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“Dylan,” she said, her voice was soft and sweet, like melted chocolate.
I stepped to the side and opened the door a bit wider.
“Do you—do you want to come in?”
She nodded and stepped inside the apartment. I closed the door behind her, and before I had even turned all the way around to face her, her lips were planted on mine. She ran a hand through my hair and grabbed my ass with the other one.
I parted her lips with my tongue and exhaled as I tasted her again. I grabbed her hips and pulled them to mine, as tight as I could possibly get them. I knew she could feel my growing erection, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how badly I needed her.
Grace wrapped her arms around my neck and I grabbed her ass to scoop her up into my arms. She lifter her legs and clenched them around my waist. She was wearing thin leggings, and I could already feel the heat coming from between her legs.
I carried her down the hall and into my bedroom, never once letting my lips leave hers. I tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. She smiled up at me and bit her bottom lip. Fuck, she was so gorgeous.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“What do you think I’m doing here?”
“I guess I can think of a few reasons.”
“Fuck me,” she commanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I didn’t need any more invitation than that. In an instant, all of our clothing was in piles on the floor, and my fingers were inside of her, teasing her and feeling her wetness. She moaned my name and clenched at the sheets as I brought her to orgasm again and again.
I flopped down onto the bed next to her, but when I turned my head to look at her, the bedding was perfectly smooth, and I was alone. I glanced around the room, but quickly realized that she hadn’t actually been there.
“Oh, shit,” I thought. “I’m in way too deep.”
The following weekend,I met up with Ella and her fiancé, Jonas, for drinks at one of our favorite places in the city. We had been going to this bar for years, and it was the one place in New York where I could go without anyone bothering me or asking for a selfie.
“I still can’t believe that you guys like this place,” Jonas said as we walked through the front door.
“Shut up, Jonas,” Ella and I said in unison.
She smirked at me and I led them to the bar, where there were plenty of open seats available. We sat down in a row, Ella in the middle, and Jonas and I on either side of her.
“Can’t you just tell me what it is that makes you keep coming back to this place?”
Ella sighed and placed a hand on his cheek, gazing at him with a loving affection and also a sense of exasperation.
“You’ll understand someday, sweetheart,” she said, planting a kiss on his forehead.
Jonas just shook his head and rolled his eyes at both of us. I had lost count of how many times we had tried to explain to him why we liked this bar so much, but we were never able to find the right words.
Maybe it was the fact that our dad had taken both of us here on our 21st birthdays. Or maybe it was the fact that it is the place where our parents fell in love. It was the place I decided to pursue music as a career. It was the place where Ella was when I called to tell her that our mom had died. And it was the place we came as a family after her funeral.
It wasn’t the most posh place in town. It wasn’t a tourist destination. It wasn’t well-kept or nicely decorated. But it was our place, and we only shared it with those who were most important to us, even if they didn’t understand the significance of it.
The bartender strolled up to us and gave us a quick nod.
“The usuals, I’m assuming,” he asked with a cheeky grin.
We all nodded at him, but he looked at me and lingered for a moment.
“Good to see you back, rockstar.”
“Bart, I’ve only been gone three months.”
