I’d felt trapped. Or at least I thought I was. I was also mentally preparing myself for a catfight. However, Ashtyn dragged me down to the restroom using the nickname I had for her.
I fucking loved cupcakes.
As I grabbed my stuff from my desk, I reached for my phone from my pocket to send a text to Ashtyn. I’d been thinking about her for the past few days since our night and day together, but I wanted to let her come to me. However, the more I waited, the more I thought that maybe she was doing the same. If I wanted to continue whatever we had going on, then I needed to at least communicate and show her I was still interested. She was more than likely on her way home, and I wanted to see how her day had been. I wasn’t able to catch her broadcast today, and the nightly news seemed to be my new favorite show these past two weeks.
As I pulled up the text for Ashtyn, I received one from Bridgette instead.
I miss you, baby. Call me.
I stared at the words on the screen. When was this girl going to give it a rest? That’s what I got for dating someone ten years younger than I was.
“We still on for poker Friday?” Kenny asked, walking up to me. Every week the guys would come over to my place and bring beer and chips, and I would order a few deep dish pizzas. Since hockey games were on different days each week, poker was on various days that fit with our schedule. This week we were having it on a Friday night.
“Of course.”
“That Ashtyn?” Kenny nudged his head toward my phone.
“Bridgette,” I corrected.
He groaned. “What does that bitch want?”
We started to exit the building. “My connections.”
“She really thinks that after she told you straight up that she was only with you to meet hockey players you’d take her back?”
I shrugged. “She’s trippin’.”
“For reals. I never liked her. Sure she was nice to look at when she’d dance with her tits practically falling out at Judy’s, but I never knew what you actually saw in her. She wasn’t all upstairs either.”
“You waited long enough to tell me. What would have happened if I proposed to her?”
“I knew you weren’t that stupid.”
Luckily, I wasn’t. Kenny and I made it to our cars, and then each drove away. When I got home, I half expected Bridgette to be waiting for me. With my luck, she made another copy of my key. But when I opened the door, it was dark and quiet inside my condo. Peaceful even.
I turned on the TV to ESPN, trying to make the room feel less quiet and lonely, before making my way to the shower. Before I stepped in, I sent the text to Ashtyn that I’d wanted to send an hour before.
How was your night? I missed your broadcast, but I’m sure you were awesome.
Before I hit send, I thought about adding a winking smiley face. I didn’t. Instead, I sent the text then got into the shower. When I got out, there was a reply from Ashtyn.
Just another day reporting the news. I heard the Blackhawks won, so that means you had a good night too?
I smiled as I texted back.
They did. And I did. Are you home?
I silently prayed she’d invite me over as I slipped on my boxers. She replied:
I am. Are you?
Me: Yes. Want to come over?
I figured I’d at least ask her since she didn’t ask me first.
Ashtyn: I’m already in bed.
I could work with that.
Me: All right. So … what are you wearing?
A guy had to try. The dots danced across my screen as I ran to my living room, shut off the TV, and then crawled into my bed. It helped that the sheets still smelled like Ashtyn too. I could really get into this if she went along with my idea.
Ashtyn: Should my response be nothing?
I laughed.
Me: That would help with the visual I’m painting of you right now.
Ashtyn: Okay, then I’m naked.
I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but I went with it.
Me: In bed?
Ashtyn: Yes.
Me: Tickle your stomach.
Ashtyn: Tickle my stomach?
Me: Just go with it. Run your fingertips lightly across your belly and then up to your nipple.
Ashtyn: What are you doing while I pinch and rub my boob?
I didn’t tell her to caress her tit. She just went with it. All part of the plan. If she wasn’t really naked, I was certain she would be by the time I was done.
Me: What do you want me to do?
I watched the bubbles dance again. They’d start, then stop, then start again. Finally, I got a reply.
Are you naked?
Me: I am.
I lied, but quickly stripped off my boxers and threw them onto the floor to rectify the situation.
Ashtyn: Then I want you to pinch your nipple too.
I laughed.
Me: How did you know I liked my nipples pinched?
That wasn’t necessarily true. It had never happened before, but I decided to go with it.
Ashtyn: Because it feels good. Does it feel good to you?
Yep. We were totally going to do this. Ashtyn was on board.
Me: Yeah, Cupcake. Does it make you wet?
I was instantly at full mast when my brain thought about Ashtyn wet.
Ashtyn: Soaked.
I groaned and rubbed my hand over the tip of my hard dick a few times before I texted back.
Me: Send me a picture of your tits.
The three dots dance again on my screen as I held my phone with one hand and slowly stroked my cock with the other. Then they stopped, and I held my breath and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, my phone rang, and Ashtyn’s name appeared on the screen.
“Cupcake.”
“I’m not sending you a picture of me naked.”
Maybe she didn’t trust me yet. I’d win her over eventually. “You’re face doesn’t need to be in it.”
“I know.” There was a slight pause before she asked, “Are you hard?”
“Yes.” I resumed stroking myself slowly, not wanting to rush whatever was about to happen.
She moaned into the phone.
“Are you touching yourself?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Where?” I needed to make sure my visual in my head was correct.
“Between my legs. I can feel how wet I am through my panties.”
Oh, Jesus. Ashtyn wasn’t naked as she’d said in the earlier text, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was she was touching herself. “Fuck, Ashtyn. Keep going.”
She moaned again. “I’m touching myself, pretending you’re here with me.”
“I can be there in three minutes,” I stated and waited for the okay.
Instead, she said, “Tell me what you would do to me if you were here.”
Okay … “For starters, if I walked in on you touching yourself, your panties soaked, I would let you play with yourself while I watched.”
“Yeah?” She breathed heavy into the phone, and I knew she was really touching herself.
“Yeah. Can you do that for me? Pretend that I’m there.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Slowly I would walk to the bed then start kissing you. My tongue slipping into your mouth. You’d mimic with your fingers the way my tongue swirled around yours.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
I continued to stroke myself, still not rushing anything. “After a minute or so, I’d slowly lick
down your neck to your nipples, making sure they were just as hard as I was.”
“I’d like that.”
“Are you making your nipples hard, Cupcake?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Play with your clit again.”
She moaned again, and I knew her hand went straight between her legs. Fuck, I wished it was my own.
“I’d begin to kiss you lower and lower until I reached your hand that was against your pussy. I’d move it away and replace it with my tongue. Can you feel me?”
“Yeah,” she panted.
“While I’m working your clit with my mouth, I’d reach around to your thigh and slowly run my hand up to cup your ass, bringing your pussy closer to my face.” I had no idea what I was saying because if my face were between her thighs, there would be no room for me to tilt her hips. However, I’d press my face against her and go to town feasting on her cupcake.
“You’re good at licking icing.” She gave a slight chuckle that turned into another moan. Fuck I loved that sound.
“Yeah, baby. Your cupcake is like being on a high that never goes away. You ready for me to be inside you?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “God, yes.”
“Then I’d ease into you, stretching you with my dick until I was buried deep inside you.”
She let out another whimper, and I knew her fingers were inside her as she envisioned they were my cock.
“Does that feel good?” I asked, starting to glide my hand faster up and down my shaft. Pre-cum had already coated my hand, helping it move easily as I stroked.
“So good.”
We were both panting into the phone, and I was getting closer and closer to coming from just hearing her heavy breathing through the receiver. The thought of her bringing herself to the edge, pretending it was me, made me fucking hornier. God, the sounds she was making into my ear were going to stay with me forever. I knew that every time I jerked off from now on, I’d think of this moment, hear her breaths, her moans, her pants.
“Can you still feel me inside you?”
“Yeah,” she panted again. “I think I’m going to come.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, “me too, baby.” We both continued to breathe heavily for a few more moments, and just as I was about to come, I asked, “Are you ready?”
She didn’t respond with actual words. Instead, she moaned over and over, her gasps short as though she was thirsty for air. Then I heard her come. There was a slight pause in her breathing and I pictured the face she made that I’d seen twice before as she came. I followed, my own cum shooting out in ropes across my stomach.
We were silent other than both of our breathing trying to return to normal.
“Did you finish?” she asked after a few seconds.
“Yeah, Cupcake.”
“I wish you were here.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
I reached for a tissue on my nightstand to clean up. “Are you just saying that or inviting me over?”
She paused for a moment. “I am able to have multiple orgasms.”
“Fuck yeah you can, Cupcake.”
Ashtyn chuckled in my ear. “I’ll let my doorman know you’re coming.”
“I’ll be there in three.”
There was an extra pep in my step as I strolled into the studio the following day. I would say it was because I got laid, but when I was with Bridgette, our sex life wasn’t bad at all. I’d told Ashtyn that my sex life with Bridgette was awesome, and in the beginning, it had been amazing, but that died down over the two years. Was that how relationships worked? I’d had plenty of girlfriends over the last thirty-three years of my life, and I always thought my sex life was awesome. There was no way I could be bored while I drove into a woman, but being with Ashtyn was different.
“Someone’s happy this morning.” Kenny leaned against my desk, his arms crossed. Jett and Clark looked up and agreed with a nod each.
“Looking forward to taking all of y’alls money on Friday.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” I expected Kenny to walk off and get to work, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “But seriously. You and Ashtyn see each other last night?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Why are you so hung up on my relationship with Ashtyn?”
Kenny shrugged. “I actually like the girl you’re finally dating, and I’m hoping she has a single friend or two.”
“Or three,” Clark said in agreement. Jett nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
I chuckled without sound. “First off, we’re not dating. Secondly, I have no idea if she has single friends.” The three women Ashtyn was with at Judy’s on Saturday all had wedding rings on.
“Well, find out.”
“I know you need my help getting laid—”
“Fuck you!”
All of us laughed. “I don’t even know when I’m seeing her again. We aren’t dating, and have no future plans to see each other.”
Of course, I was going to try and rectify that situation, but I knew I needed to play it slow. We both weren’t looking for a relationship, and I didn’t want to come off as the guy who was using her for sex, even though I’d told her to use me. That was what I wanted the night we met, but now I genuinely liked everything there was about Ashtyn Valor. On some level, I wanted to get to know her better. I wanted to be that person she called when she needed to forget, and I wanted her to be that person when I did too.
Especially since Bridgette wasn’t leaving me alone.
Each day of work, we’d start with a meeting to discuss the upcoming broadcasts and assign each reporter to a story or stories to cover. While they were in the field, the news anchors usually did promo videos for their upcoming broadcast that night, followed by a lunch/dinner before getting ready to go on air. I didn’t miss being in the field, especially in the dead of winter, but there was one story I was hoping to cover.
“Are you sure you want to go back into the field again?” Leonard, my boss and the news director, asked.
I nodded, a smile spread across my face as we sat around the newsroom table for our daily meeting. “Yes.”
“Who wouldn’t want to cover the floating island?” Mitch asked sarcastically. “I’m jealous Ashtyn mentioned it first.”
“Yep, I call dibs.” I laughed. While we were a successful station and we had news reporters that covered the stories in the field, there had been exceptions. This was one that I hoped would get me out of the newsroom to actually report the news instead of only reading it. However, it wasn’t even close to being open yet. We still had to get through winter, but I saw a blog post this morning that they were making progress and I wanted to claim the story first. I wanted to get in contact with them and schedule a pre-launch interview, hoping I’d get to use the entire island for the day.
“All right. You got it.” Leonard nodded and wrote on his legal pad. “Anything else?” Everyone looked at each other as we shook our heads. “See you back here at nine.”
After my promo videos, I was craving a pumpkin spice latte and wanted it before we had to go live. “Hey. Want to go to Starbucks with me?” I asked Abby as I walked up to her desk.
“Can you bring it back? I’m waiting for a call back on a story I want us to break tonight.”
“Sure.” I smiled. “What do you want?”
“Grande pumpkin spice latte, please.”
“Got it.” She tried to give me money, but I waved her off. “My treat.”
After shrugging on my coat, I left to walk down the block to the nearest Starbucks. The sun had just set, and even though it was dusk, I could make out his car sitting at the light. I didn’t need to look in the window. I just knew. I knew by the feeling in my chest that the red Mustang idling two cars ahead was Corey. The closer I got, the more I prayed that the light would turn green.
But, of course, it didn’t.
My heart started to beat faster, and my pace started to slow as I walked by the car. I tried with all my might to
not turn my head and look, but of course, I turned my head, this time praying that he wouldn’t turn to look at me.
No such luck.
Our gazes locked, my feet faltered, and my breath caught. I didn’t stop, though. Instead, I turned my head quickly as though he was just another person in a car. Was this how my life would be now? I either needed to move or move on. That was why whatever I had with Rhys was good. I saved him from his ex, and he could save me from mine.
My legs moved again, and I quickly went inside Starbucks and pulled out my phone to text Rhys while I waited in line to order.
Me: Just saw fuck nut.
I loved the nickname Rhys had chosen for Corey. It fit perfectly. It also put a smile on my face as I typed the words and waited for his reply. I didn’t know if he’d reply right away, but I hoped so. I needed the distraction.
I ordered the coffees, and before my name was called, I received a text back.
Rhys: Where?
Me: He was at the light when I walked to get coffee on my break.
Rhys: Did he say anything to you?
Me: No. I kept walking.
Rhys: Where are you now?
Me: Waiting for my coffee.
My phone rang instead of a text. It was Rhys.
“Hey,” I answered.
“You okay?”
“Well, now I know how you felt on the boat.” Though his encounter was worse than mine. I wouldn’t even know what I would do if I came face to face with Corey. Like actually face to face and not twenty or thirty feet between us. I’d probably slap him.
Rhys chuckled in my ear. “Are you saying you want me to meet you for a quickie in the restroom?”
I smiled. If I didn’t have work, I’d take him up on it. Being with Rhys was like a mini getaway from all my worries. I’d say it was like a stress reliever, but it was more. It was as though we were meant to meet that night at Judy’s, meant to be each other’s escape.
“I would, but I have to anchor the news and all that.”
“Tonight after my poker game then.”
“You play poker?”
“Try to every week. Sometimes work gets in the way.”
“With your friends I met the other night?”
“Yep, and two other guys.”
“What time does it end?”
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