Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
SARAH
I can’t believe it’s really her. In all honesty, I thought I’d never see her again, even though she still occasionally makes an appearance in my daydreams.
“Sarah,” she breathes. “Wow. It’s been, what, over twenty years now?”
Jesus, that makes me feel old. “Yeah, I guess it would be that long now. Feels like forever ago.” But at the same time, it feels like just yesterday. So many memories are flooding back as I look into her eyes.
“Wait, you two already know each other?” Quentin’s eyes narrow as he looks between us.
“We were friends in college,” Kat offers in explanation.
I nod in agreement, even though that’s a massive understatement. We weren’t just friends. We were best friends. We were lovers. We were inseparable. The nostalgia is hitting me in full-force, making it hard to breathe.
“Well, what a coincidence!” Quentin clasps his hands together as Kat and I stare at each other in disbelief. His gaze lands on me, as I’m unusually silent. “Are you alright?”
I tear my gaze away from Kat to look at him and put on a smile that I hope is convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just surprised.” It’s not a lie, but I don’t mention that my fondest memories of her involve her sultry voice murmuring sensual words in my ear and her lips brushing against my skin.
Our time together was short but powerful. Unforgettable. A flame that burned bright but was snuffed out too fast.
My mind drifts back to those hazy days in college. Late nights studying turned into early mornings talking, laughing, and sometimes more. Kat had been a whirlwind in my life, a force of nature that had swept me off my feet. Our connection had been electric. Kat, with her wild spirit and spontaneity, had shown me a side of myself I hadn't known existed. She changed me for the better.
But when Kat had asked me for more in our final semester of college, I’d panicked. I had known our fun couldn't last forever, but a relationship felt so real . I had cared for her, of course—probably more than I had ever cared about anyone up until that point—but things were so easy between us when everything was undefined. Defining things between us meant defining myself , and I was too afraid to commit.
Now, here she is, standing in front of me, her eyes just as piercing, her smile just as captivating. And suddenly, I'm nineteen again, full of exhilaration and uncertainty.
I shake off the shock, trying to focus on the present. “So, what have you been up to all these years?” I ask, managing to keep my voice steady despite the chaos in my mind.
Kat's gaze is intense, like she doesn’t believe I’m really here. “I’ve been doing travel photography for the most part,” she says. “I’ve seen some incredible places, met some amazing people. But I finally felt like it was time to settle down in one place, so here I am, back home.”
“That's incredible,” I say, and I mean it. I've always admired Kat's free spirit, her courage to go out and explore the world. She’s always been fearless, which is something I’ve secretly envied as someone who tends to play it safe. “I’ve been here all along, teaching. Quentin and I got married and had two kids. The youngest left for college last week.”
She gives me a wistful smile. “That's wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
Quentin watches our exchange with a curious expression. “Wow, it’s a small world.”
"It really is," Kat agrees, but her eyes never leave mine.
The air between us is heavy with the weight of our past. So many unspoken “what ifs” linger there.
Quentin seems to sense the shift in the atmosphere. He clears his throat and says, “Well, I think this calls for a celebration. Let me get us another round of drinks.” He flags down the bartender and orders for us, giving me and Kat a moment to ourselves.
Kat leans in slightly and lowers her voice. “I missed you.” She covers my hand with her own, and her touch sparks against my skin.
I shouldn't still feel this way about her.
“I missed you too,” I whisper. Things between us had ended so abruptly. She had wanted more, and I was too afraid. My stupid, young mind had worried about the challenges that would come with dating a woman and moving away from home, and I had let my fear rule me. A part of me will always regret that, even though at the same time I could never regret the life I’ve built with Quentin.
“But I have to say,” Kat continues, her smile softening as she looks at Quentin, “you’ve done well for yourself. He’s quite the charmer.”
I laugh, grateful for the shift in topic. “He is, isn’t he? He’s been an amazing partner.” I glance at him, and he winks at me as he turns and hands us our drinks.
“So, Kat,” Quentin says, “since you and Sarah were such good friends, you must have some great stories. I want to hear all about her college days.”
Kat chuckles. “Oh, I have plenty of stories. But I have to warn you, they might paint a different picture of the Sarah you know now.”
“Now I’m really interested.”
My cheeks heat as my head fills with all the wild stories Kat could tell him. This could be dangerous. “Don’t believe everything she says. I was young and still figuring things out.”
“We all were,” Kat replies with a mischievous glance in my direction. “But for someone who was so much of a rule follower, you could be swayed into adventures pretty easily. Remember that time we snuck into a wedding reception in the fancy building right off campus?”
I groan and cover my face with my hand. “Oh my god, I haven’t thought about that in years.”
“I was so sure we were going to get caught. But it was worth it for the drinks and dessert. And the dancing, of course,” she adds, flashing me a flirty smile. How could I forget the way she had whisked me away on that dance floor?
“Wait, you two crashed a wedding?” Quentin asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Like I said, I was young and reckless.” I shake my head but can’t hold back the smile that comes to my lips. Those days with Kat were some of the most exhilarating of my life, and the memory of her dragging me along while I second guessed everything fills me with nostalgia. That was always our dynamic: me, the rule follower, and her, the fearless woman who swept me off my feet and make every day an adventure.
Quentin smirks. “Well, it seems like I do have some more to learn about my wife, then.”
As the night wears on, the initial shock of seeing Kat again begins to fade, replaced by a comfortable familiarity. We laugh and reminisce, and I find myself relaxing into the easy intimacy we used to share. Quentin laughs right along with us as Kat regales him with stories—thankfully mild ones—of our past.
After a couple drinks and over an hour of us talking, Quentin leans in to speak in my ear so only I can hear. “Should we head to the back rooms?” His voice is low and suggestive, and a pleasant shiver runs through me. It’s what we came here to do, after all.
“Sure,” I say, but my heart sinks at the thought of walking away from Kat. I glance over at her and can’t help but remember the way she used to kiss me, the way she never shied away from telling me how much I meant to her.
Losing her the first time was the most painful heartbreak I’ve ever felt, and I don’t think I can walk away again without putting out some sort of lifeline.
“One second,” I tell Quentin. “I’m going to give Kat my phone number.”
He nods. “That’s a great idea. Maybe she can join your brunch group with the girls.”
“Right.” The idea of introducing Kat as just a friend to the other women feels weird, though I can’t exactly explain why. We can still be just friends… right?
“Quentin and I are going to the back,” I tell Kat. “But here.” I pull out my phone and create a new contact, then hand her my phone so she can type in her number. Once she does, I send her a text so she has my number as well.
“Have fun,” Kat says when I turn to leave. “I hope I’ll see you around.” I might be imagining things with the lights flashing around the room, but I swear she winks at me. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, and I bite back a smile as I follow Quentin through the black door on the back wall.
The hallway is dimly lit, but it’s still so familiar that I could probably find my way with my eyes closed. We linger in the hall with a few others and watch a couple through one of the windows that gives a view into their private room. The woman is stripping slowly as the man sits on the edge of the bed stroking his cock while watching her. It’s slow and sensual, and it doesn’t take long before the ache of need between my legs becomes unbearable.
“Let’s get our own room,” I whisper to Quentin.
He nods in agreement and guides me down the hall until we find an uninhabited room with a window to the hall.
We’ve always liked being watched, and I’m glad to see that his preferences haven’t changed.
As if reading my mind, he asks, “You okay with this room?”
“Yes.” I don’t tell him that I’m even more excited about the idea of being watched than I have been in quite a while.
Quentin locks the door before setting his gaze on me and stalking toward me with intense desire in his eyes.
“Turn around.”
That edge of authority in his tone shoots straight to my core, and I follow his command without a word, turning to face the back wall.
Quentin’s fingertips graze the back of my neck before he slowly pulls the zipper of my dress down, and he trails his fingers down my spine where the fabric parts, over the lace of the lingerie. Once the zipper is fully down, I slip my arms from the sleeves and the dress falls to the floor, the fabric pooling at my feet.
I step out of the dress, kicking it aside, and Quentin's eyes rake over my body when I turn toward him.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You dressed up for me.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. You look fucking incredible.”
I smile at his praise and stand before him, waiting for his next instructions with my hands clasped behind my back. At home, he often still takes control in the bedroom, but not to the degree he does here. At Club Caliber, the atmosphere—and often the excitement of knowing people may be watching on the other side of the window—amps up every element of our sex life, including his dominance and my submission.
Quentin steps closer, his hands skimming over my lace-covered curves as he presses his body against mine and kisses me hard. He threads his fingers through my hair and tugs lightly, and I moan into his mouth as I melt into him.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispers when he finally pulls away.
“So have I.”
His hands slide down my back to cup my ass, which he squeezes before giving me a devious smile. “Ready to give them a show?” He gestures toward the window. I glance at it out of instinct, knowing I won’t be able to see any faces, but I detect movement in the dark.
Who knows how many people might be watching—or who might be watching…
I nod, and Quentin spins me around to face the window and presses his body against my back. He’s already hard, and his cock presses against my ass as he snakes his arms to my front, pulls the straps off my shoulders, and peels the lacy fabric down my body until my breasts are exposed. When he flicks his thumbs over my nipples, I let my head fall back in the crook of his neck as my eyes close.
The knowledge that people are watching us, seeing the way he touches me with the expertise that comes from so many years of knowing each other so intimately, sends electricity buzzing through my body.
Quentin slowly pulls off my lingerie, letting his touch linger on my sensitive skin as he removes the fabric and leaves me standing there completely naked.
“On the bed,” he commands. “And spread your legs so everyone out there can see that perfect pussy.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I comply. As I situate myself on the bed and spread my legs as much as I can, a familiar feeling settles in my gut. It’s the result of being so exposed, a mix between apprehension and exhilaration at doing something so taboo. I’ve always loved that feeling—the minor discomfort of feeling exposed but with a positive twist. Weirdly enough, it’s the same sort of frenetic energy I’d feel in a haunted house or… well, sneaking around with Kat.
Shit. I shouldn’t be thinking about her right now.
I partly recline on the bed as I watch Quentin undress before me. He takes his time slipping out of his clothes, purposefully forcing me to wait in anticipation, and I enjoy every second of it.
When he’s fully naked, he sits beside me on the bed so everyone still has a view of my body as he dips his head to my chest and plants kisses over my breasts before sucking a nipple into his mouth and grazing his teeth over it. I cry out at the sharp sensation that shoots straight to my core, and he plucks my other nipple with his fingers until I’m arching my back and breathing heavy.
“That’s right,” he says, “show everyone out there watching us how good I make you feel.”
I gasp as he slips his hand between my legs and pushes two fingers inside me.
“We have an audience,” he murmurs, glancing toward the window where shadowy figures move on the other side. “They're all watching you, all wishing they were in my place getting to touch you like this.”
The reminder that we’re being watched makes Quentin’s touch feel even more intense as he crooks his fingers inside me.
“Then make them jealous,” I murmur. “Show them what they’re missing.”
Quentin needs no further encouragement. In one swift movement, he’s flipping our positions so he’s on his back and I’m straddling him.
Grabbing the back of my neck with one hand, he pulls my face to his and kisses me again as his erection rubs against my pussy. I grind against his hard length, putting much-needed pressure on my clit, and he groans softly.
“Ride me,” he demands.
He doesn’t need to ask me twice.
I grab his cock in one hand and guide it to my entrance before sinking down on it. Fuck, that feels good .
Quentin grabs my hips as I steady myself with my hands on his chest. Once I’ve adjusted to his size, I lift my hips then slide back down, feeling his cock slide in and out of me. We find a rhythm, slow at first but increasing with every moment.
My hair falls across my face as I roll my hips, and the pressure inside me grows. Quentin’s hand leaves my hip, but the absence of his touch is immediately followed by a sharp smack on my ass. I gasp at the sudden pain, but I fucking love it.
The pleasure builds inside me at the sting of his palm against my ass coupled with how he lifts his hips to fuck me from below. Even with me on top, he somehow manages to take control of the situation and put me at his mercy.
He notices my eyes fluttering closed as my orgasm threatens to overtake me.
“Are you going to come for me?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Right there. Please don’t stop.”
He keeps up the pace and pounds into me over and over again, and I reach down to rub my clit to push me over the edge.
My orgasm hits hard, and it takes every ounce of effort to keep myself upright as my body convulses.
“That's it, baby,” Quentin pants, his voice strained. “Come for me. Let them see you come undone on my cock. Show everyone how fucking good I make you feel.”
I cry out and shatter around him, and he picks up his pace as I come down from the high. Quentin follows a few seconds later, spilling into me with a low groan and gripping my hips so hard I wonder if his fingers will leave bruises.
After a moment, I roll onto the bed beside him, and we lie there for a while to catch our breath.
Quentin turns his head to face me. “Just like old times,” he says with a playful grin.
I smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes, because as happy as I am, and as much as I love falling back into our dynamic like this, it’s not exactly like old times. One thing is different.
Because while I’d normally be thinking about whether or not we’ll have a second round, or maybe how we’ll relax once we go home, instead I’m thinking about something—someone—else.
I can’t get Kat out of my mind, and a part of me hopes she’s been watching from the other side of that window.
Even worse, I want her to miss me in the same way I miss her, even if our past is long-gone.