Sex is the cure-all for everything but cancer, if you ask me.
And death. It definitely cannot fix death. But anything else — My mind hooks onto that thought. Of dying. Of losing the people you love. Not getting to say goodbye. Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching fills my ears like a roar, and her screams rattle through my skull. Metal crunches.
I close my eyes.Deep breaths, Kasey.
This is not where I want my head to be right now.
I swallow the lump in my throat.Breathe. In and out. Come on. Fucking breathe. You’ve got this.I repeat the words in my head. Over and over but… Urgh!
Come. On.
Fuck.
I focus on the feel of Dominique inside me. Of his hands digging into my hips, fingers biting into my flesh. There will be bruises tomorrow, but I don’t care. I relish every mark he leaves on my body, and I admire them everytime I need to remind myself of what this feels like. Of how it can make everything else wash away. My breath catches in my throat and I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of his powerful body curling over mine, wrapping me in his heat and his strength. His chest brushes along my back and I shiver beneath him, sucking in another lungful of air.
That’s it. Right there. Focus on the good.Another deep breath, in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Don’t think about Mom. Think about sex. Think about getting right… there.
I score my finger-tips along the table’s edge and my toes curl as I chase my release. So fucking close, if I can just keep my mind in the gutter where it belongs…
I push my hips back and take Dom deeper, clenching my teeth against the sharp spear of pain because he’s big, and this angle, it’s a lot to take. But as he pounds in and out of me, whatever discomfort I’m feeling is washed away and replaced by a pleasure so intense that spots flicker behind my eyes.
Dominique’s hand tangles in my blond curls before he pulls back, forcing my gaze up. I shiver again, swallowing past my emotions. My back arches, the tendons in my neck straining as my body contorts to his will.
I snap my eyes open, but my gaze is unseeing, lost in the haze of lust and want and need.
“You like that?” he growls, his warm breath washing over the shell of my ear.
He’s close too and I fucking love it. When he gets like this, rough and dominant and… “Fuck, yes,” I hiss.
The sound of flesh against flesh fills the room. This has become a habit the past few months. Him in my room or me in his. We fight. We fuck. Rinse and repeat.
I’m grateful for it. I might despise Dominique ninety percent of the time, but that ten percent when he’s buried deep inside me, I actually like the smug bastard.
I crave him. Would give my left tit to have him. Just like this. Every night. And every morning.
Which is why this is so dangerous.
He’s Dominique Price for god’s sake, and I cannot afford to get hooked on him. Star football player and asshole extraordinaire. He’s the starting quarterback for Suncrest U, on the path to NFL stardom, and he’s been best friends with my older brother Aaron since they were kids. Now that they’re both in college, they live together. Rent this townhouse like two peas in a pod. Proverbial BFFs.
But despite all that, we both know this is one relationship my brother will never approve of, and one I know, without a shadow of a doubt, would never work between us anyway, even if he did. Assuming I actually wanted a relationship with Dominique Price.
Which, for the record, I don’t.
And he doesn’t want one with me either. We barely get along. If it wasn’t for our friends, we wouldn’t talk to one another, let alone force ourselves to be civil.
Okay, we’re not even that. But I mean, sometimes I try.
It doesn’t matter though. None of it does.
I need Dominique Price. I hate to admit it, but it’s the truth.
I’ve gotten more and more reckless as the weeks have passed. And if I don’t shape up and start being careful, we’re going to get caught. And screwing like this, a whopping twenty feet from the front door, is just plain stupid.
I know this. He knows this.
Did that stop either of us from doing it, anyway?
