Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(27)

My Lily was kind and caring and considerate. She was gentle and sincere. Suddenly, my mind was plagued by the Lily I had known: how her hand fit perfectly in mine. How my arms felt at home when they wrapped around her. How her lips melded to mine in a blissful frenzy whenever we were together.

I thought back to the last time I had been with her—how perfect she’d felt when I pushed inside of her. How her soft moans had made me harder than I had ever been in my life. And when her orgasm ripped through her, her * had clenched down on my pulsating cock, milking the cum from it in long, bursting squirts. But as great as that had been, it hadn’t been enough. I’d needed to have her again, but that time, I took her mouth. The thought of that warmth enveloping my hard cock caused my entire body to tingle.

And as I remembered the feel of her tongue swirling over my tip and drinking me dry, I couldn’t stop my dick from hardening at the thought. Involuntarily, my hand drifted under the covers, grabbed tightly and tugged with long, hard strokes. As I continued to work myself, I let my mind wander. To think about how, after she had sated me with that delicious mouth, I had wanted to return the favor. To show her that our relationship was about give and take. I gripped my shaft harder, pulling faster as my mind replayed the images of my fingers having their way with her body, thrusting inside of her until she came all over them. I remembered telling her we needed to go on a vacation so that I could touch her for an entire weekend without interruption. It was that memory that caused my orgasm to come barreling down my spine. That image—of touching her like she belonged to me—that caused me to finally explode, catching the hot bursts of semen in my hand.

It was in that moment that I knew the truth. She couldn’t have faked that passion. She couldn’t have feigned the physical reaction she had to me. Holy f*ck. She had loved me.

***

I woke up the next morning feeling lighter than I had in months. My relationship with Lily hadn’t all been bullshit. We had felt very real things during our time together—things that had stuck with me throughout the last however many months, no matter how much I tried to deny their existence. The only question I was left with was just how much of our relationship had been bullshit. And as I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and ran a hand through my rumpled hair, I decided it was time to find out.

***

I sat at my computer screen, my email open, and the cursor blinking. This had seemed like such a great idea three hours ago. But now that I was faced with the task of following through with my plan, it seemed less appealing.

Already having drafted and deleted five emails to Lily, I was beginning to get frustrated. I was supposed to be reviewing our budget for our current project, but I couldn’t focus on numbers right now. Well, there was one number I was able to focus on, but I had sworn to myself that I wasn’t going to use it. I had barely been able to hold a conversation with her when I had a clear purpose for doing so. There was no way I’d be able to sustain idle chitchat. So I had opted for an email instead. But there was so much to consider. Did I try and be funny? Did I immediately get to the heart of the matter? Did I ask some random, mundane question about the school? I grew more and more frantic as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, with my new motto of “Fuck it” ringing in my head, I began typing again. This time, I just let my fingers do the talking and hoped for the best. Once finished, I previewed what I had written.



Hi Lily,



It’s Adam. I just wanted to say that it was good seeing you yesterday. And, in the spirit of paying it forward (or in this case, paying it back), I wanted to get you a cup of coffee as well. So here ya go. One caramel macchiato. Enjoy.



I inwardly groaned at the hokiness of putting a virtual macchiato in an email, but I clearly couldn't get past this pansy behavior. I quickly hit send before I had a chance to contemplate it any longer. And as soon as my email went cruising through cyberspace, on its way to the one person who could possibly hold the key to my sustained happiness, I regretted including the picture. I probably didn't need to start off with "It's Adam" either since the sender would be automatically listed. Fucking *.

But whatever. What was done was done, and now the ball was in her court. She’d either write back or she wouldn’t. No need to obsess over it. Nothing more I could do now. Might as well get to work. Staring at my monitor wasn’t going to help the situation. I was just going to clear my mind of all things Lily and . . . holy shit, was that a ping? I catapulted myself closer to my monitor as I vice-gripped my mouse. There it was. An email from Hamilton, Lily. I couldn’t help but feel relieved at the swiftness of her response. I allowed my eyes to drift down to the body of her email and took a deep breath.



Hey Adam,



It was great to see you too.



“Great!” She’d written “great.” That had to be a good sign.



Though I’m thinking it’s less great since you sent me a picture of the thing that I need most in the world right now. I’m jonesing in the worst way. So, I’m sorry to say that I will not be enjoying your poor excuse for “paying it back.” Better luck next time.



P.S. Shouldn’t you be working? :)

By the time I realized just how broadly I was grinning, it was too late. I was too far gone and already typing my reply. It was frightening how insanely happy I was that she had joked with me like she would have done seven months ago. Filled with certainty that this wasn’t all a huge mistake and that I owed us both a second chance, I again gazed over my reply before hitting send.