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I don’t know whether to be delighted that her underwear doesn’t match or not. It confirms she didn’t plan to get busy with the date she kicked out, which buoys my spirit. Her bra is a simple black cotton while the panties are yellow lace boy shorts. And my thoughts register one word only.
Hot.
“These aren’t my newest or my best. Obviously, I didn’t know this would happen,” she says by way of explanation, but I’m thrilled. Elated, even.
“Do you have any idea how sexy these are?” I growl this more than speak it like a rational human being. Seeing her exposed like this is triggering something deep within me that I don’t know how to quantify. Also, my cock has become as solid as a load-bearing architectural feature.
The yellow is adorable, there’s no denying that, but it’s the black bra and how it stands out against her pale flesh that has me lathering at the mouth like some rabid animal. All those freckles that I’ve been wondering about are spread all over her skin like a star map, and the last thought that echoes across my brain is that I want to kiss every last one.
I carry her to the couch—no taking the time to reach her bed at this point—and lower myself so that I can clamp my mouth over her nipple right through her bra. She cries out and then hums, and nothing is stopping us now. My hands claw those lacey panties down her thighs, but I’m impatient and hear a rip. I glanced down feverishly to see that the tattered remains of that yellow lace is all that’s left of them, and I toss them away.
“Harrison…”
My name sounds like a plea on her lips, and I don’t know if I’ve felt this turned on ever. I pop the three hook on the back of her bra and fling it in the same direction that I threw the panties exposing her pale pink nipples. With her laying bare before me, I should take my time. But I can’t. I must have her.
Right now.
Tearing open my trousers and bringing down the fly enough to free myself, I notch my length to her entrance and feel the most welcoming slippery heat. Realizing she’s wet for me is all I can stand, and in the next moment I’m sliding in, then pushing all the way home.
We don’t slow as she writhes and rocks beneath me, her legs wrapping around my hips and drawing me in as if she feels as frantic for this as I do. We quickly find a natural yet speedy rhythm, and I can’t touch enough of her. My hands are rubbing against her neck, gently pinching her breasts, caressing the soft roundness of her stomach and her supple thighs. But it’s all too much. It’s so rapturous that I can’t delay my peaking pleasure much longer.
Yet coming first isn’t an option.
I lower two fingers to that perfect bundle of nerves above her core, stroking her, then delving my tongue into her mouth as I kiss her again, deeply. Trina arches her back, and I feel her cinching down on me in the most glorious of ways.
There’s no holding back as I rut into her, spilling inside this luscious body of hers as I experience an ecstasy that steals my breath away.
Once we’ve both tumbled past the summit, our inhales and exhales sputtering, our bodies perspiration slicked, I lift most of my weight off her. This proves tricky on the narrow cushions of her couch, and truthfully, I have no desire to move at this specific instant. But crushing her is something I refuse to do. When Trina wriggles, I somehow manage to remove myself from her entirely, hating the separation even as the sensation of gratified hormones flood my system.
We sit up, and I trace her cheekbone with my thumb. “Wow. That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
I’m about to elaborate when she cuts me off and yanks herself to her feet.
“I think you should go.”
Seven
Trina
“What?” he asks, and I wish he wouldn’t. Why won’t he just leave now that I’ve asked him to? “I think we have some things to talk about. And I’m not really ready to be away from you.”
He looks at me with what can only be described as puppy dog eyes, and I want to scream. I can’t believe I just gave in to my base desires like that, and him remaining here is doing nothing but remind me.
“You do understand that we’ve just been horribly disloyal to Jane.”
“I don’t agree,” he counters.
“We have, Harrison. She wasyourwife.” I smack my own chest which is regrettably still naked. “She wasmybest friend.”
“I’m aware of the relationships,” he snaps, his tone sharp and even a bit cold. But then he relents, his tone gentling. “Do you honestly think Jane would ask us to mourn her forever?”
“I don’t know.”
I’m shaking my head and feeling more deplorable than I might’ve believed possible. What we’ve done feels almost unforgivable. A wave of regret rolls over me and a tear rolls down my cheek. I swipe it away but he saw it.
Then, I feel his strong arms around me. “Oh, Trina honey, no. I didn’t mean to upset you. Never ever. She loved you with all her heart. She loved both of us. I think she’d want us to be happy.”
I know he’s right but the grief I feel is so, so strong. It should’ve been nice to hear that Harrison has feelings for me, too, but right now I just can’t focus on that. Sure, the intimacy with him felt awesome, but it’s like getting drunk. It might feel great to release all those inhibitions, but the hangover the next morning is a real bitch and a half.
