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“I know you can hear me. I want you to fuck me harder!”
I chuckle and slam into her, plunging deeper with each long stroke, just like she asked.
“God, you’re something else, you know that? You are suuuch a good girl when you use your words.”
That unleashes something in her. A sob escapes her lips, her pussy locks up on me, and she turns feral. I lift my arms and she takes over. Jesus, there’s no way I can last with her like this.
“Shit, Gray, slow down. I’m gonna come.” My hand connects with her ass again, and it does nothing to curb her movements.
“Come with me,” she pants.
What?
I’ve never comewithanybody before. I hesitate, but when she grinds against my cock again, that’s all the convincing I need. I wrap her hair around my fist and pull back, exposing her neck for my hand. “You ready to come for me?”
“Yes!”
I thrust into her repeatedly, and she shudders as her willpower fades.
“Show me how you come for me.”
I release her hair and neck, grip her hip with one hand, and reach around to slap her clit again. She’s clenching around me. Right before I come, her hips buck, and that coil inside me snaps. The sound of her pleasure ricochets off the walls—there’s no way the neighboring guests aren’t hearing this. I don’t care. My thrusts become uncoordinated, and I drive into her over and over as I fall over the edge right alongside her, gasping and panting.We come together.
While catching our breaths, her cunt still twitches around me. That was some damn good sex.
“Holy shit.”
She laughs—we’re both riding a post-sex high.
“Who are you?” I laugh with her.
“I’m Gray,” she says. “And you’re PB and J.”
“I may have chosen the wrong nickname. You’re anything but gray.”
With that, she turns around and kisses me.
* * *
By the time I leave her hotel room, it’s well after midnight. I forgot my to-go burgers, but that’s okay. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had with a woman in a long time. And not just because the sex was phenomenal, the girl fucks like a vixen. She’s funny, sweet, and didn’t once mention hockey. I want to see her again—another first for me. The only thing I have is her phone number. I’ll text her tomorrow and see if she wants to meet up again before she heads back to wherever she came from. Might be nice to grab dinner together and show her some of Minneapolis.
I stand in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows in my high-rise and look out over the skyline. Until tonight, I didn’t realize how lonely I’ve been. My condo is fully furnished, yet it feels so empty. Sure, there have been parties and pretty girls here—there have been lots of girls—but it’s never felt warm and inviting.
I’m beat, back in my bedroom, I try to add some coziness to the room as I brush my teeth. I pick up the remote for the fireplace and turn it on. It does nothing to help. Even with the ambiance of warm flames, it still feels like a frigid, sterile space. It’s not going to be fixed by some cinnamon and spice candle either. It’s probably something unobtainable, like family or love, that turns houses into homes.
October 15, 2000
This has been the most stressful week of my life! Everyone is breathing down my neck. Elizabeth has gotten us into a situation that I need to get us out of. Quickly. She always was such a problem child, if she would have just shown an ounce of obedience I wouldn’t be in this mess. I need a vacation. I hear the falls are beautiful this time of year.
SEVEN
Last night was incredible. That was the best sex I’ve ever had. With one of the best-looking men I’ve ever seen. He’s texted me to see if I want to get together tonight, but as much fun as that would be, I’ll probably never see him again. I have to do what I came to do.
The driveway to my parents’ house is longer than I anticipated. I don’t remember the house being set back that far. I’m unable to simply park outside and spy on them. I’m being such a stalker, but this feels like the safest option. I don’t have to give up my cards and wait for the shoe to drop. It’s my choice.
I’ve been parked on the street for over an hour. I’m tempted to pull into the driveway to see if they are even home. If I pretended to ask for directions, would they recognize me? Deep down, I think I’ve known this trip would result in some kind of confrontation, but I’m not ready to admit it to myself. This is, hands down, the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I’m terrified.
Something traumatic happened when I was six years old, but my mind has either suppressed that memory, or I’ve truly forgotten. For as long as I can remember, I was told that Julianne was my mom because my biological parents didn’t want me. After being told you’re unwanted so many times, you stop questioning it. I assumed that was a part of life. Some kids were adopted, and I was one of those kids. But as I look at it through the lens of an adult, it makes less and less sense.
