The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)

My skin prickled all over with goose bumps, and my breathing sped up at the sudden, keen anticipation. I whipped my sweater off, staggering a little, drunk from wanting. I kicked my boots off and shimmied out of my pants, working fast rather than sexy.

I hadn’t exactly figured we’d be having sex tonight. I thought we’d be breaking up. In fact, I’d dressed with an eye to dissuade myself from removing outer layers of clothing. My bra was the rattiest one I owned, a yellow satin with shot elastic and covered in snags. After four days apart and the relief that we weren’t splitting, I wasn’t about to skip out because of my underwear situation, even if I was wearing gray cotton panties. I did, however, lose those items as fast as possible.

He stood and took me into his arms, pulling my naked body against his fully clothed one. “I missed you.”

I dug my fingers into his back, just holding on. I wished I could change everything going on in our lives. I wished nothing from the past week had happened.

His touch brought me out of my wishing and into the present. As his hands glided down my arms, I couldn’t get caught up feeling as though something undeserved or unfair had happened to us. I could only feel myself sinking into the headspace I inhabited when I was with him, my need to submit. He made me burn for him.

We tried to make it to the bedroom, we really did. He pulled off his shirt as we clumsily kissed and walked at the same time. We got as far as the dining room when he steered me toward the enormous table there. He pushed a chair aside and knocked another over, then lifted me onto the polished wood. I gasped as the cool surface hit my bare ass, and gasped again when Neil dropped to his knees beneath my spread legs, biting and sucking at my inner thighs.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he groaned, and his breath teased my intimate flesh.

When we had our hands on each other, when he had his mouth on me, everything seemed right again. I was keenly aware that it didn’t mean our connection was purely physical, rather than emotional; it just meant that when we touched each other, it was impossible to hide what we felt. In some aspects, we communicated better this way. There was no fumbling for what to say, or struggling with how to express our feelings. And there was no chance of either of us being even unintentionally dishonest or misunderstood.

He sucked at my clit, swirled his tongue around it, and I was totally lost. My skin prickled all over. I braced my feet against his shoulders and lifted my pelvis, rubbing myself against him, gasping as his sharp stubble raked me.

“I just want to fuck,” I gasped, grabbing at his head. “Fuck me, please.”

He looked up, momentarily perplexed, probably at the idea of anyone turning down oral sex. Then my words sunk in and he stood and helped me off the table. “Let’s go.”

This time, we got as far as the living room. I tried to pull him toward one of the couches.

“Condom,” he reminded me, boosting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. “We need to go to the bedroom.”

“Why, are you going to get me more pregnant?” I gasped against his mouth. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

We tumbled onto the sofa, the room-temperature leather cool on my back. He reached between us, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, and then he was inside of me, all of him, so fast my breath rushed from my lungs.

“Let’s break up every day, okay?” I moaned, arching my head back, holding onto his shoulders.

“We didn’t... break up,” he panted beside my ear. His fingers dug into my ass as he lifted me up to meet his frantic thrusts.

“Whatever, let’s just do this every day.” I laughed, breathless, as he bit my neck and growled.

My knees hugged his chest, and his hands slipped up my thighs to push my legs further back. He reached between us to roll my clit between his thumb and forefinger, and that was all it took. I raked my nails down his arms and gasped, “I’m— I’m—“

“Oh, fuck!” Neil sped up, everything in the moment becoming more urgent; my building climax, the slap of our skin meeting, the obscene, wet sound of my body clutching at him while he pumped furiously into me. I half-shouted, half-moaned, arching my back as my orgasm drew all my muscles up tight. He stilled above me, his cock jerking. It was his guttural groan and the hot pulse of him that pushed me over the edge, wailing.

When I came down, he was breathing hard, crushing me into the couch. My knees were practically touching my ears still, and I carefully lowered my legs. I didn’t want him to leave me yet. I relished the twitch of his pulse inside me, and the way he hissed when I shifted position.