Page 55 of Hung Up
And I’m the idiot lapping it up like a starved dog.
A starved dog who wants people to see that she lets me claim her in this way. That she wants me.
I pull out of her fully and stand, her feet falling back to the floor as she gasps in frustration. Grabbing her throat, I pull her up so she’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, my lips hovering over hers. “Come with me, Sweetheart.”
She stands in front of me, slightly wobbly on her legs, so I grab her arm and walk her over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out at the city. Quickly swinging her around, I press her front to the glass and she hisses at the contact, the window cold against her bare skin. Her breath begins to fog the glass as I rest my face in the crook of her neck, kissing her neck. My hands find their way to her hips and pull her ass against my dick before I rest a hand between her shoulder blades and have her bend down and lean against the glass.
“I want everyone to watch as you come undone for me,” I whisper into her ear, slipping the blindfold off so she can see what I see. “I want everyone down there to see how well you take my cock. How you beg and how desperate you are for my dick to fill your perfect cunt.”
I don’t give her a chance to get ready. With my tip already against her entrance, I thrust forward, and she stumbles forward slightly. I keep one hand between her shoulder blades and the other grabs the bandana keeping her wrists tied together. I’m slamming into her as her loud moans fill the room, myfrustration over not having her completely driving the desperate, hard thrust of my hips.
The thought of someone else having her like this when the season is over sends me into a frenzy. A flood of anger rushes through me—anger at myself, anger with her, anger at the world for giving me such a perfect woman but keeping her just out of arm's reach. What kind of cruel joke is the universe playing on me? What did I do in my past life to deserve this?
I slide the hand between her shoulder blades up into her hair, wrapping it around my wrist and giving it a tug. She arches up so her back is now against my front and I force her to take a couple of steps forward so she’s flush against the glass. The reflection of us in the glass has me slowing down for a moment.
The way we look, both of us hot and flush and almost satisfied, overwhelms my senses. It kills me how good we look together.
“I’m going to come,” she pants, her breath fogging the glass as her eyes fall shut, her breathing coming out heavier as her legs begin to quiver.
“Then come for me, baby,” I groan into her ear, taking her lobe between my teeth as I remove my hand from her hair and slip it around her throat, giving it a squeeze. “Show them how beautiful you are when you come all over my cock.”
Her knees give out as her orgasm rips through her, and I quickly loop my arm around her waist to keep her upright. Our sweat mingles together as I continue to pound into her, drawing out her orgasm as I chase mine. My release comes a few seconds later, a grunt leaving my lips as I spill into her. I blink a few times, spots dotting my vision as I come down from my orgasm high.
Slowly pulling out of her, I make sure to keep an arm around her as she regains her balance. With the bandana now off her wrists, she turns around to look at me. There’s a satiated smileon her lips, that beautiful post-orgasm glaze in her beautiful blue eyes. It’s a sight I wish I could capture in my memory forever.
I wordlessly turn and start collecting my clothes off the floor, getting redressed before I can say something I regret. That disappointment and frustration are back rearing their ugly heads. I know I said I’d take her in whatever shape or form I could have her, but it’s killing me to know that she’s just out of reach. Just as I finish putting on my pants and head for the door, I hear Faith cough softly behind me.
“Where are you going?”
It’s an innocent question, but one that has my anger growing uncontrollably. She’s the one who wanted this. She said just sex, and I’m pretty sure staying the night is part of the lines blurring thing she was talking about earlier. She wanted boundaries, so I’ll give her boundaries.
I don’t bother turning around when I say, “I’ll crash with Kai tonight. This is what you wanted, right? I’m just honoring your wishes.”
And I’m out the door before she can ask me to stay.
20JESSE
ALBUQUERQUE
more scrambled than eggs
Sweetheart
Thank you for understanding. You’re a good friend.
Friend.That word has haunted me since she sent that text four days ago. I haven’t been able to stop looking at it, hoping that if I stare at the words long enough, they’ll eventually change. But much to my distaste, they have stayed the same. I debated about responding for hours, pacing a hole in the floor of my living room as I tried to come up with a response. Unfortunately, nothing good came to mind, and then the acceptable length of time to respond to a text had passed me by. I had thought about reacting to it, giving it a heart or something, just so she didn’t feel like I was ignoring her, but that truthfully seemed worse than not responding.
So now here I am, pacing a hole into the floor at the arena instead, waiting for her to show up so we can talk.
But truthfully, I almost don’t know if I want to. I know I made the decision to go to her room—to put my own heart up on the chopping block because I’m that desperate for any piece of her. Yet I can’t help but feel like it was a mistake. I’ve been on this never-ending loop of hating myself for letting her do this to me, then being grateful that I still get to have her in an intimate way that no one else does. Every time I think about walking away or how I’ll never truly have her in the way I want, I find myself sick to my stomach.
My brain has been more scrambled than eggs. No decision seems to be the right one. No matter what I do I’ll end up with the shit end of the stick. I either stop our arrangement to protect my own heart, only to have to see her at every competition for the next seven weeks, or we continue to sleep together, and then I never see her again after Arlington.
No matter what, there’s only one finite ending to this.
Me with my heart broken.
And the icing on the already fucked up cake—as if I needed anything more weighing on me—I pulled Goliath for tonight: the meanest, toughest, and hardest bull in the lineup. Because why wouldn’t the universe throw me the impossible when I’m in the worst headspace possible?
