run the Boston Half Marathon while Landon and the girls cheer me on. Later that afternoon, I meet Alec in the Public Garden while my family thinks I’m at the spa getting a massage. It’s one of our many stolen moments. We sit under a cherry tree, amongst the budding tulips, while he fingers me beneath the jacket draped over my lap.
I’m head-over-heels attached to Alec, but when spring burns into summer, I’m utterly absorbed in him. I love yous are anemic because we are beyond love—we’re fanatically dependent on each other for survival.
It’s been nearly a year since Alec and I started texting, and not once has predictability crept in. This man lives by no rules and has swept me away, birthing inside of me a constant pang of wanderlust. I dream about the day I can freely hold his hand while he leads me through life. To get to that point, I have to battle my way through fear and pride, a war I’m much too weak for—so I continue to dream.
“It’s only twelve days.”
My gut pits with dread and loneliness. Twelve days feels like a prison sentence. “I’m going to miss you.”
“You’ll be having too good of a time to miss me,” Alec says, his cock still inside me as I straddle him on the couch.
Tomorrow, I leave for Australia with Landon for a book signing, but today, I snuck away so I could have Alec one last time before I left.
“I’d rather be going with you,” I tell him.
The last thing I want to be doing is traveling with my husband for two weeks with no escape—with no Alec. My cheap disposable phone I still use to talk and text with him will be of no use to me while I’m gone, and I’m worried about leaving him cold-turkey.
He palms my breasts as I remain on his lap, his cum slowly seeping out of me between our melded bodies. “Tell me what it’s like when he’s fucking you.”
“Miserable,” I respond while he squeezes me in his hands. “He feels nothing like you. I hardly ever orgasm, but when I do, it’s you who owns it because it’s the thought of you that drives me to it.” The words hurt to admit because I deeply care for Landon, but he no longer has my heart. I’ve given it over to Alec.
“Grab my shoulders.” When I do, he holds me as he slides off the couch and onto the floor. He picks his shirt up, which is lying next to us, and instructs me to stand over him. He leans against the couch with his head tilted back onto the cushion as he looks up at my pussy. Using the shirt, he wipes me clean of his cum before tossing it aside. “Sit on my face.”
My stomach flutters in excitement. When I settle my knees onto the couch on either side of his head, he wraps his hands around my thighs and lowers me down to him. His mouth opens, taking my delicate flesh against his soft tongue. I grip the back of the sofa to steady myself. My body rocks back and forth as he teases my clit with feather-like sweeps.
He moves slowly—blissfully torturing me with his light touches. With my hips in his hands, he forbids my greed, holding me in place when I want to grind down on him. His tongue slides along my slick flesh, dipping only the tip of it inside me, causing my walls to clench and spasm. But he deprives me of the penetration my body is begging for, screaming for, practically crying for.
His beautiful face is buried between my folds, and I manage to create a moment of friction when he moves his hands from my hips to my ass, allowing me to rub my clit along the bridge of his nose. Tilting his head slightly, he captures the bundle of nerves with his mouth, sucking on me hard while he laughs at my eagerness. His lips vibrate against me when he does this, and my body quivers in response.
“Alec, fuck,” I moan, my voice lacerated between ravishment and deprivation.
I need more.
I reach between my legs with one hand, grab a handful of his hair, and pull his head up into me. He squeezes my ass, spreading my cheeks apart. Vision blurs when he swipes one of his fingers between my wet pussy and his tongue and then drags it to my back hole. He circles his finger around my