Secret Desires (Roughshod Rollers MC 4)

Then he guides me down. His thick cock penetrates me, sliding inch by inch into my body, and I pant as I push down slowly. Finally, he’s fully seated in me and we’re trying to catch our breaths. It’s overwhelming and I have to push my orgasm down before it can burst out of me prematurely, overwrought with just the idea that Ethan is inside me.

“Move when you’re ready,” Ethan says, his hips twitching as though he wants to thrust up.

I take a deep breath. Then I raise myself up and thrust my hips back down, spearing myself on his cock once more. His hips snap up to meet mine, his dick straining against the walls inside me. We settle into a rhythm quickly, and I bounce on his lap, taking him in deeper and deeper, the world narrowed to the way that we’re connected so intimately.

Then Ethan changes the angle of his thrust and my vision goes white as he hits a spot that makes pleasure wrack my body. I choke on the force of the sensation and I falter for a second. Ethan’s hands grip my hips and he begins guiding my body up and down, hitting that spot each time he thrusts until I’m a limp mess following the urging of his hands.

“Fuck, oh god, fuck…” I chant, barely aware of what I’m saying.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ethan is gasping, and he thrusts hard up into me. “Fuck, Polly, look at you, this is amazing.”

I barely register that he’s just said his ex-wife’s name. At that moment, my orgasm hits, washing over me like a tidal wave. Ethan shakes beneath me, thrusting twice more before going still, groaning deeply.

Slowly, as my heart stops beating so fast and my trembling hands calm, I push myself off Ethan and collapse backward and look at him. Polly’s name is ringing in my ears but I don’t say anything about it. He doesn’t mention it either, and I’m not even sure if he knows he said it. My heart is cracking but I wearily hold it together as we tiredly move to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed without saying a word.

Later, when I wake up, Ethan is sitting up in bed, facing away from me. I stare at his back, which suddenly feels like an insurmountable wall. I already know what he’s thinking, and I wish I had more time to steel myself against what I know is coming next.

I wish my stupid, hopeful heart had already caught up to what my mind knew.

“Ethan?” I ask; there’s no sense putting it off.

I sit up, wrapping the sheet around myself, and Ethan turns around. He gives me a small smile and my heart breaks at the apology in it.

“Sorry, Georgia,” he says.

“Don’t be,” I say instantly. “It wasn’t just you in this, you know.”

“I know,” Ethan sighs. He pauses. “I love you, you know.”

My heart breaks again. I know exactly how he means that.

“I know,” I say with a nod. “You’re my best friend, Ethan.” I give him a smile, hoping that it doesn’t look as sad as it feels. “I know you don’t love me the way you loved Polly.”

“I feel like I’ve just used you in the worst way possible,” Ethan confesses.

“It’s fine, Ethan,” I say. It isn’t, but I need him to think it is. I can still salvage this and have Ethan in my life. “Last night… It was all just about physical comfort.”

Ethan winces. Part of me is savagely pleased at that, because I’m hurting really badly and I’m hardly a saint.

“Sorry,” he says again.

“Stop apologizing,” I say with a laugh. But the sound is unnatural, so I stop quickly. “Look, we can just forget about it, right? It happened, but we’ve been friends for so long that it doesn’t have to mean anything at all.”

Ethan looks at me with the hope of a drowning man.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I confirm. I wriggle in place and grin at him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need a shower, then we’ll go pick Lily up. We’re going to get through this, Ethan, all of it.”

“Thank you,” Ethan whispers.

I grab a robe off the floor, wrap it around myself, and flee the room. Only when I’m safely in the bathroom do I crouch on the floor and finally dissolve into silent tears. I knew it was coming.

But that didn’t make this any easier.

I start awake from my dream.

It’s still dark outside and I glance at the digital clock beside the bed. The red numbers glow eerily in the room, telling me that it’s five-thirty in the morning. My body feels heavy with tiredness and my eyes are drooping but my head is spinning with too many thoughts to catch.