Rewriting History

“Now, I have something for you, birthday girl.” She smiles and hands me a delicately wrapped present and a card.

Laughing, I tear into the present first. Gifts from your parents are probably the only time when it’s forgivable not to open the card first. Mom watches as I unveil a small jewelry box. Lifting the lid, I gasp as I see the diamond teardrop pendant sitting atop of a plush velvet cushion. It’s gorgeous.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” I gasp, lifting it onto the palm of my hand. I marvel as the light catches the many sides to the stone. It glistens as it twirls gently on the chain.

“Here, I’ll help. Happy birthday, honey.”

I lift my hair as she clasps the chain around my neck. It sits perfectly. I turn and wrap my arms around her. I open the card and smile at her words. One thing I never need to doubt is how much she and Dad love me.

“I love it, Mom. I love you.”

“What time are you meeting your new friend tonight?” she asks suddenly.

I glance at my watch and realize I’m running late. I kiss Mom on the cheek. “Gotta run,” I say and race upstairs, slamming my door shut.

I’ve got just enough time to take a shower, shave, and get dressed. I decide on a little black number with ballet flats, barely any makeup, and my hair in wrapped into a soft bun on the top of my head. I love this ballerina look—casual yet sexy with a sprinkle of cute.

I drive to Eli’s and manage to score a parking spot right out the front. It’s a nice change from having to drive around, looking for somewhere to park. I like his place. It’s a nice area with lots of billowing trees and off the main road, so it’s quiet.

My stomach is fluttering with nervousness as I walk up the stairs to his apartment and knock on the door.

“Hey.” He smiles, opening the door. My heart races at the sight of him. He’s changed out of his work clothes. I smile at how he looks in the fitted jeans he’s wearing, along with a button-down shirt.

I step inside, letting him pull me against him, his lips pressing against mine. God, I’ve missed this. His fingers caress my face as our tongues clash. I just cannot get enough of him.

Classical music is playing faintly in the background, and the smell of something delicious is wafting through the air. We break apart and I walk further inside the living room, his gaze not leaving me. He’s standing there with his arms crossed and leaning against the wall, where he’s been since I arrived. I love it when he watches me. There’s something so damn sexy about seeing the want in someone’s eyes as they follow you, undressing you.

A shiver races down my spine. I wish he’d undress me with more than that.

“You look good,” he says in a husky voice.

“So do you,” I smirk, biting my lip, trying to tame the butterflies going crazy in my stomach. Why am I so nervous?

“Come here,” he murmurs.

He pushes himself off the wall and moves toward me, his arms moving around my waist. He slips off my jacket, abandoning it on the floor. Slowly stepping backwards, my ass hits the dining table behind me, halting me. I groan as he pushes me harder against the table. He’s hard. I can feel his cock pressing into my hip, and it’s turning me on to no end.

His eyes don’t stray from mine as his hands grip my thighs. He lifts me up onto the table, nudging my legs apart as he stands between them.

My body is crazy. I’m horny as fuck, and all I can think about is him being inside me. I grab the bottom of his shirt and motion for him to take it off while I work on unbuttoning his jeans. He stops my hand from undoing the zipper when he lowers himself to his knees and pulls my dress over my hips.

Leaning back on the table to rest on my elbows, a whimper escapes me as his lips brush along my material-restricted entrance. I’m so wet, and the feel of him touching me there is making me wetter. I groan loudly and buck as he pulls the fabric of my lacy thong aside, his tongue thrusting inside me.

Jesus, his tongue is magic.

“Fuck, Jill, you’re intoxicating,” he says, panting heavily.

I can feel my orgasm isn’t far off and I pull on his hair, gripping it in my fists.

“Eli, please. I need you,” I gasp.

He stands and runs the back of his hand across his mouth. He brings his lips to mine for a chaste kiss, and I can taste myself on him—it’s so sexy. Letting his pants fall to the ground, he thrusts into me suddenly. My walls start to contract around him but I’m trying to hold off as long as I can.

We’re both watching his slick cock pump me and it’s spurring us on further.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer,” he groans.

My arms collapse and I fall back on the table as he holds my thighs and thrusts deeper inside me. I cry out as my body releases, climaxing so hard that my back arches off the table.