I wanted it so badly.
I understood why he’d refused me, and maybe I did need to examine my motives for coming over here so soon after Dan admitted he’d cheated and asked for time apart. Did I really want to sleep with Miles? Had I just raced over here out of spite? Or was it because I was hot in the pants and thought he’d be a sure thing?
Jesus. This was so embarrassing. I’d been rejected by not one but two men in as many days: my own boyfriend, and a guy who once had sex in an airplane bathroom with a flight attendant whose name he had forgotten by the time he told me about it.
(How was that even possible? There is no room in those bathrooms!)
What the hell was wrong with me? Bringing my hands to my face, I curled up in a ball and wept into them.
A week ago, my life had seemed right on track.
What had gone wrong?
It took every ounce of strength I had, and some I didn’t, to walk out of that room. There she was, desperate and needy and begging me to fuck her, this beautiful, perfect woman I’d idealized and adored, and I’d had to turn her down.
Fucking hell.
I braced myself with both arms on the granite island in the kitchen, grimacing as I willed my dick to give up the dream and retreat. You can stop being hard now. It’s not happening tonight. I know that’s a shock, but just relax already. I’ll pay attention to you later.
After a few deep breaths and some concentrated thoughts on unsexy things like my great aunt Mildred, the smell of pigeon shit, and doing my taxes, my heart rate slowed and my cock seemed to get the message.
I made a fresh pot of coffee, dumping what was left over from this afternoon. The words hadn’t been flowing too well today, and I’d hoped a caffeine infusion would help. But mostly I’d spent the day brooding over Natalie, annoyed that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But there was nothing I could do about it. She was a relationship person; I was not.
The End.
But fucking Dan! What had he done to her tonight to make her show up here like this? It was torture! I’d fucked girls with boyfriends in the past, I’d fucked friends in the past, and I certainly had no hang-ups about no-strings-attached sex, but something inside me would not go there with her. She was different.
She was also drunk.
She had to be, throwing herself at me that way, saying those things. That wasn’t like her at all. Blindfold her? Tie her up? Jesus, I loved the thought that there might be a kinky side of Natalie to explore, but the circumstances here were too fraught with the wrong kind of tension. Until I was confident that she wasn’t coming after me just to spite her boyfriend, I wasn’t going to risk ruining our friendship over one night of hot sex. It was bad enough I said those things to her…although I’d meant them.
Fuck yes, I’d meant them. I wanted nothing more than to tease her, play with her, make her vulnerable for all the right reasons. I wanted to see her naked and needy beneath me, her skin slick with sweat, her legs open for me. I’d make her come with my tongue first, use my fingers inside her, and when she was drenched and panting and whispering my name, I’d slide into her, slowly at first, make her feel every inch of my hard—
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Again?
Adjusting myself so my erection wasn’t pinned painfully inside my jeans, I briefly considered going upstairs to jerk off before the coffee was done. It would only take a minute. But then I heard a few muffled sobs coming from the living room, and my chest caved a little. She needed me more than my dick did. Sorry, buddy. Usually I put you first, but not tonight.
I found some Motrin in a kitchen cabinet, poured a glass of water and then some coffee, and I put everything on a tray I saw lying on the counter. Feeling pleased with myself, I carried the tray into the living room, set it on the coffee table, and switched on a lamp.
She was curled in a ball on the couch, her shoes on the floor, one bare foot covering the other one. Her dress had ridden up, and I willed myself not to peek at her crotch.
OK, I peeked. She was wearing black lace panties. Fuck.
But her face was buried in her hands, and her whole body shook with sad, pitiful sobs.
“Hey. Come on. It’s not that bad.” I sat down next to her and put a hand on her back.
“Yes, it is,” she wept.