Fast

by Gillian Archer

  Ryan froze. “What?”

  “It’s just…I’ve been so selfish. Here I’ve come twice, and I’ve hardly even touched you.” I reached up to touch the bulge his boxer briefs couldn’t hide. Not that they were trying. After one soft, fleeting caress, his cock flexed, seemingly arching toward me.

  Ryan closed his eyes with a soft groan. “I guess we have a little time…”

  I laughed as I pulled him down to the bed next to me. Propping myself up on my elbow, I surveyed him from head to toe, lingering here and there on the interesting bits. After a second, my fingers joined my gaze as I softly petted my way down his body. I lingered on his muscular chest, kissing the interesting tattoos covering his skin. I traced the ridges of his muscles with my tongue, dipping into the valleys created by his carved musculature. When I reached the waistband of his briefs, he hissed out a breath.

  “I don’t know if I can take much more.”

  I bit my lip as I peeled back the fabric covering him and he helped me, arching his hips to move it along. “We haven’t even gotten started.”

  “I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you.” He groaned as I took his hard length in my hand.

  My tongue darted out and softly licked the head like it was my favorite flavor of ice cream. I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. He was biting his bottom lip like he was in pain. I continued licking, and after a minute he burrowed a hand in my hair then moved his other hand over mine where I held his cock.

  “Squeeze me a little tighter.” He hissed. “Yess. Just like that. Aww, fuck.”

  Something about him telling me what to do got me even more excited. My thighs felt slippery as I knelt and took the head of his cock into my mouth. Moving my hand up to my lips, I worked them together as I swallowed as much of his length as I could. Gagging slightly, I backed off and tried again. He bit off a curse and his hand fell away from mine over his cock. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fist his free hand in the sheet next to his hips. Feeling smug now, I moaned deep in my throat and moved down his length once more.

  Once I got the mechanics down, I have to admit, I felt powerful. And sexy. I had this gorgeous, built, hot guy at my mercy. Begging for me to do what I wanted to him. I felt a deep pulsing between my thighs. It felt good. I wanted more.

  I was just building a comfortable rhythm when he pushed me off him.

  “Wha—” I blinked down at him in confusion.

  “Sorry, beautiful. But much more of that and I would’ve lost it. And I’ll be damned if I’m not inside you the first time I come. Or the next time you come, for that matter.” He reached over for his wallet and pulled out a condom. Then with efficient movements, he rolled it on himself while I sat there and drooled. Literally. There was just something so sexy and effortless about the way he unselfconsciously moved. He handled himself with ease. I wished I felt that graceful.

  With the condom in place, he leaned forward and gave me a kiss. “You got any preference on how we do this the first time? Any specific positions on that sex bucket list you wanna try out?”

  I shook my head.

  “I really wanna look into those gorgeous doe eyes the first time I take you.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, suddenly shy. I let him maneuver me into place on my back in the middle of my bed with him looming over me.

  He looked down me and groaned. “Let me know if I move too fast. We’ll take this at your pace, okay, beautiful?”

  I nodded.

  And then he was pressing into me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on as his cock moved into my body slowly, deeply, until finally his hips rested against mine. He kept his eyes on our sex—the rapt, heavy lidded stare transfixed me. Then they flicked up to mine. “You okay?”

  I felt…full. And aching. I arched up to him, craving that grinding pressure and he chuckled.

  “You’re okay.”

  Then he started moving. Finally. But oh so slowly.

  I must’ve made some noise in frustration because he froze. His eyes still trained on mine with narrowed intent. Then after a beat he moved again, but still so, so slow.

  I got the message.

  Instead of trying to control his movement, I just held on and let him go.

  He thrust into me. Slowly. Deeply. I looked into his eyes and felt something just as deep. I didn’t understand it. And I didn’t have time to examine it. I was climbing higher and higher. But I needed something more. I wanted…

  Without moving or even telling him, his hand moved between our bodies. That clever finger of his found my clit. He thrust once. Twice. And on the third time, I lost it. It felt like my body exploded and melted all at the same time. I didn’t have control over anything. I couldn’t do anything but feel.

  And as I came down from my high, I noticed that Ryan was frozen above me. “Did you…?”

  He shook his head tightly.

  And I melted a little more. This man.

  I widened my thighs and arched up toward him. His eyes fixed on mine and he thrust again. And again. And again. The entire time we held eye contact. Somehow that felt more intimate than anything we’d done together. And then with one more thrust, Ryan lost it.

  He threw his head back with a shout then he clenched his jaw. Tendons stood out on his neck, his muscles in all their glory just right there for me.

  I couldn’t resist.

  I reached up and petted him, softly moving my hands over his body until he collapsed onto me with a soft grunt.

  We lay there for a few moments, limbs all tangled up as I tried—and failed—to figure out what just happened. This didn’t feel like a fuck between two strangers. But then again, I’d never done that before, so what did I know?

  All I knew was that this felt so much more powerful and right than any other first time between either of my ex-boyfriends.

  But what did that mean?

  Finally Ryan pushed himself up and gave me a little grin that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I’m just gonna go take care of…”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I smiled weakly.

  Not that he’d noticed. I was talking to the back of his head.

  Chapter 5

  Ryan

  She scared the shit out of me. I’d never met a woman before who was just so…everything. She made me feel things—emotions, sensations—I’d never felt before. I wanted to stay forever and run for it at the same time. Hope was so fucking dangerous, and she didn’t even know it.

  I leaned against the bathroom counter and stared at my reflection. I wasn’t ready for something like this—a relationship. I was only twenty-seven. I thought I’d have another five years or so to play around before I found the one.

  The one.

  What the fuck was wrong with me? This was supposed to be a one-night stand. What was it that Austin used to say? “Wham, bam. I’ll see myself, out ma’am.” I was a Burns brother. We weren’t built for happily ever afters and white picket fences. We were so damaged that we screwed up everyone and everything we came into contact with. Hell, it was practically my brand. From high school with my minor in possession of alcohol charges to that time I got evicted after the crazy party I threw that caused a tiny bit of damage to some common areas. Technically it wasn’t my fault—I wasn’t the one who threw the sofa into the pool from the third-floor balcony. Not that my landlord bought the argument. But bottom line, I didn’t do relationships. I hadn’t since high school, and it had worked just fine for me up to now.

  Filled with a new resolve, I turned to dispose of the condom.

  Fuck!

  My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

  The condom ripped.

  The condom ripped.

  The refrain buzzed through my head, competing with the sound of my heartbeat.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I pulled the tattered condom off and washed up as much as I could, but I couldn’t deny that some of my spunk had escaped. I’d chalked up the wetness on my thighs to how charged up Hope had been, but now I knew. />
  Fuck.

  I had to tell Hope. All that bullshit about how I’d take care of her was clearly that—bullshit. Fuck.

  Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe she was on the pill. Maybe it was the wrong time of the month and this all wouldn’t blow up in our faces.

  After taking a deep breath, I shook out my arms then grabbed a towel to pull around my waist. I couldn’t do this bare assed naked.

  Opening the door, I found Hope sprawled out on her side on the bed, naked, with a drowsy, content expression on her face.

  “Hey.” She pushed herself up on her elbow. “What’s with the towel? You feeling shy all of a sudden?”

  “Hope. I uh, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.”

  “What?” Her brow wrinkled with a frown as she sat up. “What’s going on? Are you okay, Ryan?”

  I looked away and scrubbed at the back of my head with a hand. “Fuck. I’m sorry. But the condom ripped. I don’t… Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” Hope sat back against the headboard, her face blank.

  “Yeah. Pretty sure that wasn’t on your sex bucket list.” I joked weakly before clearing my throat. “Uh, I’m clean. I swear this has never happened before. And I was at the doctor just a month ago for my physical, so you’re protected there, but…”

  “But not against the other,” Hope finished softly.

  “Right. I uh, this is awkward to ask, but are you on the pill or a different kind of birth control?”

  Hope closed her eyes and shook her head. She reached for the sheets at the bottom of the bed and pulled them up and over her.

  “Okay. There’s no reason to panic. I’ll just run out and get a morning after pill. They sell them in drug store all over the state. No worries.”

  Hope made a sound halfway between a laugh and sob then buried her face in her hands. Her voice was muffled when she finally spoke. “I can’t take the pill.”

  “You can’t?” I repeated weakly.

  Hope nodded, still not looking at me. “The morning after pill is just a high dose birth control pill, and I can’t take the pill. The last time I was on it I had huge mood swings, depression, anxiety. It wasn’t pretty. I can’t—won’t take it again. I won’t put myself through that again.”

  I closed my eyes with a muttered curse then sighed. “Well, that still doesn’t mean you’re going to conceive, right? Maybe it’s the wrong time in your cycle or whatever.”

  “When have I ever been that lucky?” She chuckled darkly then shook her head. After swiping under eyes, she picked at the comforter covering her legs. “Like mother, like daughter. I should’ve known.”

  “Known what?” Was she blaming me? Thinking that I did this on purpose or something. That was fucking insulting.

  “I should’ve known that I can’t let loose and have fun—any kind of fun.” Hope shook her head and looked somewhere over my shoulder, but the heartbreak in her eyes tore me up. After a second, she ducked her head to swipe at her eyes again. “From the time I was little, my mom let me know that getting pregnant was the worst thing that could happen to you. She never came out and said that I ruined her life, but that was the subtext. She screwed my head up so much that I didn’t even lose my virginity until my second year of college. I was nineteen the first time I ever had sex. Hence the sex bucket list. I’ve played by the rules my entire life, and the one time I have a little walk the on the wild side, this happens.”

  “Fuck, Hope. I didn’t—you never said—”

  She still wouldn’t look at me. “It’s fine. But uh, maybe it would be better if you go? I’m sorry, I’m just… really not in the mood to talk anymore. Or in the mood for anything else.”

  I reached for the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Spying my jeans at the bottom, I untangled them then pulled them on. “And you’ll tell me if you’re… Whichever way, I wanna know.”

  “I said it’s fine, Ryan. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  My scalp prickled. “What the fuck does that mean.”

  Hope finally looked at me and the hurt in her eyes tore something loose inside of me. “It means it’s my body, my decision.”

  “Fine. I’m not arguing that.” But I couldn’t deny it rankled me that she would make this decision—if there was a decision to be made—on her own. I knew better than to tilt at that particular windmill. I’d been raised by one tough woman who’d drilled that refrain into our brains at a very early age. “But you’ll let me know? If…”

  I couldn’t even finish the sentence. If there wasn’t anything to worry about? If she was pregnant? If she decided to have an abortion? If, if if…

  Hope crossed her arms over her chest, still not looking at me. “I swear, I’ll let you know. I just, I’m kind of tired, you know?”

  “No, I got you. I’ll just…” I paused not sure how to even finish that. Run away with my tail between my legs? Say a few prayers that you’re not pregnant? Either way I sounded like what I was—an entitled prick who didn’t want a kid. And Hope… I didn’t even know what to say to her to make this better. She seemed to have turtled into herself and checked out. But I couldn’t leave her like this. That feeling just minutes ago hadn’t disappeared. My heart hurt because I knew she was hurting.

  I pulled my shirt on over my head then grabbed my socks and boots. Turning to Hope, I held them loosely at my side. “Maybe we could get together later and have dinner or something.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She replied flatly. “Maybe.”

  Fuck. What should I do? What could I say?

  I bounced my boots against my thigh. “I really mean it, Hope. I want to see you again, and I want to be there for you whatever happens—baby or no baby.”

  “Thanks, Ryan,” she whispered before she swiped at her eyes again.

  “I’ll leave my number on your kitchen counter. Call me. Please?”

  She nodded again but didn’t say anything.

  I felt like a heel, but I didn’t know what to say or do. So, I left the room, gently closing the door behind me.

  Standing in her living room, I remembered the feeling I’d had just an hour ago—all filled with sexual tension and need and awe that this woman had let go so spectacularly still fully clothed. I’d been right—it was so much more explosive once we took our clothes off.

  So explosive that we’d ripped a condom.

  That amazing feeling was gone, and now I just felt hollow.

  I pulled on my socks and boots while staring at her closed bedroom door, but I couldn’t hear anything. If she was crying or screaming into her pillow, I couldn’t tell. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how.

  Instead I grabbed the magnetic pad on her fridge and wrote down my name and number. All I could do was hope she’d reach out.

  Then I left with the biggest hole ripped open in my heart and no idea how to fix it. I didn’t even mind the spring rain that came out of nowhere.

  It fit in perfectly with my mood.

  * * *

  I tried to spend the next day holed up in my condo, but that wasn’t possible when my brother was my neighbor. I knew the knocking wouldn’t end until I opened the door.

  My younger brother, Dylan, had been my partner in crime my whole life—we were thick as thieves, literally, since we pulled that five-finger discount at the corner store when I was seven and he was six. At least I knew I wouldn’t get shit from Dylan if he knew who I went home with last night—unlike my older brothers. I never seemed to do right in their eyes.

  “What the hell, bro.” I muttered as I pulled the door open. “It’s too fucking early for this shit.” I’d gotten home around two but had spent at least an hour staring at my ceiling, thinking about what I should’ve said, and all the ways my life could implode in a few weeks. I was usually a morning person, but not when I hadn’t had any sleep the night before.

  “Lemme in. I need coffee.” Dylan brushed past me and headed straight for the kitchen like he lived here.

  Hell, he practically did. I k
ept my kitchen fully stocked, unlike him. I liked eating, and under Aunt Wendy’s tutelage I’d developed a love of cooking. I half thought it was the reason Dylan bought a condo right next to mine. This way he didn’t have to worry about cooking for himself. The mooch.

  I followed Dyl into the kitchen and couldn’t help but laugh. Dylan stared at the empty coffeepot like it was a personal affront. Since I’d only gotten out of bed to let him in, I hadn’t had a chance to make any.

  Dylan turned to me and all but whimpered, “Why?”

  “Because it’s the butt crack of dawn? What do you want from me? I just got up.”

  “I want a freaking cup of coffee,” Dylan groaned.

  I rolled my eyes and stumbled to the cabinet. “You know there’s a machine in your place that makes the same magic that mine does, right? You just gotta put the grounds here and then fill it with water here.” I matched my actions with the words. I could’ve performed the task blindfolded. “And then the magical, life affirming liquid comes out there.”

  Dylan tossed me a dirty look before he turned to cupboard to grab mugs. “You say that like it tastes the same when I make it.”

  I laughed as I took the offered mug. “It is literally the same stuff that I have. How can it taste different?”

  “I don’t know, but it does.” Dylan hovered over the percolating pot like a helicopter parent with their firstborn.

  The thought gave me a pang. Would that be me in a year? Or would I be wondering what if, if Hope chose to go a different way? Fuck. I had to stop thinking about it. There wasn’t anything I could do until we found if she was actually pregnant. I was probably worrying about nothing.

  “So, what happened last night?”

  I whirled around at Dylan’s question. “What?”

  “Come on. You went home with a club girl, and I don’t get any details? You don’t look beat up, so I’m guessing her old man didn’t walk in on you. But seriously, bro, what the fuck were you thinking?”

  I shrugged uncomfortably. Usually Dylan and I talked a bit about the girls we saw, but telling him about Hope made me feel weird. And I really didn’t want to think about why. “She doesn’t have an old man.”