the cushions, I began working on the button and zipper of his jeans while he tugged at my panties. When I got his pants undone, I went straight for his cock, but he was testing the waters, so to speak, running his finger along my slit. As he rubbed up against my clit, I drew in a quick breath of air.
I was ready as well.
“Damn, Rascal.”
Had I not been so desperate, I might have laughed. I’d loved the nickname he’d given me long ago when I’d initiated our first kiss—not quite true, because he’d been teasing me all night long while tutoring me in algebra, but he’d let me make the first move. Maybe that was so I’d feel in control, but I’d never felt that way with this man, not one bit.
Soon, he guided himself in. Ah. But the temporary relief was overtaken by more need, and I tilted my pelvis for maximum pleasure, urging him to hit the spots that would take me to the top. During those few minutes of frantic copulation, the rest of my world was gone—my worries, my fears, all the horrible things I said to myself in my head day in, day out.
Even the emotions growing in my heart for this man on a minute-by-minute basis were floating in the background as his cock drove me to pleasure.
And we were so fucking loud, I wondered if his whole apartment building had heard us.
Afterward, I let out a long sigh, my body warm but satiated, and I started drifting off. “C’mon, Rascal.” He took me by the hand, leading me to his bedroom. As soon as I rested my head on the pillow, my eyes closed, and I felt him pull the covers up and over my shoulders. Forcing my eyes open again for just a second, I watched him pull off a boot and start to sit on the edge of the bed, but I finally gave in to deep, dark, dreamless sleep.
* * *
When I woke up, it was still dark in his bedroom, but I needed to pee. Walking through the shadows to the doorway of his bedroom, I had no idea the layout of the place, so once I was in the tiny hallway, I kept my hands on the wall, feeling for another door. Soon, my fingers brushed along the inner wall of another room until my hand touched a light switch.
That was the good thing about apartments: it was easy to find the bathroom.
After doing my business, I dabbed a little cool water on my flushed cheeks. I was still drunk and all I had on was my bra.
But I needed a cigarette.
Keeping the bathroom light so I could see better, I ventured into the living room and found my purse by the door. I knew I really should go outside to smoke, but the pressure I felt in my head told me to get my ass back in bed.
Nicotine first.
Making my way into the kitchen, I turned the light on and found the trashcan. If there was a tin can in there, it could serve as a decent makeshift ashtray, and I could open the window to blow smoke outside. Not the best plan, but it would do. I found a beer bottle and decided that would work as I lit a cigarette.
Oh, that first drag was always the sweetest, flipping some strange switch in my brain, giving me that jolt of satisfaction. And then my mind cleared and I began examining how exactly I’d arrived here.
Not at Justin’s apartment. In my heart.
When exactly had I started falling in love with that man? And why the fuck had I allowed it to happen in the first place? Justin was not a one-woman guy and had never pretended to be. Not once had he ever told me he was anything other than a friend.
With all the shit going on in my life, tonight had to be the last time. Not only because of Sarah, but also because my heart was going to crack if I didn’t stop right now. Breaking away at this moment would lead to the least amount of heartache.
So, in the morning, I’d say my last goodbye. After tonight, I was going to go back to being Randi Miller, single mother, assistant manager, and promising student.
After finishing the cigarette, I poured a little water in the bottle to extinguish the butt and then closed the window and shut off the light. I decided to shower,