heaving. “I need to fuck you.”
“How romantic,” she jests, but I’m not in the mood. Not tonight.
I grab her hand, bringing her to her feet, then pull her toward the couch, retrieving a condom from my wallet at the same time. Sitting, I roll it on, not even removing my pants. This is cheap and dirty, but I don’t care. When I tug her down, she straddles me. I tease her with my erection, trying to draw things out before I unravel. And right now, that’s what I need. To feel something other than the numbing ache that’s consumed me for too long.
Skylar loops her arms around my neck, bringing herself toward me. Her chest in my face, I clamp my mouth over a nipple. She throws her head back and moans. I wonder if she enjoys it or is pretending, as I so often do with her. As I trail my mouth along her skin, I grip her thighs, finding her center and pushing her down on me. I go slow, stretching her to take my size. Then I meet her eyes.
“Ride me.”
With those two words, she moves against me, circling. Any other time, that would be fine, but all I can think of tonight is if Wes makes Brooklyn fuck him like this. If she’s sitting on his dick right now, moaning, screaming his name. In all the months they’ve been together, I’ve tried not to think about that. Now I can’t stop. It makes me want to screw Skylar even harder.
Fire in my veins, I tighten my grip on her hips, forcing her up and down on me faster, more punishing, more brutal. Her moans fill the room, interspersed with my occasional grunts. My lips are tight, my jaw clenched, every muscle in my body ready to snap with the building tension. I do everything in my power to think of Skylar, not Brooklyn, but it’s impossible. Even when I come hard and fast as Skylar shatters around me, I have to bite back my desire to scream out Brooklyn’s name, waves of ecstasy washing over me.
Twenty-four hours ago, I was content with the way my life was going. I have two little girls who mean the world to me. I have a great job where I can finally pursue my passion again. I have the perfect arrangement with a beautiful young woman who’s happy with what I’m willing to offer. Now it all seems lacking, superficial.
In less than a day, my entire world’s been tilted on its axis. All I hear is Brooklyn’s voice.
“Wes asked me to marry him. I said yes.”
It brings me back to the day I left for college, Brooklyn’s father warning me to stay away from her. His words crushed my soul that morning, just like Brooklyn’s did today.
The warmth of Skylar’s lips on my neck brings me back to the present. I look at her. “Stay?” she asks in a languid voice.
I shake my head, lifting her off me. “Rule number one,” I remind her as I stand, removing the condom and throwing it into a nearby trash can. “No spending the night.” I zip my pants.
“Of course. Rule number one,” she hisses, stalking across the room. She grabs her kimono from where it fell to the floor and shoves her arms into it, violently tying the sash. “God forbid you stay the night for once.”
“Let’s not fool ourselves, Skylar.” I sound like an asshole, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing. “We entered this arrangement knowing what we both wanted. I don’t do romance.”
“You can at least stay the night once in a while.” She glares at me, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “You come here, make me suck you off, fuck me harder than you ever have, then leave? Makes me feel like a whore.”
I still, cursing under my breath. Even if I’m not interested in a committed relationship, I hate for her to think of herself that way, hate that I make her think of herself that way.
Softening my expression, I approach her and rub my hands down her biceps, soothing her as I kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry. You’re anything but. You’re a strong, independent woman who knows what she likes. I appreciate your offer to stay the night. Maybe another time. It’s been a difficult day.”
“Then let me help you forget.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders, rubbing her body against mine.
“I’d love to, Sky, but—”
“Let me guess,” she interrupts, stepping away.