In seconds of him touching my clit I was climaxing. The longest and hardest one I’d ever felt. His cock went deeper, fucking against my cervix. The point between pleasure and pain became blurred. His hands went to my shoulders and he held on as he fucked me. Growls, flesh slapping and moans echoed round the walls of the office. Unlike the book, he didn’t pull out. Dean pushed inside me and climaxed, washing my womb with his seed. He pulsed inside me for the longest time. Not pulling away.
Something had changed. I felt it in the air. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was there. He finally pulled out of my body and, in my heart and body, I felt him draw away from me.
Dear Diary,
Dean has gone. He said he couldn’t take me with him because of my work and this was his own work he had to do.
I don’t know what I’ve done. Dean told me not to worry and said he’d give me a call when he’s ready to see me or when he gets back. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. He assured me that nothing was wrong.
Dean said he had finished his book and needed to go and see his editor. I didn’t know authors had to constantly see their editors in person. He told me once that the ideal of being an e-book writer is that he could stay at home and email his manuscripts and that seeing his editor was only essential at pinnacle points in the year, like a convention or meeting or something. I guess the rules change to suit him.
Chapter Fourteen
Laura hadn’t heard from Dean in a few days and she wasn’t in a good mood. In between stacking books and talking to Peter, she thought about the last time they’d been together. She couldn’t find anything that would have made him upset.
“Earth to Laura,” Peter said and waved a hand in front of her face.
“Sorry, did I zone out then?”
“Yes. You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he told her.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind. Sorry. You were saying?” she asked, rubbing a hand over her eyes and trying to clear her head.
“I wondered if you’d go out with me tonight?”
Laura stopped. She had half a day, as it was Friday, and her bag lay on the table. The main librarian had told her to finish putting the books back in the reference section and then she could go for the day.
“Peter, I told you I don’t want that,” she said and placed the final book on the shelf.
“All I’m asking is for a chance. A chance to prove to you I’m not an insensitive jerk,” he pleaded.
She hated herself. Why had she thought that she and Peter could just be friends without Peter expecting something from her in return?
“It’s nothing personal," she replied. "I don’t want to explore that side of things with you.”
“Is there someone else?” he asked getting to his feet.
Laura hesitated for a split second. Dean was the main man and only man she wanted in her life. Telling Peter about him would be a big mistake.
“Don’t be silly,” she denied.
“Why did you have to think about it?” he argued.
“For God sake, Peter. I’m tired. There isn’t another man in my life and I don’t want to have dinner with you.” She grabbed her bag with force, placed it on her shoulder and moved toward the exit.
“What about me walking you home?” he called.
“Don’t bother. I want to be alone,” she shouted back. Laura walked the short distance home and slammed the door.
“Be careful with that, missy. I won’t have bad temper in my house,” her mum said.
Laura growled and stormed upstairs. She needed to get her own place. Being at home was stifling her. She was twenty years old and a grown woman. She collapsed on her bed and waited for the day to be over. It was Friday and she didn’t want to go anywhere; except to the one place unavailable to her.
* * * *
Peter watched her leave, again. He always said the wrong thing. Nothing he did seemed to help in any way. He grabbed his stuff and turned to leave the library, stumbling on a book on the floor. To catch himself from falling, he dropped his own books in a pile. He’d started bringing some work to do while waiting for her.
He cursed and picked up the books. When he placed all of his in a pile he saw a plain brown book. He opened up the first page and saw Laura’s name. A quick flick threw the pages he saw her writing on most of the pages. He slammed the book closed. This book was her diary, her personal thoughts. Reading the pages would be an invasion of her privacy. Unable to resist the pull of knowing more about the woman he cared about, Peter opened to the first entry. His heart stopped and, for the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to be heart broken.