I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make it worse. I just remember how we tried to celebrate their life.”
“We had sex.”
“Eventually we did, yes. But we did more than that.”
He scoffed. “I remember wanting to not feel the tremendous strain of failing and losing a life, and using sex to escape it.” He turned his head, putting his face within inches of mine. “You going to help me escape it now?”
“Is that what you want?” In my brain, danger, danger screamed. Sex wasn’t the answer to Nick’s pain.
“To not feel like shit? Yes. To have sex? With you? Yes.”
I pressed my hand to his cheek. “That won’t fix—”
“I know that,” he snapped.
I removed my hand, but he took it and laid on his groin. “But what I’d do to fucking get lost in sensation instead of emotion for just a second.”
I want to say it was instinct that had my hand closing around his cock through his jeans. He sighed, like I’d given him a balm to soothe his tortured soul. What harm would it be to give him a respite from the pain and guilt?
I leaned toward him, pressing my lips against his. It had been four years since I’d kissed him. The feel of his mouth, firm and smooth, brought back a torrent of emotions and sensations.
He groaned. “Don’t tease me, Mia.”
“No teasing, Nick.” I straddled his thighs. “Clear your mind. Just feel.” I kissed him again, running my hands down his chest, which was harder and more defined than four years ago.
His hands slid under my blouse, and his kiss grew more insistent. “Make me forget, Mia. Make me fucking forget.”
The last time I had sex with Nick Foster was four years ago. It was slow, sweet … perfect. I’d been hopelessly in love with him.
Just after I had a delicious orgasm, my brother, Eli showed up by surprise. He wasn’t happy to discover my relationship with his best friend. No, he was pissed, feeling betrayed by Nick. That altercation caused the initial crack in Nick and my relationship. It didn’t take long for it to grow and tear us apart. The love that I thought would last forever was gone within forty-eight hours. Well, maybe not the love, but the relationship was over.
Now here I was, letting him touch me again. We weren’t in love now. Sure, the attraction was still strong, but that wasn’t love. He was in pain and wanted to get lost in someone. Would any woman have done? If that was true, I should have stopped. While I knew this wasn’t the beginning of a relationship, I didn’t want to be just a convenient fuck. And yet as he pulled my blouse off and dragged his tongue over the swells of my breasts, I knew I wouldn’t stop him. The truth was, I wanted this too.
Four years ago, Nick was vocal during sex, but tonight he was quiet. His hands kneaded my breasts, his tongue taking turns lapping at one nipple and then the other. Soon, we were both naked on his couch and his thick cock was sheathed in a condom. The room was dark, but I could see him clearly. I could see the guilt and pain on his face even though that was what this encounter was supposed to help him escape.
I wondered again at the wisdom of having sex. Nick’s heart and mind needed soothing, but sex probably wasn’t the right balm. It had worked some four years ago because it wasn’t just sex. It was me loving him.
“Fuck me, Mia.” His words came out soft, almost like it was a thought, and not something he meant to say out loud. Once again, I found myself powerless to stop.
I’d tried to move on from Nick when we broke up four years ago. I was sure I was over him. But I couldn’t deny that I’d never met anyone who made me yearn the way he did. It was like my entire body remembered him and had come alive in anticipation of his touch.
I rubbed my pussy over his dick. I looked at him, but his head was down, resting against my breasts. His hands were on my hips as I lowered down over him.
He was thick and hot, and I realized my memory of him was lacking. He filled every bit inside me and it was spectacular. I gripped his shoulders, and began to move, up and down, in a slow long ride.
He groaned, his fingers kneading my hips. It seemed impossible, but he thickened inside me, the friction increasing with each delicious slide until I was bouncing on him, driving towards my orgasm. I teetered on the edge; release was just a thrust away. I was sure he was close too.
Then his hands squeezed, and held me as I dropped over him, his dick filling me. He kept me from moving, his breathing was harsh as he dropped his head between my breasts again.
I started to say something, but his grip loosened. I rocked and he groaned. Then I started to ride again. Quickly I was back up, riding him hard. My pussy throbbed as each slide of him pushed me closer to the edge again.
“Oh God, Nick.” My fingers dug into his shoulders as my climax rushed toward me. I sank down, knowing next time, pleasure would fill my body. His hands squeezed again, holding me in place, preventing me from taking that one last ride. I groaned in frustration. “Nick.”
His thumb slid between my thighs and rubbed over my clit. I tried to rise, but he held me there, so all I could do was rock over him.
My breath was harsh as I sought my pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I chanted, worried he’d tease me again. Fortunately, he didn’t stop. I tilted my pelvis, his dick hitting that one exquisite spot just as his thumb stroked over my clit. My orgasm roared through me reminding me how
