“Oh, God! Yes! Don’t stop!”
Like there was a chance in hell that’d ever happen. Now that I’d gotten inside her, I never wanted to leave. At least not until I had her screaming around me, milking the come from my cock. “You feel so fucking perfect. Like you were made for me.”
I slid my hand around her hip to her ass and lifted her up on my next thrust. She cried out my name and started to tremble, the walls of her pussy clenching around me hard. “Is this pussy mine, Melody?”
“Yes!” she cried out after another thrust of my hips.
“You want me to fill it with my come?”
“Yes, please,” she pleaded.
She splintered on my next drive, her body shuddering as her pussy gripped me tight. I planted myself deep and emptied myself inside her. After coming in her mouth, I shouldn’t have had so much come left over this quickly. But this one felt like a never-ending orgasm as I filled her to overflowing.
When I was finally empty, I collapsed on the mattress next to her. Pulling her soft body against mine, I spooned her with one leg thrown over her thigh. She was already out like a light, and I let myself drift off to sleep with my body wrapped around hers.
I woke up as the sun started to rise in the sky and groaned. I’d barely gotten any sleep, having rolled over and taken Melody several times throughout the night. She welcomed me with open arms each and every time, which made me feel less guilty about my decision not to wait the night before.
A quick glance at her face confirmed she was still passed out. I gently brushed my lips against her cheek and trailed my fingers along her shoulder before ro
lling off the mattress. I padded over to the bathroom and emptied my bladder, then splashed some cold water on my face after I washed my hands.
Melody made a tempting picture, sprawled on her bed with the sheet resting low on her back. Her dark hair was spread across her pillows, her long lashes rested against her cheeks, and her plump lips were slightly parted. With as many times as I took her throughout the night, she needed her sleep.
My stomach gave a quiet rumble, and I shut the door gently behind me before heading to the kitchen. A quick check in her fridge confirmed she didn’t have much in the way of breakfast fixings. Since I knew mine was full, I decided to head over to my apartment to grab a few things so I could make myself a snack now and breakfast in bed for her later. Walking softly back into her room, I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“Hmm. Again?” she mumbled, rolling over without opening her eyes and reaching one hand out to stroke my chest.
My lips tilted up in a satisfied smirk. Even when completely exhausted, she still wanted me. “No, angel face. I just wanted to let you know I was going to run next door to take a quick shower and grab some stuff out of my fridge.”
“Mkay.”
I wasn’t sure she’d actually heard what I said since she wasn’t fully awake. But that was okay since I didn’t expect to be gone long. I didn’t even bother putting on my shoes, opting to walk next door in nothing but my socks, pants, and unbuttoned shirt. As I took off my shirt and tossed it into the laundry basket in my bedroom, my cell phone rang. It was damn early for me to get a call, and my heart raced when I saw the number on the display.
“Mom? Is everything okay?”
“No,” she cried. “It’s your dad, Trace. He’s had a heart attack. I need you to come home as soon as you can.”
I waited for her to calm down and asked for more details. Once she’d shared everything, I assured her I’d be there by this afternoon, even if it meant chartering a flight. After we hung up, I changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Then I checked online for travel options and booked a direct flight that was scheduled to depart in a couple of hours. When that was done, I headed next door to let Melody know what had happened. But when I turned the handle on her door, I realized she’d set it to automatically lock behind her whenever she left her apartment.
“Fuck,” I groaned, thumping my head against the hard surface once before heading back to my apartment. I threw some clothes into a bag and scrawled a quick note to Melody. Before I left for the airport, I shoved it under her door. I thought maybe I heard something inside her apartment for a second, but when I pressed my ear to the door it was as quiet as it’d been when I’d left earlier. For a brief moment, I debated knocking so I could tell her what happened instead, but I decided against it since she’d barely gotten any sleep.
Melody waking up alone was the exact opposite of how I’d wanted our first morning together to go. I’d pictured me feeding her breakfast in bed after another round of sex, followed by us showering together and spending the rest of the day doing…whatever. It didn’t even matter as long as we spent it together. But I couldn’t worry about that now. My parents needed me in Chicago as soon as possible. I had to go now or I ran the risk of missing my flight. I was certain Melody would understand why I’d left without waking her up, and she wouldn’t hold it against me.
Chapter Seven
Melody
“Mmm, I wonder what time it is,” I mumbled, stretching out my hand and patting the mattress next to me. My eyes popped open when I found it empty. “Trace?”
I sat up, and muscles I hadn’t used in too long protested the movement. My memories of how I’d earned those aches were delicious, and I looked forward to a repeat of it all. But maybe without all the wine since my head was pounding and it wasn’t because of all the sex I’d had the night before.
A quick glance at my phone on the bedside table showed that it was almost eleven in the morning. The last time Trace had woken me up, by rolling over and sliding into me, was almost seven hours ago. I’d gotten plenty of sleep, so the headache was definitely due to the wine. But the small amount of pain was well worth it since the wine had lowered my inhibitions enough for me to conquer my fear and sleep with Trace. I’d finally given him my body, over and over again. And just like I’d suspected, I’d handed over my heart right along with it.
Some of my memories were hazy, but I was pretty sure I hadn’t shared my feelings with him yet…except for my crazy urge to tell him I wanted him to take me bare and give me a baby.
“Oh my God,” I groaned, covering my face with a pillow. I couldn’t believe I’d actually said that. Repeatedly. Madison’s baby craze must’ve been contagious, even though I hadn’t spent much time with my best friend lately. It was the only reason I could think of for why I was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have Trace’s baby. It had to be…right?
But that didn’t explain why Trace had so enthusiastically gone along with the idea. Or where he was right now.
I flung the sheet off me and rolled off the mattress. Heading into my bathroom, I paused to stare in the mirror. There were several red marks on my body, love bites Trace had left behind on my breasts and faint bruises from his fingertips on one hip. I traced the marks with a slight smile on my face, a shiver racing down my spine at the memory of how he’d left each one on my body.
“Oh, yeah. A little hangover is a small price to pay for all the pleasure he gave me.”
I went pee, brushed my teeth, took a quick shower, and tossed on some clothes before heading next door to see what Trace wanted to do today. And tomorrow too. I fully intended to spend the entire weekend with him, and now that we’d broken the seal I was hoping plenty of that time would be spent in bed. Or on the couch. In the shower. On the kitchen counter. Basically, wherever and whenever the mood struck. All weekend long.
“Jeez, it’s like I only have sex on the brain now,” I muttered as I knocked on his door. I waited a minute and rapped my knuckles against the hard surface again when he didn’t answer. After another minute, I pressed my ear to the door but didn’t hear anything. “Well, crap. I wonder if he’s in the shower?”
One of our other neighbors, a woman in her early fifties, walked past and shook her head at my antics. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, honey.”
My cheeks filled with heat, and I hurried back to my apartment. When I spotted his shoes next to my door, I heaved a sigh of relief. “He couldn’t have run off too far if he left those here.”
I wandered into my bedroom and checked my phone to see if he’d added himself to my contacts. As I typed in my four-digit code to unlock it.
Fuck! He couldn’t have done that, even if he tried. Stupid password protection.
I looked around the room, wondering if he might have left me a note. There wasn’t anything on the table tops. I yanked back the covers and searched the sheets without any luck. The only thing I found was his tie, shoved all the way down to the end of the bed. I checked under the pillows and in the bathroom, too. When I didn’t find a note anywhere, I headed into my living room to look there. I was starting to get frustrated and was thinking about knocking on Trace’s door again when my stomach growled. As I walked over to the fridge, I scanned the counters in the hope of finding a note, but there was no sign Trace had been in there
Yanking the fridge door open, I found it almost empty. “Maybe he went out to get us some breakfast.”
Considering we’d only had popcorn and some chicken wings at the bar, it made sense that he would’ve woken up hungry and gone looking for food. I made myself a pot of coffee, figuring he’d be back soon. An hour later, I’d drunk more than half of it but Trace hadn’t returned. Worried that something might have happened to him, I went next door and knocked on his door again. When he didn’t answer, I tried the doorknob and it was locked.
By that time, I was beyond starving. I didn’t want to leave the building, figuring my luck would be that Trace would come back when I was out. I ordered a pizza to
be delivered from the place where we’d had our first date, the same kind that we shared that night. The delivery guy showed up before Trace did, and I devoured half the pizza. I wrapped the rest in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge so Trace could have it later. Only, later never came.
Curled up on my couch with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around me, I binge-watched my favorite show for hours on end. When I got hungry again, I finished the other half of the pizza. Then I cracked open a bottle of wine and drained it over the next twelve hours. When it was empty, I opened another. By the time Monday morning rolled around, I’d watched five seasons of my show and polished off three bottles of wine. I’d also gone through two boxes of tissues because once the tears started, they didn’t seem like they’d ever stop.
What I didn’t get was any more sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Trace’s naked body hovering over mine. I couldn’t bear it. I was overwhelmed by memories of our night together. Even after three showers, I swore I could still smell him on me. I washed my sheets, pillowcases, and blankets twice, but I still couldn’t bring myself to lie down on my bed. Not that night, or any of the ones that followed.
A week later, I finally succumbed to my curiosity and tried calling Trace’s office. But all they would tell me was that he was currently unavailable. I didn’t bother leaving a message since I knew what that was code for...he didn’t want to talk to me. The message was loud and clear—and brutal. He’d gotten what he wanted from me and it had been enough for him. We were done before we’d ever really had the chance to begin, and it left me devastated.