I’m forgetting something. The thought keeps playing over and over in my head. But I shake it away. There is nothing I need to remember. Right now, all I care about is getting out of here .
“My apartment is two blocks from here. Are you okay with walking?” he asks, staring down at my shoes .
I smile. I’ve walked plenty of runways in shoes twice as high. I can handle two blocks .
I wanted to go home though, not go to his place. I open my mouth to protest when his lips find mine again, silencing any thoughts of wanting to go home. His hungry mouth begs me to come home with him. His tongue teases my mouth with promises of pleasure that await the rest of my body once I get to his apartment .
I haven’t been with a guy in years—three years, to be exact. I haven’t had the pleasure of a guy bringing me to come while thrusting inside me since my high school boyfriend dumped me during my freshman year of college. It’s not that I haven’t had opportunities, but they have been few and far between. I’m not supposed to date. I’m not supposed to fall in love .
But this isn’t a date. And it sure as hell isn’t love .
It’s lust .
His hand brushes my long hair back as his lips move from my lips to my neck. He skims warm kisses over my soft flesh, sending warm chills over my body. I feel my desire for him growing in my belly. I want him—now. Maybe going home with him isn’t such a bad idea after all .
I reach for my phone in my purse, but I come up empty. It’s gone. I can’t ask what I should do. I’m on my own to decide .
I moan against his lips .
“Let’s go,” he says, making the decision for me .
He grabs my hand, and we begin walking the two blocks that should take less than five minutes to walk .
Between me stumbling in my heels and Brent stopping to kiss me against the wall of a building, it takes more like twenty minutes to reach his building. I stand, staring up at the ten-story building that seems to be swaying slightly even though a gentle breeze isn’t blowing. Not that wind would be able to move a building. Would it ?
I close my eyes hard before opening them again. The building seems to have stopped swaying in the few seconds my eyes were closed .
I grin widely at Brent as he takes my hand back in his, and he guides me up the three stairs into his apartment building. The building is old, at least fifty years old .
I glance up and see a sign for the elevator that reads, Out of Service . My mouth hangs open .
Oh, please let him live on the first floor .
“Just up one flight of stairs,” Brent says, grinning .
I nod, and we slowly make our way up the stairs. Brent’s hand never leaves mine. It’s nice to have a man’s hand holding mine, keeping me safe .
We barely make it into his apartment before his lips crush against mine again. His shirt along with his shoes are off in seconds. I try my best to keep up as I flick off my own shoes, but I can’t balance on one foot. I fall, but I am surprised when something soft breaks my fall—a couch. I’ve fallen over the side of the couch. I quickly remove my shoes before I feel Brent move on top of me, pressing me further into the couch .
As he kisses me, I keep my eyes, trying to take in my surroundings, but it’s dark, too dark to see anything. When his lips find the spot sensitive spot on my neck, I let all thoughts go as I moan with pleasure .
“You”—he kisses my chest—“are”—his kisses trail lower to my breasts—“the”—his mouth grabs at the fabric, pulling it down and exposing my bare breasts, and he sucks in a breath at the sight—“most beautiful woman .”
I innocently bite my lip as I stare up at him, waiting to see what he will do. I don’t know how to respond to his nice words, so I don’t. I let my hard nipples do the talking for me. I want him .
His eyes never leave mine as his mouth descends slowly until it is just an inch from my throbbing nipple. He’s asking permission, I finally realize, as he hovers over me but doesn’t touch. I arch my back just slightly, so my nipple presses against his lips. I close my eyes as his lips softly kiss my nipple before his tongue tastes and flicks over the hard peak .
I moan softly. I feel the desire for more forming in my belly. Right now, I will let this man do anything to my body. I want more. I need more. I want to feel good and forget about everything else .
His lips move to my other breast as his body shifts on top of me. His erection presses harder into my stomach. When I feel it, instead of the pleasure I expected, I feel pain. I feel liquid forming in my stomach, needing to come out. I feel it rising quickly in my chest .
“Sick,” I say as I push at Brent’s chest to get him off of me .
He quickly moves with a shocked expression on his face. I run from the room as the liquid threatens at my throat .
I run down the dark hallway, but Brent hasn’t offered directions of where a bathroom might be. I open the first door. I fumble at the wall, trying to find a light switch. When I find it, lights brighten the room, but it’s not a bathroom. It’s a guy’s messy bedroom .
God, please let Brent have a messy roommate. I’m not sure I could have sex with someone who lives so messily .