Page 4 of Piece By Piece

Mattheo shoots me a quick smile and then goes back at it, bringing his lips to mine as he fucks me into the mattress. When the person at my door knocks again, we don’t react at all. Some small part of my mind is wondering who the hell it could be, though.

“Aliena?” One word through the wooden door that should hardly meet my ears. And yet, that voice rings throughloud and clear.

Mattheo recognizes the voice of his best friend too and his eyes open once again, meeting mine even though he doesn’t stop moving. There’s a challenge in his gaze, something knowing and wicked. It’s what draws that first true moan from me.

After that, the knocking lets up for a second only to return twice as harshly. “Aliena? I know you’re in there, the door is locked and only you have the key. Open up!” Sebastian demands, irritation clear in his voice.

Mattheo smiles cockily and whispers in my ear. “Yes, Aliena, open the door,” he taunts. I clench around him, moaning even louder now as if my body just couldn’t control it.

Sebastian hears. He bangs more. “Is someone in there with you? I swear to god, Aliena, open the fucking door! This ismyapartment!” he rages outside. And, god, I’m becoming unhinged, moaning again.

What is wrong with me? Why has the room become ten times hotter since his voice pierced the air? I shouldn’t care for his voice and I sure as hell shouldn’t be hearing it when he knows I’m in here with someone. We aren’t together. Jesus Christ, we don’t even get along and never have in all the months I’ve been forced to get to know him. Not once after our first meeting.

“Aliena!” his voice booms. “Open the fucking door! I won’t leave until you fucking do!” he announces. I bite my lip to stifle another sound. There’s no need for me to urge him on.

Mattheo’s finger drags my bottom lip from between my teeth. Then, he turns his head to the door and yells, “You better not! Keep shouting, dude. She’s loving it!” Then he winks at me.

A shockwave of heat and shame washes over me and I can feel my inner walls pulse around Mattheo’s cock. This time, he groans. “That’s it, Amo,” he tells me.

“Mattheo?” Sebastian’s disbelieving voice comes from outside the room. The banging resumes. “What the fuck! Open the fucking door, you sad excuse of a friend!”

“In a sec. We’re getting her there,” he shouts back, thrusting deeper and faster now. Holy shit, I can hear Sebastian curse outside but gradually, his voice begins to fade to background noise as the sensations become too much for my body.

Pleasure washes over me in waves and I close my eyes, feeling every muscle tense. Stars dot my vision and I distantly feel my mouth open. If I cried out, the sound didn’t register to my own ears.

I come back to myself with heaving breaths and numb limbs. Above me, Mattheo is catching his breath as well, so I guess he tipped over the edge with me. He slowly pulls out of me with one last peck and discards the condom. The banging on my door hasn’t stopped.

I join Mattheo as he puts on his clothes. “Want me to give you a ride home or are you staying here?” he asks me, acting as if his best friend wasn’t on the verge of knocking the door down.

I mirror him, ignoring the sound. “I’m not staying here.” Then, seeing as we both have our clothes back in place, I step up to the door with a deep breath. It’s a shame I have to open it now and face the menace on the other side when I’m in such a good mood. Mattheo gives me an encouraging nod and I unlock the door to reveal the owner of the house.

Sebastian William Henderson, son of William Henderson, dean of Hartford University. One of the most influential and richest students among all the other snobs atthe university as well as the most popular, thanks to the parties he regularly throws.

In my opinion, he’s also the most infuriating, although I do only know a handful.

I look at his flushed, angry face and his heaving chest and try to see what the others do. A broad, 6-foot-1 frame of pure muscle, courtesy of the private gym in the apartment where he takes his anger out, dark hair, shorter on the sides and longer on top, and dark, menacing eyes currently burning into me. He looks good, yeah. That was never in question.

As was the weird chemistry between us, which he seemed fine with on our first meeting, not so much on any of the others,though.

Chapter 2

Aliena

Last July

“Look who was sent fresh flowers again!” I say

enthusiastically as I step into the room of my favorite resident, 85-year-old Rosie Henderson.

The old lady perks up in her chair and beams at me, stretching out her hands for the lovely bouquet I bought. I hand it to her, and she takes a deep whiff and sighs. “My lovely son. You know, he’s so busy he can never visit but he never fails to send me these once a month,” she tells me like she does every month.

Maybe it’s wrong of me to lie to her, but in the five years of working here, I learned to take some liberties when it comes to bringing these lovely seniors some joy. After a year of Rosie’s arrival, during which I always had to disappoint her whenever she asked if her son called about a visit, I started buying her flowers and told her they were from him. That was six months ago, and her mental presence has been looking up ever since.

“That’s very nice of him. They’re beautiful,” I agree with her as I move on to tidy her room. It’s very spacious,only the best for the residents since the price sure demands as much.

When I was told what the yearly fee for a residency at Bloomfield Living Care costs, I nearly choked on my tongue. Let’s just say, sixteen-year-old me never heard of such expenses.

The room’s equipped with a desk usually decorated with my flowers, a comfortable bed with some bedside drawers, a tv, and a closet. Adjoint with the bedroom is a small bathroom. In my opinion, the best part of this room is the window looking out into the big yard of the nursing home. A few people are out, playing cards or checkers at one of the tables in the shade to enjoy the July weather. I open the window for Rosie.

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