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“I could get off just watching this,” he whispered.

I could get off to you watching this.

I spread the lube inside and outside again, and I braced my hands on the sink. I gasped when I felt Matt’s fingers between my legs.

“So wet,” he murmured. “You love to do this for me. You love to do it for yourself.”

He reached for the lube, his forearm moving on the periphery of my vision.

The little opening of the bottle pressed against my anus.

“I think you need more inside,” Matt said. His tone was mocking. He squeezed the bottle and a thick strip of lubricant squirted into my bottom. I jerked. It was cold and felt so strange, and so … “Good,” I moaned.

Matt’s hand hit my ass with a slap. I yelped.

“That was for speaking. Now, Hannah, nod if you’re ready.”

I gave a little nod. God, was I ever ready.

He spread my cheeks and poised his head at my entrance. I inhaled and exhaled deep from my belly, bending forward and controlling my breath the way I did in yoga. My body relaxed by degrees. The aromatic bathwater and steamy, low-lit bathroom helped.

“Hannah, f*ck…”

Oh, and hearing Matt’s pleasure helped too. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand drifted between my legs and began circling my sex. I pushed back to meet his pressure. When his head popped into me, I groaned. More. I wanted to say it, but Matt wouldn’t rush. He would scold me; he would say it’s dangerous to rush. He might stop altogether.

As the minutes passed, Matt worked his thick cock in and out of my backside, tiny thrusts taking him gradually deeper. I fingered myself and teased my clit. Soon our moans were echoing around the bathroom.

When Matt noticed my hands working my sex, he went crazy.

“God, Hannah,” he snarled, “already playing with yourself? Tell me … tell me you’re my slut. Say it. Fuck, if you could see my dick in your ass…”

His member throbbed inside of me, the girth spreading me wide. It didn’t hurt. It shouldn’t hurt, Matt told me once, and if it does, we’ll never do it.

I snuck a glance at Matt in the mirror. His head was lowered—eyes on my ass—face awash with pleasure. “I’m your slut,” I whispered. The word came easily. Slut. Just for Matt. “Only yours, Matt. Only for you.”

“My God. Fuck.” He thrust into me and paused. I moaned to put him at ease, and he thrust again—and then again. The feel of him back there, in there, made me shake. “Watch … watch us.” He turned me carefully and I grasped the towel bar. One hand lingered between my legs, teasing my clit. I was close, too close. If I wanted to come with Matt, I needed to slow down.

“Look,” he growled.

In the mirror, I saw our bodies in profile. Matt’s cock moved easily in and out of me. I looked … far gone. Eyes glazed, lips parted, features slack. Matt looked no better.

“Your ass, Hannah … it’s so f*cking good. So tight, God…”

He f*cked me harder, faster, and his moans grew ragged. When he began to curse and tremble, insisting that he loved my tight ass and telling me how he needed to come in it, I pushed myself over the edge with him. I watched him the whole time. For once, I got to see his unadulterated pleasure—the way he fought it, and then gasped and arched and buried his cock in me. He squeezed my ass as he came and leaned over me.

I came with him, my spikes of pleasure peaking in a pulse of bliss.

I moaned his name shamelessly.

Afterward, Matt wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled my back flush with his chest. “How’s that,” he panted, his breath beating against my ear, “for a good-bye.”

He put me in the tub. The warm lavender-colored water lapped at me. It smelled of blackberries and shimmered on my skin.

“I’ll see you on Friday, won’t I?” Matt said.

“Friday.” I smiled at him and resisted the urge to wave. Even the accoutrements of good-bye seemed to bother him. I figured that had something to do with the loss of his parents, but I never asked. I hated saying good-bye to Matt, too, and the reasons didn’t matter.

He closed the door and I listened to him moving through the condo.

After a while, I heard his voice. Calling the cab. Silence, then the condo door shutting.

I waited a moment in the water, and then I stepped out carefully and wrapped myself in Matt’s bathrobe. I grinned as I crept through the condo. It would serve me right if he reappeared, but I wanted to watch him go.

I peeked through the blinds at the front of the condo. Huh. No taxi. Poor paranoid Matt, he probably told the guy to meet him out back.

I went to the bedroom and looked down from the window. What the …

Matt, wearing his coat but no sunglasses or hat, strolled up the alley toward a bright blue Corolla. He waved at the driver. The driver-side door popped open and a tiny redhead appeared. She gestured toward the back of the car and laughed. Matt laughed.

Who…? What?

Panic and all the worst possibilities hit me. Matt has another lover. Matt met someone near the cabin. She knows who Matt is—or worse, she doesn’t. Matt can be truly anonymous with her. She’ll run away with him like I won’t. He’s leaving me.

How’s that for a good-bye?

I dashed through the condo and down the complex stairs. I rushed barefoot out of the building. The cold stung at my damp skin.