His strokes become slow, and torturous, as his length consumes me. And I’m already there, ready to come undone, as my breathing catches in my throat.
“I saved this just for you,” I mumble against his mouth.
“Such a good girl,” he sharply exhales, increasing the strength with each thrust.
My orgasm claims me, as my body begins to shake, and I cry out in ecstasy. My legs tremor as I grind my hips against him, working my clit at the same time, until my cries fade to soft, little whimpers.
Many thoughts rush through my mind, but there’s only one that stands out. I could get used to this. But this is just for one night. One night only. By sunrise, it’s over.
And that’s what truly scares me.
Through the window, the sun’s rays beam into the room. Ghost pulls me closer in his sleep, the muscles in his arm flexing as his grip on me tightens. Pressing my face in the crook of his neck, I breathe in the lingering, heady scent of his soap.
When suddenly, fear consumes me. It’s morning. I’m too attached. I need to leave.
I need to leave, now.
Carefully lifting his arm, I sneak away, trying my best not to wake him. Tiptoeing across the room, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. What am I doing?
Shutting the door quietly behind me, I release a small breath, hating how I allowed myself to form such an unhealthy attachment to him. Walking down the quiet hallway, my heart hammers in my chest with each step, as I try not to wake anyone.
Until I come to realize I’m not alone.
Jason stands at the kitchen island, pouring himself a cup of coffee, and when he notices my presence, he becomes still. And he knows. Placing the pot onto the granite counter, he frowns, seeming disheartened with my decision to leave.
“Before you sneak out, do you at least want some coffee?” he asks smugly.
Sheepishly dropping my gaze to the floor, I rub my face with my hands. “Shit,” I mutter dryly. “I figured you would still be sleeping. I’m sorry.”
“Coffee?” he reiterates, edginess in his tone.
“I’m okay—”
“Here.” Jason walks around the island, gray sweatpants hung low on his hips. He hands me the canteen of hot coffee, locking his eyes with mine. “To go.”
“I’m sorry,” I anxiously blurt out, embarrassed.
“Is he awake?”
“No,” I practically whisper. “He’s still sleeping.”
His face hardens. “He’s not going to like this, Quinn,” he presses, rubbing his fingers along his jaw. “He’s going to lose his shit when he wakes up and you’re not there.”
“I told him that by sunrise, it’s over.”
He steps closer, catching me off guard. “But is that really what you want?” he asks.
My heart immediately sinks at the thought of losing him.
Losing all of them.
His eyes narrow. “Seems like you’ve already made up your mind,” he points out. “Tell him. Tell him what you want. How you feel.”
“It was just one night of fun,” I try to convince myself. “I’m sure that he’s going to wake up and forget all about me. That’s how it usually works. I really have to go.”
Bolting for the front door, I stop dead in my tracks, my hand lingering on the knob. Turning around one last time, our eyes lock in an intense stare.
“It was nice to meet you, Jason,” I say.
“Likewise, Quinn,” he replies, crookedly grinning.
And I shut the door behind me.
The smell of a bonfire travels through the late afternoon air. My hair blows freely in the wind, as I anxiously tuck a loose strand behind my ear. My black combat boots crunch through the leaves covering the grass.
Walking up the front steps to the Salem public library, a smile claims my face. One of my favorite places to escape the world around me. Clutching my notebook tight against my chest, my gaze roams the library as I look for a quiet place to sit. My mind wanders, and I just can’t seem to get everything that happened last night out of my head. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about them.
About Ghost.
I’d do anything to take back my one-night-only condition.
Sitting down at the table in the back of the building, I lean back in my chair. Opening my favorite romance novel, I breathe in the fresh, crisp pages. Now, it’s not so much fiction to me like it was before.
I can now say that I’ve lived out my darkest fantasies, and I have no regrets.
Flipping to the page where my bookmark rests, goosebumps rise on my skin, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck.