Chapter 9
Colin’s sitting across from me, all buttoned-up in his navy sweater and that ever-present, too-sure smile. We’re at this dimly lit Italian restaurant he loves, celebrating our anniversary. He’s talking about something his mom said the other day, but all I can think about is how normal this is. He leans forward, a small box in his hand.
“Here,” he says, pushing it toward me with a grin. “Happy anniversary.”
I open it, fingers clumsy. Inside is a delicate gold bracelet, simple but beautiful. He’s staring at me, expectant, eyes full of hope.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, forcing a smile as I slip it on. “Thank you, Colin.”
His hand reaches for mine across the table. “I know we’ve had our rough patches, Remy, but that’s normal, right? Relationships aren’t easy. But I’m ready to make it work. I’m here for the long haul. I love you.”
He squeezes my hand, and I find myself nodding automatically. I feel pathetic, cheating on him with Zane Coburn. If I could even call it that? He’s had his mouth on my pussy on two different occasions and we’ve kissed. I just don’t know if a guy coming onto me that strong is my fault? Either way, it’s a weak fucking thought and he’s the one I can’t seem to stop thinking about.
Colin leans in and I meet him halfway, pressing my lips against his. It’s soft, sweet, but something’s off. His words sit heavy in my mind, his grip just a little too steady.
We order our food, and the evening continues like we’re just two people going through the motions. He talks, I nod, he reaches for my hand again, I let him. It’s fine, it’s nice, but it doesn’t hit anywhere it should. When we finish, he stands up and takes care of the bill, smiling at me like he’s got everything figured out.
“Ready to head back?” he asks as he slips his arm around my shoulders, guiding me out.
In the car, he’s got his hand on my thigh, his fingers warm and slightly insistent. He’s been hinting for a while now that he wants to take things further. And tonight, with the bracelet and the talk about commitment, I know exactly where he’s headed.
He parks outside my house, turning to me with a look that’s both expectant and hopeful. “So… Remy,” he says, hand still resting on my thigh. “What do you think? You ready to, you know, take the next step?”
I freeze, caught off guard by how direct he’s being. My throat tightens, and I force myself to keep it casual, laughing lightly as I shake my head. “Not tonight, Colin. Sorry.”
He hides his disappointment well, his hand giving my thigh one last squeeze before he pulls back. “Okay. No pressure.” He leans over, kissing me gently. “Happy anniversary, Remy.”
“Yeah. Happy anniversary,” I reply, slipping out of the car and walking up to the house, feeling like I’m walking through fog.
Inside, the house is quiet. My mom’s working a double tonight, which leaves me alone with a gnawing guilt that refuses to let go. I head to my room, flicking the light on and freeze.
Zane’s sitting on my bed, still in his jersey, looking like he’s been through hell. His lip is split, and there’s a nasty black bruise under his eye.
“Zane,” I gasp, rushing over to him. “How the hell did you get in here? What happened to your face?”
He chuckles, though it sounds more like a hiss, wincing. “You should see the other guy.”
Ignoring him, I dart to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with warm water. When I come back, he’s watching me with this tired smirk, like he’s amused by my fussing. I sit beside him, gently dabbing at his lip.
He doesn’t flinch, just watches me. “You were with your…”
I pause, a wave of guilt knotting in my chest. “Yeah,” I mutter, focusing on the towel, avoiding his gaze.
His hand reaches up, covering mine and taking the towel, tossing it aside like he couldn’t care less. He pulls me onto his lap, and I’m too stunned to resist. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing softly over my skin.
“Do you love him?” His voice is low, rough, and his gaze is intense, locking onto mine with a question I don’t want to answer.
My chest aches, but I nod, even though it feels like a lie. “Yeah… I think I do.”
He leans in, our lips barely brushing, his breath warm against mine. “I don’t care, Remy,” he whispers, his tone fierce. “I don’t fucking care.” It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
And then he’s kissing me. It’s raw, hungry, nothing like the sweet, tame kisses Colin gives. His hands are in my hair, on my back, pulling me close like he can’t stand the space between us.
I’m leaning into his touch, his fingers firm as they trace my jaw, my neck. His hand slides down, pressing against the small of my back. He’s holding me so close, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
“I needed you there today,” he mutters, his voice low, almost a growl. “In the stands. Watching me.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Yeah? I thought with that huge of a crowd cheering for you, you wouldn’t even notice.”
His mouth curves in this dark, hungry smile. “Oh, I would notice. Trust me. I notice everything about you, baby . ”
Before I can say anything else, his arms are around me, lifting me up and laying me onto the bed. My heart races as he moves over me, his weight pressing me down in this way that makes it impossible to think about anything else. I reach up, grabbing the hem of his jersey, and tug it up, revealing that perfect stretch of his tattoos and muscles. He watches me, his eyes hot and intense, like he’s barely holding himself back.
His hands slide down to my dress, fingers skimming the fabric before gripping the hem and tugging it up, baring my legs, my hips. His hands are everywhere, rough, hot, almost frantic. It’s like he’s starved.
“You’re hurt,” I breathe, glancing at the split on his lip, the bruises on his cheek.
“I’m not.” He leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “If I don’t taste you, I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I nod, my breaths coming out in quick, uneven bursts. And just like that, he’s tugging my panties down, the cool air hitting my skin as he slips them off and shoves them into his pocket. The gesture’s possessive, like he’s claiming a part of me, and it sends a thrill through me.
Then his mouth is on me, his tongue warm and firm. I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me as he works, his hands holding my hips in place as I writhe beneath him. It’s intense, raw, his tongue finding every sensitive spot, driving me higher and higher until there’s nothing left but him, the way he feels, the way he—
“Such a little slut,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of hunger and heat, and the words send me spiraling over the edge, my body shuddering, clenching around the waves of pleasure.
When I finally catch my breath, I’m sitting up, adjusting my glasses which are all askew. He’s looking at me, smirking, and I know I must look like a mess.
“Am I… am I a terrible fucking person?” The question slips out before I can stop it, a knot of guilt twisting in my stomach.
He cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my skin. “That’s up to you to figure out, sweetheart,” he says softly, his tone almost gentle. “But to me? You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. Or touched. Or tasted.”
A smile tugs at my lips despite myself. “Really?”
He smirks, kissing me again, his lips soft against mine. I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “How’d the game go, by the way?”
His smirk widens, and he shrugs like it’s no big deal. “We won.”
I grin, nudging him. “Congrats.”
He gives me a look, dark and knowing. “Do I get a congratulatory gift for making the winning shot? I worked so fucking hard to win that game, you know.”
I swallow as he traces my bottom lip with his thumb, pressing it down just enough to make me part my lips.
“I want to fuck you right here,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over my tongue, making my pulse jump.
A familiar zing of heat spreads between my thighs. My voice comes out breathy, uncertain. “I… uh, you want this?” I suck his finger into my mouth and rub it with my tongue. “As your reward?”
His eyes darken.
“But I might not be, you know… good at it.”
He chuckles softly, his gaze intense. “Baby, my dick in your mouth is going to be so fucking good.”
I nod, my fingers trembling as I reach for the button on his jeans, my heart racing as I fumble with it. His gaze never leaves me, watching as I finally manage to undo it, lowering his zipper. His boxers are black, hugging his body in a way that makes it impossible to look away.
He pulls his jersey off the rest of the way, and I’m once again struck by just how gorgeous he is, every muscle defined, his hard length right there for me.
He’s watching me, this hunger in his eyes that makes everything else fall away. I’m sitting here, barely able to breathe, feeling the weight of him, his presence filling up every inch of the room. My fingers are still at his waistband, hesitant, and he catches my hand, bringing it up to his lips.
“Have you never done any of this?” he asks, his voice a low murmur against my knuckles. “We don’t have to rush. But, damn, I don’t want to stop.”
I manage a head shake. “I haven’t, but I don’t want to stop either.”
His fingers tilt my chin up so I’m looking right at him. “I want you so fucking bad. I’ll fuck you raw another night. For now, I want to see what that mouth can do to please me. A gift from you to me because I’m being so fucking gentle and patient.”
I’m speechless, caught in his gaze. He’s still holding my hand, his thumb brushing over my wrist in slow circles that are somehow calming and electrifying all at once. I lean forward, my mouth finding his, and he responds instantly, pulling me in closer, his hands roaming up my back, tangling in my hair.
“You’re driving me insane, Remy,” he whispers against my lips. “I swear, every time I see you, it’s like… nothing else matters.”
I swallow, my heart pounding. “You know…Colin asked me tonight if we could, you know, take things to the next level.”
His jaw tightens for a second, but he relaxes, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “And what did you say?”
“I didn’t–” I murmur, looking away. “I… I couldn’t.”
He breathes out, almost like he’s relieved. “Good.”
There’s something about the way he says it, like it matters to him. And maybe it does. I meet his gaze again, and he leans in, his forehead resting against mine.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asks softly.
“Yes,” I breathe out, barely a whisper, and that’s all he needs.
His lips are on mine again, intense, like he’s pouring everything into it, like he’s making up for all the time we missed. My hands move up to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under my fingers as he guides me down onto the bed.
It’s overwhelming, every touch, every kiss, filling me up, making me forget about anything that came before. Right now, it’s just us. Just this.
Zane lies down beside me, his eyes dark and intense. “Do you want me to show you what I like?” He raises an eyebrow, a hint of mischief dancing in his gaze.
I nod, biting my lip, anticipation flooding my veins. “Okay,” I whisper, barely able to contain myself.
He pushes his boxers down, and I stutter my breath. Damn, he’s bigger than I imagined. Thick and hard, veins throbbing at the top, leaking a bit of precum. He swipes his finger through it and brings it to my mouth. “Lick it.”
I do, tasting the salty tang mixed with something sweet. It makes me want more. “Ready?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.
I nod again, my throat tight with excitement. He takes my hand and wraps it around his cock.
“Yes. Just like that, Remy. Fuck.” His eyes roll back as I move my hand over the ridges, and I can’t help but smile at the sound. It’s like music to my ears.
“Tighten your fist a little,” he instructs, and I do. He flexes into my grip, and I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face as I squeeze him again. More of his precum drips down his cock and onto my tight fist.
He groans as he pushes in and out of my fist. I love watching him lose control for me. I use my other hand to cup his balls, rolling them once. Then twice. His eyes watch me, little groans escaping his parted lips. A dribble of blood slides down his lower lip which his tongue darts out to swipe at.
His cock twitches. He is both hard and velvety soft. I want to taste him.
I need to. I feel myself grow slick between my legs.
“Can I put it in my mouth now?” I ask, a little breathless.
“Jesus fucking Christ Remy,” he groans, and I’m practically buzzing with delight. “I need your pussy in my face right fucking now. Come here.”
Climbing into his lap, I lean in, trying to take him into my mouth. It’s messier than I imagined, and I’m surprised when he tugs me by the hips, pulling me onto his face.
“Fuck,” I cry out, feeling him part me with his tongue. It’s overwhelming, sensations flooding me as he licks and teases.
He smacks my ass, the sting making me gasp. “Suck my dick, baby, but keep grinding against my tongue.”
I’m struggling to think as he’s taking me apart with his mouth. Every lick, every swirl makes me writhe, and my mind is a chaotic jumble of pleasure and desire.
“Zane, I can’t—” I gasp, trying to focus on his cock, but I choke, saliva dripping down my neck as I try to take him deeper.
“Just breathe,” he murmurs, the vibration of his voice sending shivers through me. “You’re doing so fucking good.”
I push myself to work him over, the heat between us building as I desperately try to keep my rhythm. It’s a race against time, and I can feel him pulling me closer and closer to the edge.
“Please,” I whimper, my body on fire, aching for release, but he doesn’t let up. His tongue is relentless, driving me mad as I choke again, tears of frustration mixing with my lust.
“Just a little longer,” he urges, his eyes locked on mine, filled with hunger. “It feels so fucking good, Rem.”
We go on and on, lost in the heat of the moment. I’m working my mouth over him, and he’s moaning my name like it’s a prayer. Suddenly, he’s gasping, “Remy, I’m—”
Before he finishes, he’s coming all over me, and it’s so much that I can barely keep it down. It spills over, and I choke, trying not to gag as I swallow what I can.
“Shit!” I manage, wiping the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand, a wild grin plastered across my face.
“God, you’re a little slut, aren’t you?” he growls, his breath hot against my skin. He holds me to his mouth, flicking his tongue furiously, sending me over the edge. I can’t help but come, collapsing on top of him, my body shaking with aftershocks.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, stilling his movements as I tremble against him. “You’re incredible.”
I take a moment to catch my breath, feeling him beneath me, the heat radiating off his body. “What was that?” I laugh breathlessly, still buzzing from everything.
“That was... amazing,” he replies, his hands running up and down my back. “But we’re definitely doing that again, little slut.”
His words send a thrill down my spine as he flips me onto my back, climbing on top of me. His lips crash against mine, hungry and desperate. I can taste him still, and it makes my heart race again.
“Can we shower?” he asks, pulling back just enough to catch my gaze.
“I can’t move,” I say, half-laughing, half-serious. My limbs feel like jelly, and the thought of standing seems impossible.
He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Fine, I’ll handle it.”
He climbs off the bed, and I watch him walk away, the sight of his toned body making my stomach flutter. A few moments later, he’s back with a warm towel. “Here,” he says, cleaning me up with gentle hands. The warmth spreads over my skin, and I can’t help but smile up at him.
“You’re such a gentleman,” I tease, enjoying the attention.
“Only for you,” he replies, a smirk playing on his lips.
Once I’m cleaned up, he slips me into his jersey, the fabric soft and comforting against my skin. It smells of sweat and him. “Perfect fit,” he says, and I can’t help but blush.
“Is this what you had on during the game?” I ask.
“Nah. That one reeked. I showered and put on a clean one before coming over.”
He cuddles up next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him, feeling safe and satisfied. “You okay?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“Now I am,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I don’t know when I dozed off, but the next thing I know, I’m waking up, the bed cool beside me. I sit up, glancing around the room. “Zane?” I call out, my voice hoarse. No answer.
I rub my eyes, disoriented and still wrapped in his damn jersey, that hangs on me, reminding me of... everything. Where the hell did he go? I look around the room. The sheets are rumpled, pillow dented from where his head was. But now? Nothing. Just me, the fading warmth of where he was, and the ache that’s settling in.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet hit the cold floor. I pull the jersey tighter around me, the smell of him clinging to the fabric, all pine and leather. “God, what did I expect? That he’d actually stay the night?” I scoff at myself, shaking my head.
But... okay, yeah. I wanted him to stay the night.
I sit there for a minute, letting that admission sink in before I get up and head for the bathroom. I flip on the light, squinting at the brightness, and catch sight of myself in the mirror. Messy hair, swollen lips, and that look in my eyes – like I’d just been turned inside out.
I reach for the faucet, twisting it to hot, watching the steam rise. A shower. I need a shower to... wash all of this away. Just as I’m about to step in, something glints on the sink – a silver bracelet, delicate, familiar. Colin.
“Shit.” My voice comes out broken, and it all hits me at once. The reality of tonight – everything I just did with Zane on the very night of my anniversary with Colin. And I betrayed him.
I sink down on the bathroom floor, clutching the bracelet. It’s like the weight of it digs into my skin, mocking me. How could I? Colin, who’s been nothing but good to me, who’s never hurt me, never doubted me. And here I am. The tears come out of nowhere, hot and angry, spilling over as I press my fist to my mouth.
“How could I be so stupid?” I whisper, my voice cracking.
I don’t even know how long I sit there, feeling the shame crawl over me, tightening in my chest. Colin’s face keeps flashing through my mind.
I am a little slut, aren’t I?