Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
ZOE
I’m sated and sleepy. It’s so nice to be in Connor’s arms again after the best sex I’ve had since we were last together. Everything feels perfect until he starts to interrogate me, albeit gently, about what I’ve figured out over the past five weeks. The truth is, so far, nothing.
I left C because I felt like he didn’t love me enough to propose, and because constantly thinking about that made me emotional in ways I didn’t like.
We were fighting more, and I had a harder and harder time controlling myself during those arguments. My frustration kept boiling over, and Connor is not someone who allows people to yell at him. He would warn me to calm down, but, in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t. So he would take charge.
The emotional release of a punishment actually made me feel better.
And the way he handled me afterward made me feel loved.
But the next time I had to hear about a friend’s wedding dress or wedding plans, all the pain and frustration would bubble back up.
I would melt down outwardly, or inwardly, or both.
I was in the midst of trying to become a badass businesswoman in New York, and the emotional turmoil at home wasn’t helping me gain a successful mindset. Since I couldn’t overcome my feelings while living with Connor, I moved out.
But after I left him, loneliness and doubt plagued my mind, too. When I tried dating, it was even worse. No one could hold a candle to the man I’d given up. None of them ever made me feel as special as he does.
I tell myself I need to be patient. If I give it time, I’ll get over my heartbreak and eventually find someone who’s as right for me as he was.
I’m afraid though that the way I miss being tossed over his lap and his shoulder and into his bed will never go away. The routine I had while living with him is something I miss every day. Cooking, dancing, talking to him about my plans, making love with him… I miss all of it.
“It’s been a month, Z. I’m not asking you to tell me the meaning of life, just if you’re happier now than you were before.”
Tears sting my eyes. I’m not equipped to handle this conversation right now. “That’s a tough question when I’m not…”
“Not what?”
Not over you, I think. “It’s complicated, C.”
“Sounds like you need help figuring things out.”
I chew on my bottom lip. There’s no doubt that if I open up to Connor, he’ll say things that will make me want him more. But what feels good in the moment isn’t always what’s good in the long run.
“Do we really have to talk right now?” I whisper. “Isn’t there anything you’d rather do?” As I kiss him, I press my chest against his.
He cups the back of my head and kisses me so deeply it makes my head buzz more than the gin. I moan against his mouth. I love the way we kiss. Love it.
After a few minutes of kissing and touching, I can feel that he’s hard again. Good because I want to be with him again, too.
“Do you have almond oil in your overnight bag?” he asks.
“I have coconut oil for my skin.”
I know what he wants. When I lived at C’s place, I had three supplies of natural oils. Some for moisturizing my skin after an exfoliating scrub, some for cooking with, and some for us to use during sex.
“Get it for me.”
“C, here and now?” I whisper hesitantly.
Booty sex is not a special occasion thing with him. He’s an ass man in every sense of the word.
“In the shower,” he says, his fingers pinching my nipple slowly.
The sensation sends shivers through my body, like everything he does. I lick my lips, but he pulls his hand away and sets it on his chest, waiting for me to obey.
“Go on, Z.” It’s a command, and my body finds that impossible to resist.
I scramble from the bed and dig through my bag.
C rises and heads into the bathroom. By the time I join him, he’s already in the shower with warm water raining down on him. He looks so good. Male dancers have beautiful bodies, but C’s thick, bulging muscles are what really does it for me.
“C,” I say, stepping gingerly into the shower and handing him the small bottle.
“Yeah?” he asks, taking it from me.
“I haven’t done this since us…” I bite my lip to emphasize my point. “Be gentle, okay?”
“No toys?”
I shake my head.
“Why not?”
I shrug.
“Answer, Z.”
Heat rushes to my face. “I like it with you. Otherwise…not sure. Alone in bed? No.”
“Turn around.”
My body jerks, feeling anxious and excited at the same time.
When we were first together, I had a love-hate relationship with this kind of sex.
Then the more he used me this way, the more into it I became.
C always brings me to the brink of orgasm before turning aggressive, so coming is inevitable and always leads to a rush of so many dark, sexy feelings.
His fingers are cold as they anoint my little asshole and stretch it. I brace myself against the tile, taking slow shaky breaths. It’s already intense when he pushes two fingers in.
“Oh God,” I murmur under my breath.
He’s patient and slow at first, warming me up until I start to push back toward him. His other arm slides around me, and his fingers rub my clit. The two sensations immediately find each and catch fire inside me.
My nipples pucker, and the ache in my core burns. I draw in a short breath and exhale it as a gasp. It’s easy to become breathless during sex with him.
“Oh, God.” I bite my lip and arch my back.
“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he husks in my ear.
“Yes,” I groan.
When his cock replaces his fingers, my knees almost buckle. It hurts and feels good at the same time.
“Hold onto the towel bar, and keep arching your back.” His breath turns ragged. “Mmm. You feel so good wrapped around me. Just tight enough.” He adds more coconut oil to us, right where my ring is stretched taut and aching.
I hold on as his clever fingers work their magic on my clit. My nervous resistance melts as my hands cling to the hard plastic rung above my head.
His hips press against my ass, his cock driving deep, making my belly vibrate from within. He fucks me slow and deep, all the while keeping me suspended in a state of arousal so sharp it steals my breath.
It doesn’t take long for an orgasm to consume me. I come very hard, my legs shaking from the force of it. He grabs my hips to support me and keep me pinned against him. My hands drop to the tile wall, and I brace myself as he fucks me harder.
My orgasm lingers, bringing on exquisite aftershocks until it finally fades.
The intensity of his big cock in my smallest hole sharpens.
My whimpers turn pained, and his fingers tighten on my hipbones.
There’s no escape, but I can feel him driving toward orgasm.
He’s going to make himself come right away.
I pant and force myself not to struggle against what’s happening to me.
When he does come, it feels good, and dirty, and like I’m as much his as I’ve ever been. I shudder.
His arms wrap around me, one hand over the front of my throat, the other across my ribs. His hand grips my breast. He pulls me back against his body, his cock still buried inside me.
He kisses the side of my neck and whispers, “I haven’t done this since us either. Seems like we both remember how to do it right, though.”
His cock withdraws slowly as he turns my head toward my shoulder and kisses me on the mouth. Then he turns my body to face him and pulls me against him, holding me tight.
I cling to him, loving the feel of being in his strong arms.
CONNOR
I wake alone in the bed. The bathroom door stands open, showing me it’s empty.
“Come on, Z,” I murmur with a sigh. I wanted more than a few hours with her. I wanted the whole day and another night or two at least.
My phone’s blinking on the nightstand. I pick it up and find a text she sent an hour ago.
Zoe: sorry to sneak out, felt awkward about the breakfast sitch. not sure…about anything really. except that last night was AMAZING. i know we probably shouldn’t have, but i missed you so much. xo
I shake my head and set the phone back on the nightstand.
Goddamnit. It was a great night, but now that she’s gone it feels like a tease. Only two rounds before we crashed. Barely any conversation. It’s been such a long time. I expected a hell of a lot more.
I wish I knew what the hell’s going on in her head.
Between the first and second time we had sex, I raised the subject of the breakup and she still couldn’t—or wouldn’t—put into words exactly what happened.
I should’ve pressed her more, but I thought we’d have time.
If she hadn’t taken off, I would’ve taken her back to my place.
It was a mistake to not take her there last night so I could control how long she’d stay.
Next time, I won’t make the mistake of sleeping with her in someone else’s house.