Page 63 of The Bridges I've Burned

So, maybe I could take up reading? I made a mental note to go check out the stack of books Macon had in the living room.

What else?

Fishing? One of Macon’s old classmates owned a company that took tourists out on boat tours.

I scrunched my nose at the mere thought of touching a fish.

Nope.

Suddenly, my mind pivoted back to Zander.

Guitar lessons?

My mind conjured up an image of his large frame curled around me as he helped place my fingers on the right strings. His lips nearly brushed my ear as he praised my efforts…

I shivered, and goosebumps dotted my flesh.

My eyes closed as my thoughts drifted back to our brief time together. I wondered where he was right now. Had he made it to the airport? Was he already on his way back to LA?

Has he thought of me?

I’d been furious to find out he left this morning. He knew what it would do to Macon, and yet he’d done it anyway. But more than that, I was upset because he’d left me, too.

I’d felt something for him. I wasn’t sure what it was, but when he’d come into my room and held me while I cried, I thought he’d maybe felt it, too.

A connection. A spark.

But then he’d left without so much as a, Good-bye. Hope you have a nice life.

So, now, all I had were a few fleeting memories of him and maybe a little regret. What if I hadn’t run out that night in the bar? Sure, things would have gotten complicated the morning after, but would it have been worth it? To spend one night with him regardless of how things turned out in the end?

I knew without a doubt the answer was yes.

He would have taken my hand and led me out of the bar and to his car. My head would have been pounding with anticipation and nervousness. We would have driven down to a secluded spot on the beach, where no one would bother us.

I squeezed my thighs together as my body began to ache from the sheer thought of being alone with him. My nipples hardened, the slightest movement becoming unbearable as they grazed against the terry cloth of my towel. Opening my eyes, I reached for my nightstand and grabbed the one thing that could bring me relief.

Unlike Marin, I did not feel embarrassed when it came to self-pleasure. Although, if I was being honest, I did feel a little guilty when said pleasure involved fantasizing about her brother-in-law.

A new song drifted through the speakers. The sultry guitar mix filled the small space as my mind wandered back to that night.

Or at least the version I was imagining in my head.

Warm sand, hot summer night, scorching need.

I tugged at the towel and let it fall to either side of me on the bed. As my hands began to explore my body, I imagined it was his callous fingers touching my naked skin and palming my breasts. When I turned the vibrator on and used it to tease my clit, I wondered what it would feel like to have his tongue between those slick folds. Just thinking of him had me so wet that when I sank two fingers into my core, I let out a loud moan as I imagined him buried deep inside me.

“Oh God.”

I writhed against my hand, dropping the vibrator on the bed as I began to wantonly grind my hips against my own hand. My heart was hammering in my chest as I chased my release. My back arched off the bed, and as I closed my eyes, I saw us on that beach. A tangled mess of naked limbs as we lost ourselves in each other until the sun came up.

I cried out as I shattered. My body shook as I rode out every last wave of pleasure. It was so intense that I felt like my body had left the earth for a moment.

That never happened.

Usually, my self-induced orgasms were pretty damn good, but nothing compared to the release that came with sex.

If fantasy sex with Zander was that good, I could only imagine…

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