“I changed my mind.” He was still bristling, wanting to wipe the smug expression off Rothe’s obnoxious face.
“Oh. Okay.” Her face reflected lingering confusion, but she turned to Rothe and said politely, “It was nice catching up with you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Sure thing.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, causing Ander to tense up and move closer.
Lori rolled her eyes at him, and Rothe grinned as he swaggered into the ballroom.
“Now what the hell are you doing here?” she demanded. “And why are you acting this way?”
Since he didn’t really have an answer to her first question, he answered her second one. “I’m wondering why you were being so friendly with the asshole.”
“Are you kidding? Did you think I would slap him or something?”
“I thought you would ignore him, which is exactly what he deserves.”
“Of course, he deserves it. But the only way to act when you run into an old boyfriend who treated you badly is to act like you’re blissfully happy without him. I certainly wasn’t going to act like I was still hurt by his behavior. I have my pride, after all.”
Ander got stuck on one part of her response. “What do you mean act like you’re blissfully happy. I thought you were happy.”
“I am happy. For God’s sake, what’s the matter with you, Ander? I meant you just act like you’re happy whether you are or not. In my case, it happens to be true. Except when you charge in like an alpha dog, nipping at any imagined threat. What the hell—” It was only then that she realized what had prompted his mood. “Are you serious? Are you jealous? Of Phil Rothe?”
“I’m not jealous,” he gritted out. “I just don’t see any reason for you to be talking to him, much less smiling at him that way.”
She almost choked on her surprise, which was a clear sign that Ander was being unreasonable and not at all like himself. “You can’t possibly think I would hook up with Phil Rothe. You can’t possibly think I would hook up with anyone. After everything we’ve been through, you can’t think I would—”
“Of course, I don’t think you would do anything.”
“You can’t think I want to do anything.”
Ander made himself force down the irrational possessiveness. “I know you wouldn’t.”
She scanned his face, searching for some truth she couldn’t find. “Ander, tell me you don’t think I want to be with anyone but you. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with. You’re the only man I want to be with. You know that.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, letting out a breath and turning his head away in an awkward jerk. “I know that.”
“Then what’s the problem.” She reached up to cup his face, making him look back at her. “Where did this come from?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I just…I just overreacted.”
To his surprise, she stifled a laugh. “Do you think so?”
He couldn’t help but smile back at the warm irony on her face. “Maybe a little.”
“Can you tell me why?”
He couldn’t tell her everything, but he forced himself to tell her this much, even though the words were stilted and awkward. “You left me for him once.”
“But that was… We weren’t together then, Ander. I thought we could never be together. I was just trying to have a real relationship, and I didn’t think I could have one with you.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“It still hurt me. When you stopped seeing me. Because of him. It hurt a lot.”
Her face tightened with emotion, and she reached out to pull him into a hug. “Oh, Ander. I’m so sorry.”
He hugged her back. Couldn’t help it. Needed her warmth and affection and support as much as he needed his next breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who’d fallen for you, when I knew better.”
“You know I’d fallen for you too,” she said against his shirt.
His arms tightened. “Yeah. I know that now. I didn’t know it then. And Rothe had taken everything I ever wanted. I knew I’d never really had you to begin with, but it still felt like he’d taken you away from me. I hated him for it.”
Finally, she pulled away, and he could see a trace of tears in her eyes. “But you have me now. You have what you want now. Right?”
He leaned down to give her a hard kiss. “Right.”
It was true.
And he wasn’t going to let any shattered remnants of his past threaten what they finally had.
***
Lori didn’t stay for the banquet. The two of them just went home together, leaving her car in the garage, since Ander could drop her back off for the final conference sessions the following morning.
They were both tired and quiet on the ride back, but he could tell she wasn’t annoyed with him anymore.
When they got into their apartment, they stood looking at each other for a minute.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“What did you want to do now? Are you hungry? Because I could probably—”
Ander gave into an impulse and grabbed her, pulling her into a deep kiss before she could finish the sentence.
She responded immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck and her soft body pressing into his.
A wave of need overtook him before he could stop it, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Then, without breaking the kiss, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her into their room.
The bed was a little rumpled, since neither of them had made it very carefully that morning. He laid her down and let her pull him on top of her. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and his mind was a hot, hungry blur as she eagerly responded, clutching at him and trying to pull off his clothes.
He didn’t have the patience to wait for either of them to undress, and soon he’d managed to bunch up her skirt around her waist, spread her legs and unzip his pants. Her hands fumbled with his cock until they’d moved aside her panties and lined him up. Then, with a hard push of his pelvis, he was inside her.
She was hot and clinging, and his hips worked instinctively as she wrapped her legs tightly around his middle. He wasn’t even aware of specific moves—just the feel, the scent, the warmth of Lori surrounding him.
He heard her gasping, the rhythm matching the low grunts he couldn’t hold back as he thrust hard and fast. The sound was intoxicating, speaking to something deep at his core. She was writhing between his body and the mattress, her hands clawing desperately at the shirt he hadn’t managed to take off.
He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and tried to hold on, but he couldn’t. A wave of pleasure overwhelmed him, and he lost all control.
He bit down on her neck as he released a thick sound, coming before he wanted to, vaguely realizing that he hadn’t lasted long enough to please her.
When the spasms of his climax finally passed, he slumped on top of her. She held him tightly, murmuring wordless sounds of tenderness.
He couldn’t possibly speak. He’d given up too much in the hunger with which he’d taken her, in the need he’d offered her, knowing she could fill it.
But he hadn’t done the same for her.
She stroked him gently until his breathing evened out.
Then he lifted his head to say, “Sorry.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve come in the last couple of days?” she asked with a scowl. “I’m more than satisfied. You know I love being with you, regardless of the orgasm.”
“Yeah.” He knew she was speaking the truth, but it still felt like he’d been selfish before, assuaging his own hunger in her without giving her what she needed first.
They lay together for several minutes. He really was wiped out, so he was surprised when the delicious press of her body caused his sated cock to slowly harden again.
“Well, what do you know.” There was a wry note in her voice that he recognized very well.
“I know
that you’re going to get that orgasm now.”
She laughed. Then she stopped laughing when he rolled her over onto her back. He spent some time on foreplay so he wouldn’t get out of control again, slowly removing her clothes and tending to every part of her body. When she was clawing at his back, he slid inside her again.
He moved slowly at first, carefully directing his motion to give her the most pleasure. She responded beautifully, starting to gasp raggedly and stretching out her arms and back in languid pleasure.
Then he felt her tighten around him, and she squeezed her legs around his middle almost unbearably. “Ander! Oh, God!”
Then her whole body shook as she came.
He was prepared, so he didn’t let her pull him into climax as well.
She blinked up at him. “Not yet?”
“No. Not yet. I think we can do a little more for you.”
He slid his cock out and turned her over onto her stomach, lifting her butt enough to give him access to her pussy.
“Feeling like a caveman, I guess.” She looked at him over her shoulder, fond humor mingling with the lust.
“Don’t play coy. I know how much you like it too.”
She did like it. He knew from experience. And this knowledge was affirmed by the way she gradually fell into helpless moans as he thrust.
She kept moaning, not trying to stifle them the way she sometimes did. She gripped the bedding tighter and tighter as their motion accelerated.
He stroked her hair. Stroked her back. Pushed into her rhythmically. “So do you like it?”
“Mmm.” Her head was turned to the side, her cheek pressed against the pillow.
“Was that a yes?”
“Oh, God, yeah.” Her voice rose sharply when he lifted her hips a little more, changing the angle of penetration. “Oh, God, it feels so good.”
“Are you going to come again?”
“Yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah. Gonna come so hard.”
He gripped the soft flesh of her bottom and held onto his control. He was doing this for her, and he was going to make sure she got as much pleasure as possible.
“Tell me when.” Not just because he liked to hear it but because he might need to mentally prepare.
“Soon.” Her body was moving as much as it could in this position, her bottom pressing eagerly back toward each of his thrusts. “Faster. A little faster.”
He picked up his speed. “How’s that?”
“So good. Coming.” Her moans had transformed to helpless whimpers. “So good. Now, now.”
Then she fell into orgasm again, and it was all he could do to not come with her.
He managed, though.
She flopped forward afterwards, and her motion caused him to slip out. He caressed her gently as she caught her breath, until she turned back and looked at him, her eyes resting on his still-hard erection. “Wow. You’re ambitious tonight.”
“Always.” With that, he lifted her on her hands and knees on the bed in front of him, and he buried his cock in her body again.
“Oh God. This is going to have to be the last time, or I might just faint away from exhaustion."
She moved with him, though, when he started to thrust again. Her body was already primed and ready, so it didn’t take long for her to reach that familiar urgency once more.
Her skin was flushed all over and wet with perspiration, and her hair was a tangled mess around her face. She was looking back at him over her shoulder, and eventually she was almost sobbing with pleasure as she worked up toward another orgasm.
“Oh God, Ander!” she gasped, her body bouncing with the force of each of his thrusts. “Gonna come again! Oh fuck!”
Her body tightened and released, her pussy clenching around him as she did.
The familiar rush of need threatened to take him over, but he held on to the threads of his control because he didn’t want this to end yet.
He’d been gripping the soft flesh of her ass, but now he reached one hand forward to stroke her hair back from her hot face. Her elbows had buckled, and her cheek was pressed against the pillow again, only her bottom now in the air.
The position satisfied some animalistic urge Ander wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He couldn’t help but thrust again in tight little pushes against her ass.
Her pussy was really wet, moisture from his release earlier and her intense arousal leaking out from where they were connected. Something thrilled inside him when he heard her huffing out, “Eh, eh,” as another climax tightened on her face.
He knew the female body better than most men, but he’d never known a woman who was so responsive, who seemed to want him, need him so much.
He fucked her until she came again and smothered her cry in the pillow. Then she started to gasp, “You come too, Ander. Please, baby. You come too.”
He groaned and held himself still, trying to realign the ruthless grip he had on his own need so he could finally do as she said.
She pushed herself up until her arms were straightened. Then she looked at him again over her shoulder. “Let go, Ander,” she rasped, her throat clearly scratchy from her enthusiastic verbal responses earlier. “You can let go.”
She reached up to grip the headboard, changing the angle of penetration. Ander moaned at the almost painful pleasure and then reached over to brace himself with one hand on the headboard next to hers.
He started to move again, pushing hard and rhythmically at first, but then speeding up as the bone-deep need overtook him. They were shaking the bed wildly, the headboard banging loudly against the wall. If it hadn’t been an inside wall, they might be getting complaints from their neighbors.
Both of them were grunting as he let go of the last threads of his control.
She might have come again. He couldn’t tell. But her pussy was brutally tight around him as the intense pressure exploded through balls and rushed through his cock. He cried out roughly as he let it all go.
Somehow—he couldn’t remember how—they ended up collapsed on the bed together. He was on top of her again, and she was holding him with her arms and her legs.
His throat hurt, his chest hurt, and his vision was actually blurry for several minutes until he’d managed to recover from the intensity of the release. Lori was murmuring again. He couldn’t understand what she was saying, but the sound of her soft voice was comforting, needed.
Finally, she started to squirm beneath him, and he knew he should relieve her of his weight. He managed to roll off, onto his back, and he lay staring at the ceiling and gasping.
Lori rolled out of bed and limped to the bathroom. When she returned a minute later, she was still limping.
“You all right?” he asked, lifting his head in concern when she fell into the bed beside him again.
“Yeah.” She smiled at him, looking utterly spent. “No permanent damage.”
“Any damage at all?” He desperately tried to remember what he’d done to her. He’d let himself go too much, and he might have hurt her.
“Stop it,” she chided, reaching over to stroke his chest. He still wore his shirt, but it was hanging open. Two of the buttons appeared to be torn off. “I’m fine. It was amazing.”
Ander released his breath and let himself relax again.
“You all right?” Lori asked, her voice conveying a familiar hint of worry.
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because I know you. And because you know I never let things go. You might as well tell me now, because I’m not going to stop asking.”
He knew it was true. When he’d first started seeing her as an escort, she’d asked him question after question. Things no one had ever asked him before.
He’d had no idea how to handle it then.
He had no idea how to handle it now.
He reached out and pulled her against him, and she nestled beside him.
“Maybe you’ll tell me soon?” she asked, very softly.
“Yeah,” he responded, hoping it was true.
Surely he’d eventually be capable of telling her without falling apart completely.
Maybe he could soon.
Five
Ander didn’t feel any stronger the following morning. In fact, he was so exhausted that it took him a while before he could get out of bed.
He was very much afraid that, if he were stretched any further, he would just break.
Lounging around all day, however, would be the worst thing he could do. He’d have nothing to occupy him but his own thoughts, nothing to do but give into the shuddering knowledge that kept pushing at the edges of his consciousness. So he forced himself to get up and go back to campus to work.
He worked all day and mostly succeeded in keeping his mind on the safety of his research. He called to let Lori know he’d be coming home late. He said she shouldn’t worry about dinner, but she insisted she’d make something whenever he got home.
Since he knew she was waiting for him, he left campus at just after eight in the evening, even though he was tempted to work longer.
He assumed he’d eventually return to secure mental footing and not have to maneuver around emotional landmines like this. He just needed more time. Soon, he’d feel like himself again—the person he’d been ever since retiring as an escort.
At the moment, his exhaustion was probably the principal factor in his ridiculous neediness, so he got a cup of coffee on his way home, trying to summon enough energy to spend time with Lori without collapsing into the pitiful wreck he felt.
She was writing when he arrived, but she put her laptop away immediately and went to cut some fresh bread and warm up soup she’d made the day before.
Ander did his best to make conversation while they ate, but he didn’t do a very good job. They kept lapsing into long stretches of silence.
Each time he noticed her watching him anxiously, he would rouse himself enough to ask about the novel she was writing or talk casually about his research. He couldn’t sustain any discussion very long, though. It took more focus than he possessed.
He was angry with himself as they finished and Lori picked up the dishes.
She was worried about him—that much was obvious—and he was the one to blame.
He wanted to give her everything, and instead he’d given her this.