Birthday Girl(92)

“Yes,” she breathes out, her eyes falling closed. “Yeah, God, please…”

I grab her ass and arch up, taking a nipple in my mouth again, sucking and tugging and then moving to the next one in a frenzy. She leans into me, never slowing her pace, and I can feel the sweat gliding down the small of her back.

I suck in air through my teeth, my muscles tensing, and I’m close. I flip her back over, hungry to be in control again, and her head falls at the side of the bed, too close to the bedside table. I grab the edge of it and whip it away, sending it toppling over, lamp and everything crashing to the floor.

She whimpers and kisses me, caught up in the madness of the moment, too.

“Don’t stop,” she pants. “Don’t stop. I’m gonna come again.”

I press my forehead to hers, both of us damn near hyperventilating as I thrust over and over again, trying to think of anything that won’t make me come, but she feels too good, and I’m too fucking lost.

“Oh, Pike,” she cries. “Right there. Yeah…”

My muscles are burning, my head is spinning, but I don’t break pace, because if I fucking die right now, this is how I want to go out.

“Ah,” she moans, her body tensing and her breathing shaking.

She falls silent and then…she throws her head back and cries out. “Oh, God!”

I kiss her hard, seeing her come again enough to send me over the edge. I thrust hard, squeezing my eyes shut and spilling, diving deep inside her again and again as the orgasm wracks through my body and exhaustion and euphoria set in at the same time.

White hot heat streams from my thighs, and my cock pulses, and everything about her is heaven. Everything feels like it’s the first time.

I come down, resting my elbows on either side of her head and smooth the hair away from her face.

She gazes up at me, her face flushed and shiny with a light layer of sweat. “You didn’t kiss her, did you?” she asks softly.

I chuckle under my breath. “And that’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

She twists her lips in embarrassment, but she presses anyway, “You didn’t, right?”

“No,” I tell her. “And she wouldn’t have spent the night. I was trying to forget about you and how much I wanted this, but it wouldn’t have happened. You were right. I wanted you.”

I kiss her, surprised that even though I’ve come, I’m not done with her. I could stay here all night.

“And that little shit from the block party?” I question her. “Nothing happened, right?”

Her faint dimples grow deeper.

“Jordan,” I warn, furrowing my brow.

She laughs. “No,” she finally answers. “He doesn’t have your body,” she gives my cheek a peck, “or your tattoos,” she kisses my jaw, “or your mouth,” she kisses my lips, “and every word that comes out of it that gets under my skin and drives me crazy in all the best ways.”

I sink into her, kissing her long and hard. The fucking damage is already done. I’ll feel guilty tomorrow.

“One thing, though,” she says, pulling her mouth off mine to leave a trail of kisses across my cheek. “I know you have work tomorrow, and probably want to get to sleep, but I’m kind of hungry. Can we get some ice cream downstairs and then do it again before bed?”

I drop my head into her shoulder, shaking with laughter.

Anything you want, baby.





I roll my neck under the hot spray, every muscle in my body tight and sore. I don’t really exercise, but I’m hardly ever sitting on my ass, so I thought I was in good shape. She shot that idea to shit last night, though. I can’t help but indulge in the fantasy of having her here every day, as many times a day as I want, just for the sake of my muscular health, of course.

But I know I can’t. We did it again last night and then crashed, and as much as I want her even more this morning, now that I know what I’ve been missing, we can’t let this become normal. It’ll be painful enough when it ends.

I shut off the water and step out of the shower, pulling my towel off the hook and drying my hair. The bathroom is dark, because I wanted to delude myself that nighttime still wasn’t over, but it’s just after five in the morning, and I have to be at work in an hour. When I see her again, it’ll be in the bright light of day, and I’ll have to face how I did something so fucking shitty last night.

I finish drying off and wrap the towel around my waist before walking to the sink and brushing my teeth. And trying not to think about the hot, young woman still asleep in my bed in the other room.

I mean, how wrong is what we’re doing? She’s single, I’m single. We’re both adults. Yeah, there’s the age difference, but it’s not unheard of.

And I fucking liked her before I knew who she was. No one else was a factor in that. We’re not trying to hurt anyone.

Stepping back into the bedroom, I look over at her in the bed. Asleep on her stomach, hugging one of my pillows under her head, and her hair fanned out behind her. She wears one of my T-shirts, and although I love her naked, I can’t complain. I love her in my clothes, too.

Walking over to her side of the bed, I pick up my watch off the bedside table—the one not toppled over on the other side—and fasten it to my wrist as I stare down at her.