Sleeping with Mr. Sexy(20)

He grabs my hand, and pulls me toward the kitchen. “Oh, no! We’re not kids anymore, Lydia. We’ve wasted enough time.” Taking my purse from me, he sets it on the counter. “You won’t need this until morning, babe.”

His directness is fucking sexy. I shiver in anticipation of his plans.

I distinctly remember being more direct myself when we were together the last time…

The going away dinner tonight was lovely. Dancing at the club was fun with my friends all there, but having sex with Chase tops the night. It felt so good that I wake Chase up for round two. He’s always been a good listener. He was more than happy to oblige my needs when I moaned my requests. As he holds my hips, I look down at him as I rock on top of him toward my release. I’ve never even wanted a round two before, and I can already envision round three happening before morning.

I’ve also never had two orgasms from sex. Fuck, I’ve never even had one orgasm from sex that I didn’t help along myself in some way. Yet, he did this to me. He gave me two in one session. He’s got me craving him in very naughty ways. It’s as if I can’t get enough of the feel of him inside of me as we move. His fingers find my swollen center, and he rubs fantastic little circles while his face contorts in sexual contentment.

Building. Building. Building. The feeling blooms inside. Just as he announces his imminent release, I come. We come together.

He falls asleep next to me as I stroke the back of his head, cuddling with him. As he drifts off into a deeper sleep, he mumbles, “I love you, Lydia.”

My heart stops. My breath stops. My hand stops.

I stare at him in disbelief. He can’t love me. We’re best friends. This was just a one-time thing, something we needed to get out of our systems. I’m leaving… I look over at the clock… in less than eight hours. This was just drunken fun. No more. No less. He loves me in the best friend kind of way, the same way that I love him. The way that I love him? But, as much as this realization weighs on me, the alcohol and exhaustion kick in and weigh me down faster. I blink my eyes slowly several times, fighting the inevitable but lose.

When I wake, I’m groggy, but I know I need to get going. Leave it to the alcohol to make me do something stupid. I had managed not to jump his sexy ass for six years, and, now on my last night here, I give into desire. Dread and regret settle in as I realize that most of my memories from last night have escaped me. It will never be the same with him again. He won’t look at me the same way. Last night, I lost all logic and gave into need and desire. I close my eyes and try to clear my fuzzy head.

I need to drag myself from bed, and get out of here before he wakes up and looks at me that way, that way that will make me feel pathetic. It was a pity farewell fuck, and that’s all. I need to get out with the sliver of pride I still have left and focus on the job I love. Focus on that—my number one priority.

The difference between the memories from the first time we hooked up years ago to now in present day is that my priorities changed when I confessed my love to the man of my dreams. Unlike before, there will be no sneaking out this time. I snuggle down, but when the sun comes blaring in this morning, I realize I imagined waking up in Chase’s arms a lot differently. “Have you ever heard of blinds?”

He chuckles against my back, making the bed bounce. “Yes, but I was sort of too distracted last night to close them,” he says, his voice sleepy with a husky tone.

That makes me smile and I roll onto my other side to face him. His eyes are still closed as he tries to hold onto sleep a bit longer. I stroke the back of his head, my fingers dragging through his hair and repeating the action.

His eyes finally open, and he smiles when he looks at me. “You stayed. Guess the double deadbolt wasn’t necessary, after all,” he chuckles, closing his eyes again.

“Very funny. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” I sit up, and the sheet flows down my body, exposing my bare chest. I quickly grab at it, covering myself up. I need to be covered in some form when baring my soul to him. “Anyway, I liked the sex too much.”

“Is that all we did? Have sex?” he asks playfully, running the tip of his finger against my naked thigh under the sheet.

“Ha ha. You know what I mean.” I look down at him. He’s turned onto his stomach and completely fascinated by what his finger is doing.

His eyes dart up to meet mine, and he says, “Tell me, Lydia. Tell me what we did last night.” He’s smiling, so I know he’s teasing me. He wants me to reveal my feelings first.

I play along. “Did weee… fuck last night? Is that what you want me to say?”