Bait (Wake, #1)(36)

“Thank you for saying yes,” he said as he ran a soft hand down my cheek. I leaned back and he moved over me.

I only nodded.

I shouldn't be doing this.

His other hand found my waist and then moved south. I rose to kiss him, trying to shake this weird feeling that was blooming in my stomach. My mouth met his and I kissed him with fervor. My mind pleaded with my body to get on board.

His hand found my center. His fingers found all of the places he knew I liked. His touches weren't urgent or desperate; they were calculated with over a year’s worth of history guiding their ministrations.

Grant took his time, not rushing through foreplay. He kissed me where he should. He stroked and caressed me in all of the right spots.

I touched him and worked his erection with one hand. He was hard and his tip was slick with readiness. I shifted, as a sign I was ready and that I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel that rush of love and adoration that came with an orgasm. I needed it. I needed it for us.

He made love to me. He told me how beautiful I was. How he couldn't wait for our future. That I was the only girl for him. It was quiet, except for our breathing and the occasional moan. I didn't feel the usual build. I wasn't climbing like I could tell he was.

I looked at the clock, something I couldn’t remember ever doing before in my life during sex. It read ten thirty-seven.

I should be texting Casey.

Casey had a girlfriend.

I had a fiancé.

I wondered if he'd tried to call.

I'd told him to wait.

Did he know she messaged me?

Grant’s body language was such that I recognized him nearing his end.

“Are you getting close?” he asked in my ear, the closeness made my body shiver as his voice vibrated the little hairs inside of my ear. My body gave a little shake. Grant took the movement as my answer.

“Good. I'm about to, too.” He leaned up on his elbows and slid his hands behind me under my pillow. His hips pushed in and out of me in a synchronized tempo. In and out. In and out. I almost looked at the clock again to work out how much longer he would take.

He thought that the tickle I'd had from his breath touching my ear was the beginning of my orgasm. I knew I wasn't going to get there and that his was knocking at the door.

He wouldn't be angry if I didn't come. He might have been concerned; it was a special night and all. I'd hate to make him feel bad after how wonderful he'd been.

So I began an act that I didn't know I'd prepared. I pushed my head back into the soft satin pillowcase under my head and my hands went to his ass. I began panting and moaning, meeting his thrusts with new energy. I threw my whole entire body into a performance.

“Yes,” I purred leaning up to pair our lips. “Yes.”

Grant wasn't a very vocal or loud man in bed. He told me how good he felt, or how beautiful I was, he would say my name and things like that. I could tell that my actions were ringing true to him, because his brow cinched and his mouth hung open and a long, “Ahhh,” came out as he did.

He stilled and throbbed, slowing his movements inside me, collapsing on my chest. I squeezed my inner muscles in reflex to the sensation. He coated the tops of my breasts with pecking kisses.

“I love you, Blake,” he said, stretching to my mouth and kissing me one last time before gently pulling himself out of me.

“I love you, too,” I whispered loud enough for him to hear. “I'm going to get some water. Do you need anything?”

I had to get out of that bed. I had to be alone for a minute.

“No, thanks. I'm going to sleep.” He rolled over and pulled the sheets up the length of himself.

I thought about another man while I was having sex with my boyfriend. Fiancé. They weren't erotic thoughts, thank God, but they were a distraction when my focus should have been on the man I’d confessed my love to.

An unsettling feeling once again festered inside me. It felt like shame. Like I didn't want anyone to ever know what had happened. Like I'd been unfaithful just now, when I hadn't. I was with the man I was supposed to be with.

Then my mind meandered to a place that turned my mild uneasiness into full-blown panic. What if he's with her right now? Irrational as it was, my thoughts were uncoordinated and didn't make sense.

I grabbed a tank top and put a pair of pajama pants on and walked down the hall to the kitchen in the dark. My phone still sat on the counter. I stared at it all the way to the refrigerator. I stopped, just before opening the door to grab a bottle of water.

I couldn't stop myself. Compulsion controlled my hand.

I powered on the device. It went through all of the startup screens and it felt like it was taking forever. Then nothing.

He'd only done what I’d asked, but I was hoping he hadn’t. It was depressing.

My heart should be excited, in awe, but it felt as though it was slowly breaking.

No Casey. No missed calls. No messages.

No falling asleep happy.





Thursday, July 3, 2008


NO CALLS. NO MESSAGES. No Blake. What a shitty night.

Earlier when I'd come out of the shower, I found Aly watching TV and messing with her phone. I was thankful that I'd had the good sense to put on a towel. It turned out she had my other room key. She looked focused on what she was doing, so I didn't say anything.