Her pussy tightens, and I feel her come around my cock, clenching and sucking me further into her body. When her quivers cease, I start thrusting into her, hard and slow. I feel her teeth nip at my neck, and I growl. “Fuck,” I groan out. “So good.”

Cassey moves her leg and wraps it around my waist, her feet resting on my hips. The change in position allows me to penetrate deeper with every stroke until I feel my own orgasm building. Cassey pushes her hips up, and that’s all it takes. I still, holding her tight, and ride out the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know how long we lie there, Cassey’s hands drawing lazy circles on my back, but when I look into her eyes, something new comes to the surface. It must reflect the look in my eyes, because I know Cassey can feel the change too. I kiss her one last time, and then climb out of bed to discard of the condom.

When I fall into bed again, exhausted and completely satiated, Cassey rolls over and curls into my side. I try to shake the heavy feeling in my gutt, but yet, one thought still weighs on my mind: Why did that feel like a ‘goodbye’?

Chapter 10

~Cassey ~

I wipe my brow and flop onto the edge of my bare bed. That’s the last of my belongings, and now I can finally settle in. I moved in two days ago and, much to Kyler’s insistence, took the two days off work. He was adamant and I was still coming down from an explosive orgasm when he brought the topic up early on Sunday morning. Sadly, I haven’t seen him since then, and as much as I’d like to think it’s because we’re both busy, I have a sinking feeling in my belly that he’s avoiding me. Something between us is different, but how different could they really be after just a week? Feelings don’t develop that quickly, surely? Either way, I’ve thrown myself into getting settled and painting my new apartment.

I chose sumptuous colors throughout, and used reds, gold and rich tones of cream to create a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The dining room is painted red with dark wood finishes that came with the apartment. The main bedroom and guest bedroom are both painted with rich creamy colors and offset with bolder colors in the main bedroom and cooler colors in the guest bedroom. The living room has light gold walls with rugs and cushions in metallic red and bronze that stand out against the dark brown leather couches. The kitchen is also very impressive, boasting granite countertops, wooden cupboards with smooth, glossy surfaces, and stainless steel kitchen appliances. Both the en suite and guest bathrooms have slate tiles on the floor which extends halfway up the wall and in the center of the en suite bathroom is a large, free-standing jetted bathtub with chrome finishes that match that of the sink. The guest bathroom has a spacious shower, also with matching chrome finishes. In its entirety, my new home looks opulent with an understated sense of luxury and functionality, and it’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived. And there’s no way I can afford the rent here, had it not been for whatever strings Kyler pulled to get me this place.

I check my phone, probably for the umpteenth time, and sigh when I find no texts or missed calls from Kyler. Doubt prickles my mind, and the heavy feeling I had not too long ago returns. Ignoring it, I decide to take a long, relaxing bath, and pour myself a glass of red wine. The sun sets and the city lights flicker to life as a new kind of energy surges through the streets. I smile, sinking into the too-hot water, feeling the tension seep out of my muscles, and close my eyes. The quietness cloaks me in, leaving me with a sense of contentment that is unfamiliar to me. I bask in it, savor it, because moments like this are far and few between.

I spend the remainder of the week catching up missed work and following up with the team helping me implement the Digital Publishing strategy. It has required late nights; nights without Kyler, and the weekend couldn’t have come sooner. I curl up in bed and hug my knees to my aching body, thankful that it’s Friday. My head feels like it’s going to explode, along with my ovaries. Not only do I have the misfortune of horrendous cramps, but migraines are part of the package, too.

My stomach rolls, and I barely make it to the toilet before the meager contents of my stomach ends up in the toilet bowl along with the pain killers I tried to take. When my stomach is empty, I rest my head on the toilet bowl, too tired to grab a washcloth and wipe my sweaty face. I hear a knock at the door but don’t have the strength to answer. A second knock comes, louder this time, followed by a voice yelling my name. Is that Kyler?

God, I hope not!

I don’t want him seeing me like this - baggy t-shirt, lime green sleep shorts, and a sweaty face. Not sexy.

He yells my name again and I stay rooted on the spot. If he wants to get in, he’ll have to break the door down, but I’m hoping he’ll think I’m not home and just leave.

I hear a loud smack, and then a hard thud. Heavy footsteps echo on the hardwood floors, making their way down the hallway and into my bedroom “Cassey?”

I lift my head at the sound of Kyler’s voice and look up just as he reaches my bathroom door.

“Shit,” he says, rushing to my side. “Are you okay?”

The genuine concern on his face surprises me. But what surprises me even more is that I like that he’s concerned.

I shouldn’t, because we’re just friends-with-benefits. Aren’t we? “I’m fine,” I croak out. My throat is sore and raw. “What are you doing here?” “Well,” he sighs. “You called in sick and I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why?” He’s been avoiding me, that much was obvious, so I don’t understand his sudden need to check on me.

“Because I was worried,” he repeats, like it should be an easy concept for me to grasp. He touches my face and frowns. “You have a fever.”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to stay, Kyler.”

“Too bad, Cass. I’m not going anywhere, so be a bitch all you want, but I’m not leaving you like this.”

I scoff. “I’m not being a bitch. I just don’t understand why you’re here, after…”

“After what?” His eyebrows dip in confusion, and I wish I kept my mouth shut. When I don’t respond, Kyler dips my chin up, and presses, “After what?” “After you avoided me for three days.”

Kyler shakes his head, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. “I can’t avoid you even if I wanted to, Cass. You’re everywhere.” His voice is soft and gentle, as if he almost doesn’t want me to know what he’s saying. Our eyes are locked on each other, and I know he can see the confusion on my face, in my eyes. But I’m not naive. I know better than to get my hopes up, so I don’t. I slide down the side of my bathtub, and Kyler stands. He wets a washcloth and bends down next to me. He wipes my forehead and I avoid his gaze. I don’t want him to be worried, because that means he cares, and I’m almost certain that blurs some kind of line between us.

Without a word, Kyler slips his hands beneath my legs and around my back and he lifts me off the floor. I moan, dropping my head onto his chest. My head starts throbbing, and the rest of my body aches. Kyler lays me down, and I wince.

“Where does it hurt?” he asks gently.

I pat my stomach, and Kyler nods. “Get comfortable, I’ll be right back.” I slide further down into my bed, and watch him leave. A little while goes by, and Kyler returns with a bowl in his hand. He slips off his shoes, and I notice how good he looks. His dark suit pants fit his legs so snug, and his navy blue button up shirt does crazy things for his abs and his chest.




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