Bossy(8)

He sinks into me slowly, giving me all of him in one long, smooth thrust. So big, he stretches me open and takes my breath away. Lying over me, he supports his weight on his hands while his powerful hips drive his length deep into my core.

I’ve never come so quickly from sex alone, but all the tension that built up while he licked is threateningly close to releasing. I arch against him while I reach up and slide my fingers into his hair, clutching him to me like I’m afraid he’ll disappear.

“So hungry,” he whispers, his voice rough in my ear. “You’ve been starving too long, baby.”

I don’t care that he’s cocky anymore, because he’s right. Nobody has ever given me this before, and I’m just starting to see how much I’ve been missing. If I only have tonight, I’m going to savor every second of it.

My screams echo in my ears as I come apart around him, just like he promised. The world falls away, giving way to swirls of color and flashes of light. Fireworks go off behind my eyelids, blinding me while he keeps fucking me with steady strokes. I’m floating and I don’t ever want to come back down.

“More.” I arch my back and pull him deeper.

He chuckles and gives me what I need. “Now who’s bossy?”

He makes good on his promise, driving me over the brink more times than I ever dreamed possible before he finally groans, presses deep and stops moving. His wears a faraway look, and there’s a content smile on his face as he lets go. He’s kept his promises and then some, but he can’t claim for a second that he hasn’t gotten plenty out of this too.

Empty, he rolls off and drops onto his back next to me. We’re both breathing like we’ve finished a marathon, but it’s not long before he thickens again. I must look shocked when I take in his quick recovery, since he laughs when I do, right before he reaches over to pull out another condom. I didn’t even know guys could go more than once, but he’s not getting any complaints from me.

He climbs over me, and then I forget everything as he takes me again. And again.

Eventually we wring each other dry, and he captures my mouth with his before thrusting deep and shuddering one last time. When we finally drift off into sleep, me curled up in his powerful arms with his broad chest against my back, it’s closer to early than late. He’s kept his promise. This might’ve been the best night of my life.

When I wake up, it’s the crack of noon, and he’s long gone. A quick pang of disappointment surprises me. I knew the deal, and I guess he spoke the truth. He fulfilled his promises, and sticking around wasn’t on the list. Still, it would’ve been nice to find him here when I opened my eyes, even if it was just for another go.

I glance around my room, wincing at the sight of my clothes strewn all over the floor along with enough condom wrappers to make me do a double take.

With a sigh, I shake my head and try to grasp what I’ve just done. A one night stand. Exactly the sort of thing I usually frown at other people doing.

At least my clothes for today are still neatly folded on the chair. My apartment isn’t large, but without all of Michael’s stuff, it feels really empty. I had no idea how much of what we had was his until it was suddenly gone. Not that I miss any of it. Well, maybe his espresso machine.

But like Michael, I’m sure it can be replaced.

My bed is really big and empty without someone to wake up with. It’d been nice to fall asleep next to someone last night, even if it was fleeting. It’s probably for the best that we didn’t exchange information, because it would be all too easy for me to beg for a repeat performance.

This way I can keep my pride because I know it’s not going to happen. It was just sex. Great sex, but just sex. I’m grateful he showed me how much more I should expect from a lover, but what else could there be? Nothing but heartache over a man who makes no promises.

Besides, I don’t even know his name.





Claire


- Four Months Later -

The elevator dings when I reach the top floor. Fifty-four freaking stories up. As a lowly intern, I have to take what they give me, but I hope there’ll be a window where I sit. The view’s got to be incredible. On a beautiful June day like this I bet you can see forever from up here.

Maybe I’ll sneak a picture later, but I want to look professional, not like some country yokel on her first visit to the big city. I straighten my skirt in a hurry and tug at my lapels before the door opens. Even and neat.

Stepping out, it’s like walking onto the set of a 1950s office drama. Dark red wallpaper. Small chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. A massive reception desk made from solid polished wood. Behind it is a large open office area full of busy employees typing away on their laptops. Good to see not everything is stuck in the 50s, but there’s a real typewriter on a table further back, set up like a display piece.