Secretly More

Chapter Four

Before last night, Kimber had never been fucked before.

She didn’t even count the brief, unmemorable encounters she’d had before Dane, with whom she’d come the closest to simulating sex. They’d indulge in the obligatory routine of kissing this, groping that, licking and sucking until their tongues got tired. Then he’d wrap his dick in latex and slide it inside her, and it’d feel okay. Sometimes he’d hit the right spot in the midst of his erratic thrusting, and sometimes she’d near a climax. Then he’d shudder with a groan and pause, resting his sweaty forehead against her collarbone, and she’d fight waves of impatience and frustration and rage at how fucking unfair he was. But he’d kiss her and tell her how amazing she was and that he loved her, and no one had ever told her that. He made her feel like a sex goddess, and for a moment, that power would overshadow her dissatisfaction and she’d forget that he could sleep easy with the knowledge he’d never once made her come. She construed her sexual pleasure a low priority, prided herself on her prowess, and moved on.

Then came last night.

Good fucking God.

Kimber had emerged from Moquest’s bedroom after getting dressed, but there was no sign of her mystery lover. Not that she knew what he looked like or even his name, which made the whole thing even more deliciously wrong, but she was past the point of labeling the situation. She’d raced downstairs to find that the Spin the Bottle game had broken up and everyone was sloppy drunk, all remnants of the sexual atmosphere good and murdered. There was no indication that it ever even took place, and Kimber had wondered if anything that had happened since she’d arrived had been real.

She’d found Moquest simultaneously dumping various cheap liquors into his homemade jungle juice and still hitting on passing girls. Between that and Gina’s participation in Spin the Bottle, Kimber couldn’t figure out the happy couple. She had latched onto his shoulder, and he did a double take, as if he didn’t recognize her. “Hey, where’ve you been?”

“Upstairs, where you sent me.”

Moquest’s eyes had widened. “You’ve been up there this whole time? Doing what?”

Her face had flamed. “Reading to the blind, what else? Now just tell me who you sent up there after me.”

It was impossible for him to have looked more shell-shocked. “You don’t know?”

“Matthew!” She’d given his upper arm a punch to mask her humiliation. “Stop with the games and tell me.”

Moquest had stopped pouring both the gin and the juice into his potent concoction as his expression contorted into one of discomfort, like he had a question but didn’t know how to ask it. His brow furrowed as he’d clucked his tongue against his teeth. “I can’t tell you,” he’d said after a long pause. “I was sworn to secrecy.”

Before she could protest, he’d changed the subject and resumed his efforts in mixology. “Hey, have you seen Jay?”

She’d hadn’t, but she didn’t feel like admitting that, considering helpful was the last thing Moquest was being. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.” She’d given him what she hoped was a mysterious look and walked away, putting a knowing twitch in her step.

Kimber had left the party then as if in a trance, her whole body still buzzing and feeling like it no longer belonged to her. She’d slid behind the wheel of her car and driven home, the experience having sobered her yet she felt higher than a skyscraper. She’d just let a complete stranger do things to her that she hadn’t let Dane do until three months into the relationship. What the hell had gotten into her? She’d behaved out of character, engaging in anonymous sex, yet it had felt so natural that maybe she’d just discovered who she really was.

She’d returned to her apartment, fed Pepperoni, slipped into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and then burrowed in her bedcovers-her normal routine, but she felt anything but normal. Her mind had refused to deviate from her encounter; she could still feel his lips burning the inside of her thighs. Kimber had replayed every moment, every kiss, every touch, every thrust, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She’d stuffed her now much loved My First Vibe between her legs and less than two minutes later experienced an effortless, instantaneous orgasm, remembering to keep from crying out so Taryn and Brad, likely sleeping next door, didn’t hear her. This cycle had repeated itself until the weak morning sun’s blush slipped through the cracks in the blinds. Her pajama pants had been at a tangle around her ankles, her fingers had gone numb from clutching the dying vibrator for so long, and all she’d been able to think about was how to get whatever the hell happened to her at the party to happen again.

It was still on her brain at work that night. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she hopped from one corner of the bar to the next, serving drinks with a wide, genuine smile she’d thought was impossible to muster while on the clock. She’d even hugged Alison in greeting when her coworker had arrived-twenty minutes late-for her shift.

“Someone must’ve gotten laid last night,” Alison had said, bewildered, having no idea how close to the truth she was with that expression.

But it had been more than getting laid. Despite her limited experience, Kimber knew that much.

She tried to guess what her lover looked like based solely on remembering the feel of him. Her overactive imagination led her to hope he resembled someone like Ryan Phillippe; her mystery man had had such sexy, tousled curls, and she’d never fooled around with a blond before. Not to mention, he seemed to have a mouth similar to the actor’s, if the way his lips had felt on hers was any indication.

The memory had her head in a lusty fog for the entirety of the day. It was a wonder that she managed to get anything done at all. She somehow managed to function using only half her brain; the other half was devoted to the memory of last night’s rendezvous. She couldn’t imagine what she could’ve gotten done if she weren’t constantly thinking of her mysterious stranger. The possibilities boggled the mind.

Jay slunk into the bar before his shift, interrupting Kimber privately reliving the evening for what had to be the thousandth time since it happened. He slid onto a stool and stretched his arms in front of him, staring at his hands like they were a Chinese math problem. “Hey,” he said after a few moments, his eyes flickering to her then away again. He looked like he’d suffered through a restless night.

Kimber chalked up his discomfort to how awkward things had been between them lately, but suddenly, their lack of seeing eye to eye seemed inconsequential. “Hello.” She captured his hands in hers, ignoring how he jolted at her touch, and sighed with happiness. “Have fun last night?”

“Um, yeah.” He stared at their hands. “It was okay.” Finally, his gaze lifted to hers. “Did you?”

“I did.” A smile twitched on her lips and she looked away, afraid she’d burst into peals of giddy, uncontrollable laughter. She cleared away a few empty glasses, humming to herself.

“Really?” Jay straightened in his seat. “What, uh… I mean, what happened?”

She dug her teeth into her lower lip. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You really don’t. You wouldn’t approve.”

He took a deep breath. “I promise I won’t be judgmental. Come on. You can tell me.”

It was then that Kimber realized how badly she needed to talk to someone about what had happened. Who better than her best friend in the world? She turned to face Alison, who was flirting for tips in her low-cut black top. “Al, I’m going to take my break early, okay?”

“Yep.” Alison waved her away, leaning over the counter toward the sixty-something-year-old man she was talking to and purring with interest to whatever he said.

Kimber clocked out and scurried around the bar to meet Jay, linking her arm around his and tugging him through the rows of slot machines until they were outside on the patio that faced the horse track. After glancing around to ensure they were alone, she turned to him with a grin. “Jay, last night was the most amazing night of my life.”

His mouth dropped open. “What happened?”

“I can’t tell you the details.” She looked away, dying to tell him in order to relive the moment via conversation. “It’d be rude.”

“It wouldn’t.” Jay grabbed her upper arm, forcing her to make eye contact. “Really. I want to know.”

“Well…” She swallowed hard, buying herself some time to put her chaotic, passionate thoughts in order.