Page 15 of Before You Go

“What else do you have in there?”

“Just the necessities.” I hold open the zipper and shuffle through the contents as we walk. “My keys, mace, treats, hand sanitizer, a couple of dollars, my phone, lip gloss. Oh! And a candy bar.” I pull it out with a smile. “I forgot I bought this the other day.” I listen to him laugh softly as we head out of the park and start down the block back toward our building.

When the door to my apartment comes into view, I start to feel sick from the butterflies that are beginning to fill my stomach at a rapid pace. It’s been a long time since I’ve been curious about a man and even longer since I’ve been attracted to one, so I’m a ball of nerves as I unlock my apartment door and unhook PJ from his leash so he can go inside.

“Do you want to come in?” I tip my head back to look up at him, and his gaze roams over my face.

“I’m not sure that’d be smart, Franny.” He reaches his hand up between us, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I think you know that I’m attracted to you.” His expression gentles and fills with what looks a lot like disappointment. “But I can’t offer you anything more than a couple of orgasms, and you deserve more than that.”

His unashamed honesty must spark my own.

“I’m not looking for a relationship.” The truth tumbles out of my mouth before I have a chance to overthink it or be embarrassed. “I don’t even know who I am. I was married for five years and with that same man for years before that. During that time, I gave up a lot of myself. Right now, I’m just trying to figure out how I want my life to look and… what makes me happy,” I whisper the last part when I realize that I’m making a fool of myself.

No, I’m not throwing myself at him, but I know it must sound like I’m trying to convince him that I’d be okay with the couple of orgasms he mentioned.

“Sorry.” I drop my eyes from his. “Thanks for walking with me and PJ. Hopefully, I’ll see you around sometime.” I start to turn to go inside, but his hand shoots out, grabbing mine stopping me.

“Wait.”

“Yeah?” My heart starts to pound as his eyes drop to my mouth.

“Fuck it.” He wraps his hand around my jaw and covers my mouth with his. The kiss is so unexpected I fall against him, my fists landing on his chest as my belly flips.

His lips are warm and firm, and his body is hard as he grasps my hip and pulls me closer. Sliding my hands outward, I dig my fingers into his bicep and hold on as he slants his head, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue across mine. The world outside of his mouth and his hands disappear, and I let go of whoever I thought I was before this moment and become someone I don’t recognize.

She’s free, adventurous, and not worried about anything or anyone but herself.

When his hand moves under the edge of my sweatshirt and his fingers stroke the side of my breast, I moan against his tongue and feel his chest vibrate with a growl that shoots right between my legs. In all my years, I’ve never experienced anything like it, and I press closer, wanting more—more of his taste, more of his touch, more of anything he’s willing to give me.

Walking me backward into my apartment, he presses me up against the wall next to the door he kicks closed. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there is a little voice telling me to slow down, that this is happening too fast, but I ignore it.

Instead, I tug his shirt from his pants, slide my hands up the smooth, hard skin of his back, then move them to his abs and down to the buckle of his belt. As I fumble to get it undone, he unzips my hoodie and pushes it off my shoulders.

“You should tell me to leave.” He wraps his hand around my throat as his eyes wander over my exposed skin.

I swallow against his palm. I’ve never had a man look at me the way he is. It’s dark and so hungry it sends a thrill up my spine. “What if that’s not what I want?”

“What do you want?” His gaze locks on mine.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, my chest heaving with each desperate breath I attempt to take.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” There is an edge to the question that makes it feel dirty, maybe even wrong. But before I can understand why, I’m distracted by his mouth, taking mine in a searing kiss while he uses his free hand to yank my dress up around my waist. When he lifts me off my feet I lean back into the wall. Cool air brushes against my upper thighs, then the heat of his hand chases it away. There is no gentleness in his touch as his fingers dive between my legs, sliding the material covering me aside.

“Jesus, Franny,” he hisses against my mouth, his fingers sinking inside me. “You’re soaking wet.”

I whimper in response.

Never in my life have I had an orgasm that I didn’t have to work hard for, but the moment his thumb circles my clit with his fingers still inside me, heat pools in my lower belly, and my legs start to shake. I fight it, fight the urge to come, because I want more. I want him inside me.

Sliding my hand down the front of his pants, I wrap my fist around him and pull him free.

“Fuck,” he grunts, moving his mouth to my ear, dragging my earlobe between his teeth.

Then, before I have a moment to prepare, he’s sliding inside me. He’s so thick and long it hurts as he fills me.

But it’s the most beautiful pain I have ever felt in my life.

Back arching, I cry out as he fucks me with abandon, pulling me down onto him hard, each thrust going deeper than the last. It’s messy and raw, and everything I didn’t know I was missing.

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