I declined the invitation from several of the players to go out. Alex and Garrett weren’t going, opting instead to go home with their honeys, and frankly, I started obsessing about Kate being at home…in her bed…possibly in that little tank top and boy shorts…until I couldn’t think about anything but getting to my house and climbing the staircase to her room.

And as I stand here now in the kitchen, lightly flipping a foil-wrapped condom through my fingers, I list all the pros and cons in my head of what I’m considering doing at this very moment.

If I walk up those stairs and into Kate’s bedroom, it is guaranteed that I’m going to have some mind-blowing sex. That means opening myself up to feeling and, most important, being able to abandon for a blessed moment the guilt and grayness of my life.

All great things.

The cons if I walk up those stairs and crawl into Kate’s bed are daunting. I could potentially be fucking with Kate’s head as well as her body, because this is just sex for me. I can’t let it be anything else, and I’m sorry, but most women just can’t do that. I know for a fact Kate has too much heart to ever settle for just that.

I could be fucking with my own head. If buying a box of condoms made me feel like I was betraying Gina, what would fucking Kate do? Could it push me further into my darkness? What if I get so fucked in the head that it affects Ben?

And worst of all…although it is practically impossible…what if I start to feel something for Kate in return? Getting into a relationship with someone terrifies me. I was such a miserable failure to Gina when I look back on everything, how could I possibly put someone else at risk for that?

The list of cons greatly overshadows the pros.

I should dump the condom in the garbage and head to bed. I should leave Kate alone and simply jack off to the fantasy of what could be if I went to her. I certainly didn’t have a problem doing that last night when I took a shower. But I didn’t fantasize about what could be, but rather just remembered the absolutely perfect hand job Kate gave me the other day. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. I don’t ever remember coming as hard as I did that day.

Fuck it.

Fuck the consequences. Fuck the cons.

More important, I’m going upstairs to fuck Kate right now.


Taking a deep breath, I twist the doorknob and slowly push inward. I had peeked in on Ben first, and he was deep asleep.

Soft light from her bedside lamp hits me and I steel myself to meet Kate’s questioning gaze. Except she’s not awake. She’s sleeping with a book across her chest and her glasses still on, her covers pulled up just under her breasts. One delicate hand rests on top of the book, the other stretched on the pillow above her head.

For a split second I think about just backing out of her room. Leaving her alone. Leaving behind the opportunity to feel again.

But I’m going to be a selfish fuck instead, so I step inside, close the door softly, and flick the lock. I doubt Ben will wake up, but I don’t want to take the chance he could walk in on us.

Silently I stalk to the side of Kate’s bed and gently lower my hip to the edge. She stirs slightly, but settles again. Her hair is fanned out underneath her and I can smell a hint of apples, I’m assuming from her shampoo. It suits her well.

I take the book from her, sliding it out from under her hand. Then I remove her glasses, causing her to wrinkle her nose slightly in her sleep. I place them both on the table by her bed and take a moment to stare at her…to best consider how this needs to be done.

I don’t know if I’m welcome here. I’ve avoided Kate for two days, and she could be mad at me for all I know. Not going to stop me from trying, though.

Leaning forward, I balance myself on one hand by her hip and bring my lips to hers. I kiss her softly…sliding my lips back and forth along hers until she starts to move underneath me.

“Zack?” I hear in a sleepy voice.

Pulling back, I see Kate looking warily at me through heavy lids.

“Tell me to stop,” I warn her, just as I did the other day.

“Why now?” she asks in a small voice.

“Because I thought I could stay away,” I tell her honestly, bringing my fingers up to skim along the skin of her chest. She’s wearing that white tank top again, and I’m dying to know what’s beneath the covers. “I should stay away, but apparently I can’t.”

She doesn’t say a word, but her breath hitches a little as I move my hand down and grasp the edge of the blanket. “Tell me to stop,” I say again.

Kate doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then I hear, so very softly, “Apparently I can’t either.”

Triumph burns bright within me and I drag the covers down her body as I stand up from the bed. And fuck yeah…those tiny little sleep shorts are hugging her tightly.

I grab the bottoms of her legs and swing them toward me and off the bed. When they’re clear, my hands go to her ribs and I pick her up, turn her fully perpendicular, and push her back onto the mattress. She gives a gasp of surprise and her eyes grow heated.

One step forward and I lean over the bed, taking the bottom of her tank top in hand and pulling it off of her. Her breasts pop free and my mouth immediately waters. I place my hands on either side of her and dip my head down, enclosing my mouth over one of her nipples. Her back arches beautifully and she gives a husky cry.

I suck on her hard and release her, looking up and making a hushing sound. “We don’t want to wake Ben. Also…I don’t want to have to gag you,” I tell her with a grin.




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