Page 81 of Pretty Please Me
I don’t know what words I say or if any of it makes sense as I scream my pleasure, bouncing and grinding on Sam’s hard cock. I don’t care if anyone hears or sees us because, at this perfect moment, we’re the only two people in the universe to exist.
Sam’s cock clenches inside of me. “Fuck, baby, I’m coming,” he tells me as we both ride out our orgasms in unison. At this moment, there is no past, there is no future, there is only now.
And right now, I am royally fucked, because I’ve just realized I fucked up and broke rule number one.
I fell in love with Sam.
THIRTY
Sam
I hover the mouse over the submit button for what feels like an eternity before finally mustering the courage. I click the button and close my laptop, breathing a sigh. This is what’s best, and now that it’s done, hundreds, no, thousands of people will be depending on me, so I can’t back out now.
Anxiety bubbles up like acid in my throat. I try to wash it down with my bitter black coffee that has long gone cold. It doesn’t help, just reminds me that every minute that passes brings me closer and closer to the end.
I’m sitting alone in the sunroom in my parents’ house, watching the event crew set up tables and tents for my dad’s retirement party tonight. I should’ve known they’d invite the whole town. I rap my fingers on the wooden chair arm as irritation simmers under my skin. The last thing I want to do on my last night with Maggie is share her with everyone from my hometown. After everything that happened, the way they treated my family, I don’t know if even I’m that good of a bullshitter to fake pleasantries.
But my dad and Charlotte are better people than me. They’ve long moved on from it, forgiven and forgotten. It’s just another blaring reminder that I don’t belong here and never have. I belong in a big city where I can hide the monster inside me in plain sight. Deflect personal questions and spin them into getting others to talk about themselves. People love talking about themselves, especially the rich businessmen I deal with daily. That’s why I’m so good. Being a good listener and never revealing any personal information is my secret weapon to being a successful businessman.
I had the perfect formula figured out. I was happy enough. At least I thought I was. Sex was easy. Work was easy. Everything was simple, laid out in black and white. My life was boiled down to the most basic process, and I could control the outcome with ninety-nine percent certainty. It was easy, exactly the way I liked it.
Not anymore.
If I wasn’t already falling for Maggie, she hammered the nail in the coffin last night and sealed my fate. Watching her come alive singing on stage, the pure, magical confidence radiating off her felt like an angelic light that healed everything it touched.
It almost hurt to look at her, to be near her, to touch her. Like submerging yourself in ice water and immediately getting into a boiling hot bath.
Last night as I laid on the beach and she rode me within an inch of my undoing, I got so caught up in the moment that I almost slipped up and told her I loved her.
I sit up and prop my elbows on my knees, rubbing my temples as the dull headache pounds behind my eyes.
Fuck, I’m in over my head. I knew I was catching feelings, but I tried to convince myself it was because I cared so much about her, because she was my friend. I’ve always known she was special, but being intimate with her, getting to know what makes her tick, and learning about her past, my feelings snowballed so fast. I didn’t even see it coming. Or maybe I didn’t want to.
Maybe a small part of me wanted to see how bad it could get, how much pain I could cause myself. That’s what I deserve, and like the selfish bastard I am, I’m happy I got to experience so much joy, even if it was stolen.
I just hope I don’t hurt her in the process because that’s the kind of pain I don’t know if I can bear.
Releasing a sigh, I twirl my coffee mug between my fingers as I watch the crew below build the platform for the stage. Charlotte directs another crew about where to set up the tables. It won’t be long now before the sun sets, bringing our last day to an end and turning that all into a memory, a painful splinter in my heart that will never heal.
Guilt gets the best of me when the crew struggles to move a large piece of the stage, and I sigh as I get up. I may be a piece of shit regarding relationships, but I can’t sit by and watch when there’s work to be done and not enough muscle to do it. Besides, my muscles could use a little physical exertion to get some of this frustration out of my system.
I place my coffee cup in the dishwasher before running outside to help with the grunt work. Anything to take my mind off of my reality, just for a little while.
* * *
I tighten the fabric of my bow tie and run my fingers through my styled wavy hair. I’m getting ready in the guest bathroom upstairs since Wren kicked me out of the room Maggie and I are staying in. She insisted that she do Maggie’s hair and makeup, and they’ve been locked away in there just about all day.
I make my way down the stairs and knock on the bedroom door. “Hey, Mags, you about ready?”
The door cracks open just wide enough for Wren’s face. “She’s almost ready. Why don’t you just go down, and I’ll send her when I’m finished?” Her tone is mostly friendly, but it doesn’t match the look on her face. My brother’s wife is a feisty thing, and if I had to guess, I’m not the first person to rush her process.
I hold up my hands. “Take your time. There’s no rush on my end.” The last thing this party needs is an angry pregnant woman who’s bound to explode at any minute. “I’ll be just outside. Call me if you need anything.”
She doesn’t respond, just slams the door in my face. “And on that note, I think I’ll make myself a drink.”
I walk over to the bar cart and begin making myself a Sazerac when I hear footsteps approach behind me.
“Make it two, will you?” Simon says as he comes to stand beside me.
