“Tell me how we could have a sex-only relationship?”
“We’re adults, Bailey. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not for me,” I stress. “I can’t promise to shut off my feelings.”
“Is that so? You’d walk away out of fear?” His voice is vacant of all warmth.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Drew.” I watch as he takes deep, shallow breaths, a cold knot forming in my stomach.
Fuck.
He seems pissed at my answer, and I think I see hurt there too.
I know I shouldn’t care. That I should just walk away while I still have the chance. Yet I can’t help but want to comfort him, help heal the pain behind those dark, endless eyes. I know what it’s like to be that lost, and maybe, just maybe, I might help him find peace, if only for a minute.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“Just leave,” he snaps. My pulse begins to beat erratically as I step closer to him. My hand reaches for his, my fingers trembling as I make contact.
“I said leave, Bailey.” A tense silence fills the room.
I contemplate everything he’s said and done. He’s as broken as I am. I don’t know why, but I can see it as plain as day. Maybe two broken people can heal each other? Could he be right? Am I turning my back out of fear? I’m no coward.
“No,” I finally say, my voice firm.
“First, you say no because you want to leave. Now you say no because you don’t. Make up your fucking mind, little girl. Because if you stay”—he grabs me roughly by the waist—“I’m fucking you, hard.”
I feel like my breath is cut off, my mind fluttering around in a million directions. Against my better judgment, I want to submit to him. I want to be what he needs, and if this is what he desires, then I can’t help but want to give it to him. I lift my hand and lightly stroke his jaw. His body stills, his eyes narrowing.
“Bend over, Bailey.” His words come out thick and hoarse, and the rich timbre sends a chill down my spine. “Hold the desk.” I walk toward it. With each step I take, I shimmy my panties off. When I finally place my hand on his desk, I’m fully exposed, the cold air hitting my core.
Peeking over my shoulder, I see him standing there stoically, and a tingling in the pit of my stomach forms. A delightful shiver of desire runs through me.
His pupils dilate, sending an electric flare of heat through my body. Stepping toward me, he quickly unzips his fly and begins stroking his length slowly.
Painfully slow.
Deliberately teasing me.
His other hand reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and running it down his thick length.
“Turn your head back toward the wall,” he commands, and I do, my vision focusing on the painting hanging above his desk. The slow torture of waiting for him to touch me makes me dizzy, and I try to concentrate on something else. Anything to stop my heart from thrumming so hard that I think it might implode. Just when I think I can’t take another second of waiting, he grabs my hips so tight I’m sure there will be a bruise there tomorrow. A moan escapes my lips, and I bite down to silence myself.
“No need to fight it. No one will hear you over the bass,” he growls out, his lips teasing the curve of my ear. He slides against my core before entering me roughly. Drew thrusts in and out, barely allowing me to adjust to him. The pace speeds up, drawing a moan from my lips.
“I fucking love the sounds you make. Tell me you want more. Tell me, Bailey.”
I moan once more. “God, yes, I want more. Please,” I beg, raising my hips to meet him thrust for thrust. His strokes are hard and deep as he reaches around me and starts stroking me, causing me to spasm around him. My release comes quickly after. He pushes forward a few more times before his body collapses onto my back. Fully sated, we simultaneously sigh.
I peer around my shoulder, and his eyes are shut as his breathing calms. As he opens them, his eyes find mine, slanting slightly as he takes me in. But it’s not Drew staring back at me, it’s Jet.
Memories from the past assault me, and Jet is in the lead, always hurting me.
“Fuck, Bailey. Did I hurt you?” he asks as he examines my bare hips.
“I’m okay.” My voice is only a whisper, suddenly feeling sick. Drew didn’t do anything wrong, but my mind is messing with me.
“Fuck,” he mumbles again as he pulls out of me and readjusts himself. He moves away, disposing of the evidence of what we just did.
“I—Here, let me help you.” His hand reaches for mine, and he helps pull me upright. “Listen, I’m sorr—”