Page 37 of Emily: Hello Kitten

I feel good when he touches me.

I feel alive and right and… fuck, why isn’t he here right now?

Why can’t I fucking breathe!

Rather than dealing with the zipper, I wrestle out of my dress, fling it down on the bed, then take the hottest shower I can manage. I just need to scrub everything off me. Adrian gets one more night and the morning.

We’ll have an awkward drive back to his place. I’ll drop him off. He’ll walk inside without looking back.

It will sting.

I’ll mope around.

I’ll hate seeing him in class, but I’ll work hard.

I’ll focus on my studies to get over him.

I’ll move on after a month.

It will hurt when he does too since I know what the other woman will get. Then we’ll be strangers.

It’ll be that easy because I don’t care about him. All I care about is the sex. The sex is all that matters.

I’ll memorize our last night together. I’ll refuse to wake up on time in the morning, then pack, say whatever I have to so he never wants to talk to me again.

Adrian will keep his job.

No one will know.

My family will think he was just another fling. Beth won’t find out about this. I’ll laugh about it years from now.

It’s all fine.

eighteen

After all my talk, I still end up lying naked in bed, staring at my vibrator. I’ve clearly gotten too used to someone doing the work for me if the thought of using it turns me off instead of turning me on. I start to believe I might have a problem, and it’s not Adrian, but he did cause it.

With his plays, his touches, I can’t get enough now. I want to drown in that high of letting it all go.

Just as I’m about to reach for it anyway, the door opens, then clicks shut. I hate the silence. My eyes focus in the dim light as Adrian takes off his shoes, then goes for his tie.

“You certainly know how to ruin a party, Emily.”

“Bridesmaid is eager for you,” I murmur. “I didn’t make you come back.”

“I wore this tie specifically to tie you up with, so don’t waste your bedroom eyes on a vibrator,” he snaps.

“One last fuck?” I guess, squirming deeper under the covers.

“One lastnight. We both know I don’t stop at one round with you. There are things we haven’t tried, things we haven’t done, and since you’ve pissed me off, you’re getting on your knees to show me you still want me.”

“I’m pretty comfortable here,” I argue.

He pauses, then finishes taking off his shirt. His eyes never leave me. “Are you?’

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me?”

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