“Fuck, if you keep making those sounds, I’m going to come right now,” Grant groans.
I’m moaning, I realize, too overwhelmed to say actual words as Grant works his magic on me. I’m trying to make him touch me again, unable to even form the sounds to beg for it.
“Fuck…” I groan out, my eyes rolling back. “It’s too much, Grant. Just fuck me already.”
“When I’m ready,” he says, and I groan, because he is doing this deliberately. At least I’m not the only one getting tortured right now. He’s torturing himself as well.
“Fuck you,” I say half-heartedly.
“It’s my turn tonight,” he says with a smirk.
I don’t even have a good retort from him. I’m shaking with need, helpless against his ministrations as his hands run up my body, pinching my breasts and gently urging my legs apart. Are we going to have sex out here? It would certainly fit the theme of couch sex that we seem to have going on.
Grant laughs and I realize I’ve said the words aloud.
“No,” he says, and his voice is deep and dark with promise. “I’m going to eat you out right here. Then we’re going to go to bed and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”
My breath catches in my throat and my eyes flutter closed.
I can’t wait. I can deal with the repercussions of this tomorrow.
Whatever Jessica thinks, I know how much I’m going to regret this in the morning.
I just can’t bring myself to care about it right now.
Jessica is sprawled beneath me, her body ready and willing, waiting for my touch and for me to follow through on my promises. Even when I’m angry, I know how beautiful I find her. And, right now, she’s absolutely stunning as her naked body gleams with sweat and her hair, which has long since dried after her run through the rain, musses around her head.
There’s a part of me, though, that’s screaming with fury. Not at Jessica, but at myself. Am I really falling for this again? I think Jessica made the first move, not counting accidental finger brushes, but I certainly haven’t complained. In fact, I intentionally kissed Jessica before she could say anything about stopping for our own good. Jessica might have straddled me first, but I’m the one who is letting this continue on.
Because, despite everything, I want Jessica. I want her so badly. I still haven’t figured out if I want her, or if it’s just her body that I’m craving, too addicted to the feel of her skin and the taste of her lips to drag myself completely away from her. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. This addiction didn’t start, after all, until we first had sex at the bar on Friday night. Ever since then, part of my mind has been continuously ticking it over, remembering how it felt, and how it felt to have her in so much control.
Every little memory of both times that we have had sex is incredibly powerful, and I can’t get her out of my mind, no matter how much I want to. Even when I’m sober, the majority of my thoughts are taken up by her, my anger masking my hurt and confusion.
I still don’t know how I’m letting this happen again. I don’t know, yet, why she left me, and she’s remaining stubbornly quiet on the matter, despite wanting to start again in some way with me. Part of me thinks that I should just demand that she tells me everything before we ever see each other again, but that would be impossible, too. Even if I decide I hate her, I’ll still have to see her if I want to see Owen. Jessica and I are bound together now, by parenthood. If we want to be good parents to our little boy, we both need to get along in some way.
Still, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Getting along shouldn’t mean having sex at every possible opportunity. I’m so fucking weak when it comes to Jessica, and it’s showing. Despite how many times I bluster and tell her I don’t want her, that I just want an amicable relationship for Owen’s sake, my body tells on me every single time. I can’t walk away from Jessica. I’m trapped as long as I can’t escape the addiction of her touch.
“Do you have any fucking clue what you do to me?” I ask her roughly. “Your touch haunts me. I still know every part of your body, but I can’t wait to explore it again and again and again. I want you so badly, and I hate how much I want you.”
She moans loudly. She’s too far gone, I think, to completely hear what I just said, especially that last part, which slipped out without my permission. It’s the truth, though. I hate how emotionally connected to her I am. I hate being around her, but I want to drag her toward me. I want her to disappear, but there’s part of me that needs her to be around. I don’t want her in my life anymore but, at the same time, I can’t just walk away. It’s impossible. No matter how many times I try, I always end up craving her.
Is this what you wanted, Kyle? I wonder. I wonder what was going through my friend’s head when he gave Jessica my address. Not that I mind; I would have had to give it to her soon, anyway, so she could bring Owen around sometimes.
“I want you,” I whisper in her ear.
“Fuck, Grant, I need you,” she groans, her back arching.
It’s taking all the control I have not to just unzip my pants and take her right now. Her legs are twitching, and I can see the glistening moisture between her legs. She’s been ready for me for some time now, and she wants me badly enough that she doesn’t even care that I’m still dressed.
But a promise is a promise. I pull back and kneel beside the couch. Confused, Jessica’s eyes open and she looks at me. A moment later, though, comprehension hits and her head falls backward once more, already anticipating just how overpowering the sensations that I will be making her feel will be.
“Are you ready?” I ask huskily.
“Yes,” she groans.