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Fuck, I wanted to close my eyes and ride the wave of pleasure he was putting me on, but he gave me an order, and some newly awakened dirty part of me liked him telling me what to do. I couldn’t stop watching him if I tried. He was so damn hot, and he seemed to enjoy eating my pussy.
I knew this was wrong. I wasn’t the kind of person who just fucked random guys and walked away, no worse for wear. I mean, more power to all the ladies rockin’ those one-night stands, it just wasn’t me. And really, he was not some rando I met at a bar.
This was Jeremy. My first love. Okay, my only love. This thing we’d started last night was messing with my head. He’d somehow arranged this, so I would be his plaything for the weekend, but I didn’t know if I could stand it that long. I didn’t know if my heart could hold out.
“Oh, oh, oh!” I yelled as I came on his tongue.
Then he was there, bending me over as he filled me from behind. I’d already heard a condom packet being ripped open, thought it was in the background when I’d been coming, but at least I didn’t have to worry about that. Jeremy wasn’t trying to knock me up, just fuck me silly.
I should’ve pushed him away. I should’ve stopped all this nonsense. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted him too badly.
I was weak, what could I say?
Chapter Eleven- Morena
An hour later, I was wearing Jeremy’s high school football jersey, measuring ingredients over a mixing bowl, while under my instruction, he grated three carrots he’d grabbed out of his greenhouse.
We ended up going back to Gramps’ house when it became obvious he did not have all the stuff I needed to make his coveted muffins. I was happy he allowed me to wear something other than that teddy, as per our arrangement, but I was shocked when he pulled this out.
Jeremy was a terrific athlete in high school. There’d even been talk of him going pro. It was a thing back then for boys to let their girlfriends wear their jerseys after homecoming. I’d always wanted to be that girl, but since our relationship was a secret, I never had been.
“There,” he’d whispered earlier when he’d slipped it over my head.
The gesture had touched me deeply, and I felt myself melting a little more towards the man I knew but didn’t. At some point, I’d have to make things clear about this weekend. This was a one off. A onetime thing. I didn’t fit into his world, and he didn’t fit into mine.
“Mind if I turn on the radio?” he asked, bringing the bowl of grated carrots over to me.
“Um, sure. It’s over there,” I said, but he seemed to know where it was.
“I visited after college, but you were never here,” he told me, and I thought I heard something accusatory in his voice.
“Oh, I stayed in the city, working,” I mumbled, not understanding why I needed to explain myself all of a sudden.
He frowned, watching me as I mixed the dry ingredients first, then the wet. The muffin batter looked great. Thick and fragrant, I added currants, walnuts, and the shredded carrots last. As I scooped the mixture into the paper-lined muffin pan, I gnawed on my lower lip.
The air felt charged, and I didn’t know what I’d done wrong or why I felt guilty suddenly. Bing Crosby crooned about white Christmases as I opened the oven and slid the tin inside, setting the time for nineteen minutes. I felt Jeremy’s fingers touch the small of my back, and I closed my eyes as he pulled me into him, swaying me gently to the music.
“This is good between us, Rena,” he whispered, but I was already shaking my head. “You can’t deny what we have,” he repeated.
“This isn’t real. This is just a made up weekend,” I told him, taking the coward’s way out. “Let’s just enjoy it, okay? We’ll spend Christmas together. Then you will go back to your life, and I will go back to mine,” I replied, ignoring the tears pricking my eyes.
But I’d forgotten how relentless Jeremy could be. He spun me around, one arm wrapped round my waist, the other holding my hand against his chest. I could feel his heart beating beneath the t-shirt he wore.
“Nothing has ever felt as real as this. I don’t want to go back to my life without you, Rena,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.
I turned my head at the last minute, pushing against the wall that was his chest. He released me and I stepped back, trying hard not to freak out. I wiped my cheeks hurriedly, putting away the ingredients I used for the recipe. The entire kitchen smelled like cinnamon and carrot muffins. They reminded me of Christmas in a way nothing else could, and for one tiny speck of time, I allowed myself a fantasy.
I saw me and Jeremy baking muffins on Christmas morning. Snow was falling outside the picture window, and the sounds of children giggling inside and carols playing loudly while a dog yapped at our feet and Jeremy spun me around and held me close, dancing and kissing me just like he did before.
But that wasn’t real. Jeremy and I were just worlds apart.
“Why won’t you give this a chance?” he asked.
I ran once, but I didn’t think it was fair for me to run again. Not from this question. This one I could at least answer.
“The last time I took a chance on the golden boy next door, the one I knew was too good for me, I wound up kicked to the curb, shamed and embarrassed,” I confessed.
“What?” he asked, looking confused.
