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“Oh, God, Aria.”
“I’m so sorry. I really am. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Please don’t tell anyone I brought you up here. My father would be pissed and he’ll drag me home to the boring suburbs, and my exciting pretend adult life in the city will be over!”
He exhales.
“You’re mad,” I say. “I know you’re mad. And… and I’m bad. I know that. This was bad. I’m bad. And I probably deserve to go home.”
“No,” he says. “That’s not what I’m thinking about right now.”
“You’re not?” I say, genuinely surprised because if I were him, I’d be thinking that yeah, this girl has no clue what she’s doing and has no business being left alone in her sister’s apartment in the city for four weeks.
But thank God, I don’t say any of that out loud. Instead, I say, “Then what are you thinking about?”
He looks at me hungrily. Like he’s the Big Bad Wolf and I’m Little Red. Like he wants to eat me up in one gulp.
And I look back at him like maybe I want him to do that.
“Two days?” he asks again.
“Yes.” I nod. “I’m meeting my parents for tea at the Corinthian and then we’re going to see that musical everyone’s talking about.”
“God help me,” he says.
“What? Why? I said I was sorry. Please don’t tell. Please,” I beg.
“I’m not gonna tell, Aria.”
“You’re not?” I brighten.
“Not if you don’t,” he says. And that hungry look is back. Only it’s like he’s starving and needs to eat something now. Anything, even if it’s me.
And to tell the truth, I feel the same way. My body is all tingly and my lips—I reach up to touch them. They feel all weird. His touch lingering. The minty taste of his mouth still fresh inside mine.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
He reaches for me, then steps back without touching. I want him to touch me, I realize. I didn’t intend for that to happen when I brought him up here, but I do.
But I see that he’s about to leave, to walk out and never come back, so I reach for him.
He shakes his head and backs away. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I just can’t…”
I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. So I say, “You can’t what?”
“I can’t help myself. I have to go before I do something stupid.”
“No!” I say, grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat. “Just… wait.”
He looks at me over his shoulder and says, “Aria. If I stay here another second I’m going to lift up your little skirt, pull down your pink panties, and stick my fingers inside you until you come.”
My mouth drops open.
“And if you open your mouth like that again, I’ll stick my cock inside it.”
I shut my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “That was so fucking inappropriate.”
Which it totally was. But it was also totally hot.
“I gotta go.”
And then he does. He leaves. He opens the door, walks through it in a rush, and closes it behind him.
And when I open it back up to call him back, he’s already out of sight. Nothing but footsteps on the stairs.
I close the door and lean against it, totally breathing hard and my mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
Mostly thoughts of him bending me over, lifting up my little skirt, pulling my pink panties down, and sticking his fingers inside me.
And I know I said I wasn’t going to use my sister’s toys but I’m already walking to the bathroom where she keeps them all.
I bend down in front of the vanity, wondering how he knew my panties were pink, then realize I walked up the stairs in front of him and gave him a peek up three whole flights—and stop.
“What the hell is this?”
I reach into the basket of sex toys and pull out a box with a note on it that says Aria in thick, black Sharpie.
“‘Because I know it’s temping and you are not allowed to use my toys,’” I say, reading her note. It’s a brand-new vibrator still in the package.
I slump down on the floor, my fingers so eager to open the package I end up just ripping the top of the box off, and pull out the bright pink vibrator along with the batteries.
Thirty seconds later the batteries are in and I turn it on, stare at it for a second as it hums and vibrates, then reach between my legs with one hand, pull my pink panties aside, and close my eyes so I can pretend Ryker is doing this to me. Then, with the other hand, I place the tip of the vibrator up to my clit.
“Holy shit,” I moan. “Holy fucking shit! Why didn’t I buy one of these years ago?”
I don’t last much longer than that one sentence. I can’t help it. It’s my first time. And my first time feels… spectacular.
