Page 34 of Certified Pressure 4
“Ahh, fuck,” he whispered, pulling out quickly as his body tensed.
I looked down just in time to see his nut spilling from his dick. It was thick and the sight alone sent a pulse straight through me. It turned me on even more, watching him lose control right here in front of me.
And when he finally pulled back to look at me, there was guilt in his eyes, but there was something else too. It was the type of desire that doesn’t fade just because it’s wrong.
“Jayla…” he said low, using the name he thought was mine. His voice sounded unsure, like he didn’t even know what he wanted to say after that.
I forced a smile even though my chest felt tight. “You don’t gotta say it,” I told him quietly. “We both know.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still locked on me. There was something in that silence that felt too heavy. It was like we’d crossed a line we couldn’t uncross, and both of us knew it.
Lyrick finally exhaled, shaking his head a before grabbing a paper towel from the counter and wiping the floor. His face was still tense, but his eyes were soft. “You cooked a hell of a meal,” he said finally, like he was trying to bring the moment back to something normal.
I let out a weak laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Guess I did.”
But there was no going back to normal. The kitchen didn’t even feel the same anymore. My skin still tingled where his hands had been, and every time I looked at him, I saw the same conflict in his eyes that I felt in mine.
I turned back to the sink, running the water just to have something to do with my hands. The dishes didn’t need to be washed anymore, but it gave me an excuse not to look at him for a minute.
Lyrick didn’t move right away. I could feel him behind me, his presence still thick in the kitchen. When I finally looked back over my shoulder, he was watching me with that same lost look, the one that said he wasn’t sure if he regretted it or if he wanted more.
Neither of us said another word. He walked off toward his room, and I stayed where I was, staring at the sink like it could wash away what had just happened, but it couldn’t. Hell, nothing could.
When I finally turned the water off and pressed my hands flat against the counter, I felt that familiar sting of guilt creeping up my spine. I knew I had just done something unforgivable, but at the same time, I couldn’t shake the rush it gave me. I told myself it was the wine, the music, the moment, anything but what it really was.
The truth was, this wasn’t new for me. I’d always had a way of finding trouble, and of taking what wasn’t mine and convincing myself it was. Lyrick was no different. He just reminded me of everything I used to crave.
As much as I wanted to feel bad for Nooré, I couldn’t. She should’ve known better than to let a woman like me into her home.
When Nooré finally made it home, I was already out the shower and getting ready for bed. The smell of her perfume drifted down the hall before I even heard her laugh. That sound made my stomach twist. I froze where I was, halfway through rubbing lotion on my legs, listening to her move around the condo. Her voice carried softly through the walls, cheerful and warm like nothing in the world could be wrong. That woman had no idea what kind of wrong was living under her roof, and I truly felt awful about it.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe normal and act like my heart wasn’t racing. The guilt kept creeping in no matter how hard I tried to shove it down. I told myself I didn’t mean to have sex with Lyrick, and that it just happened, but that didn’t make it better. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lyrick’s face. I could still feel his hands on me, and still remember how my body reacted like it had been waiting for him all along. It was too much to think about, so I tried to push it away.
A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on my door, and my body went still.
“Jayla?” Nooré’s voice was gentle, almost cautious.
“Come in,” I called, pulling the blanket across my lap and pretending I was halfway asleep.
The door creaked open and she stepped inside, still wearing her work clothes. Her hair was up in a loose bun, her skin glowing from the heat outside. She looked tired but beautiful.
“Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked, smiling softly.
“Nah, I was just about to call it a night,” I said, forcing a smile back. “How was work?”
She sighed, kicking off her heels and rubbing her temples. “Long. It’s been crazy lately. I swear, if one more client asks for last minute changes, I’m quitting.” She laughed lightly and looked around the room. “You good though? You need anything?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine, for real. I ate earlier. Everything’s good.”
We talked for a few minutes about nothing important. She told me about a client who showed up late to a meeting, I told her I spent the afternoon cleaning up and making sure her plants didn’t die. She laughed, saying she appreciated me looking out. The more she talked, the worse I felt. It wasn’t just the words, it was how she looked at me, like she actually cared.
When her eyes softened and she said, “You sure you’re okay, Jayla?” I almost lost it.
“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing my lips into a smile. “I’m straight. Just tired.”
She nodded but didn’t move right away. “You’ve been through a lot,” she said. “Losing your husband like that, I can’t even imagine, but you’re doing good. I just want you to know you’re safe here, okay? Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask. And if something is bothering you, I’m here to talk.”
Her kindness hit me harder than it should have. For a second, I couldn’t even look at her. All I could think about was how she was standing here telling me I was safe while the man she loved had his hands all over me not even a few hours ago.
