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  “All the princes were total bastards in Shakespeare.”

  “Not Hamlet.”

  “Hamlet was useless. He couldn’t make a decision,” William scoffed.

  “So stop making excuses and kiss me again,” I said.

  He let out a low growl and seized me. I had never been taken suddenly into a man’s arms so completely, his mouth covering mine, and every part of me in contact with some part of him. My legs tangled up with his, and his warm hand slid under the baggy, borrowed t-shirt and along my rib cage, suggestive of pleasure to come. I moaned, already eager for him. As he kissed me, he stroked just beneath the swell of my breast. It felt so sweet, so delicious that I delved my hands into his thick, dark hair and pulled him closer. I wanted to start shucking off my clothes and urge him to go faster, but he slowed his kisses and caresses, pulled me to my feet. I was bewildered that he had stopped.

  “Not on the couch,” he said, “I want you in my bed.” Something about it was gallant and felt romantic to me.

  I followed him up to his bedroom. The last time, the only time I’d been in there was to rummage for clothes an hour or so earlier. This felt less like I had breached the inner sanctum like a thief and more like I was coming home. He led me to the big platform bed. Feeling a little shy, I sat down on the edge, looked up at him. He stripped off his shirt. I know my jaw dropped. His chest, his abs—he was obviously a disciplined athlete, a man who worked out, who had the most perfect body, lean and muscular with broad shoulders. I felt my mouth go dry at the sight.

  Bracing his hands on either side of me, he leaned down, gave me a teasing kiss and then reached for the drawstring of my shorts. He untied my messy knot and drew them down slowly, as my stomach tightened in anticipation. The next thing I knew he was between my thighs, his fingers stroking, his mouth hot, wet, demanding. I tried to wriggle away, sweaty and embarrassed as his tongue laved my most secret places. I felt exposed with him there between my legs. He could feel and see how wet I was, how desperate, and it felt too vulnerable, too much of a confession.

  “No, stay here,” he purred against my thigh.

  I went slack as if he’d been a snake charmer, a hypnotist. All he said was ’stay’ and I was on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and taking short, frantic breaths as he worked me over with his fingers and his wickedly skilled tongue. I was clawing at the sheets and whimpering in no time as a hot rush of pleasure threatened to burst forth. I felt weak, almost frightened at the power of the climax I felt building in me. He never rested, never showed mercy. It was just relentless intensity, the filthy strokes of his tongue on me, his fingers parting me and sliding inside, filling me as I bucked against him and cried out with the force of my orgasm. I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to keep myself quiet. He shook his head as he crawled up my trembling body, “God you taste so good.”

  He drew me onto my side and into his arms, his mouth on my neck. Coaxing me until I was warm and soft in his arms again, my hands on his strong back, my mouth moving to his shoulder. He pressed a muscular thigh between my legs, and I rocked shamelessly against it. William holding me in his arms, his thigh pressing against my needy sex—I couldn’t fathom any of it. If I was dreaming, I didn’t want to wake up. Ever.

  I let my eyes drop shut, parted my lips as his tongue slid in. He kissed me wet and deep and strong until I trembled, rubbing against his thigh with abandon to get the friction I needed. I already needed him to make me come again. I had never been like this before—so wound up, so aroused and desperate for a man. Now I was riding his leg like a horny teenager, like I had to have him now. I didn’t care what he thought of me. I was beyond reason. I would have done practically anything for the release I knew only he could give me.

  That was how far I had fallen. I knew that William could make me come like no other man ever would. Like the pitiful spasms I’d managed with a cheap vibrator were nothing at all. I needed this, the body racking jolt of rapture and the full experience of sex with him.

  The forbidden aspect of it riled me up even more. I ran my hands all over his chest, his arms, his stomach. I moved my mouth to his neck and nipped at his throat, felt the answering hardness of his cock against my belly. I wanted that, every inch of his impossible size. He might tear me apart with that, might be more than I could handle. But I still wanted it with desperate, feverish desire. I ran my hand over his erection, feeling size and weight and shape of it, that delicious curve that would feel so good inside me. I stroked him through his pants, thrilled to feel a wet spot with my thumb, knowing I’d made him leak just like he had aroused me until I was soaking for him. The idea of him wanting me that much made me go wild.

  “We should get those off of you,” I managed to pant as I reached for the waistband of his sweatpants.

  Swiftly, his erection was freed, thick and proud, hard and longer than I could have imagined. He looked so powerful with that jutting erection, but so vulnerable at the same time, exposed to me as I had been to him. I wound my arms around his neck and whispered that I wanted him.

  “Come to me,” he said.

  I had no choice. He could have commanded me in anything at that moment. I was his to direct. I was mesmerized by him, by the vulnerability and power of his erection, by the sweet knowledge that, forbidden or not, we wanted this and we would do it. Take what we wanted in secret, in darkness. I imagined him pinning me down, plunging that huge cock into my wet, tender sex. I knew that it would hurt—he was so big and thick and there was no way I could take all of him even if he went slowly and gave me time to stretch around him. I would feel such fullness with him inside me, would practically taste him in my mouth. Just the idea of that made me wetter, and then his fingers were between my legs again. Petting me, fondling me, making me slick and ready for the invasion of his stiff, powerful cock.

  Instead of pressing me flat into the mattress as I expected, he pulled me into his lap, my legs straddling him so that his incredible hardness nudged against the swollen, wet spot where I needed him most. I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders and started to lower myself onto his cock a little at a time. But he flexed his hips and breached me, invaded me with a stiff rod that felt massive within me as I stretched to accommodate his size. I rocked down over him, feeling the rich, hot slickness of having him bareback, of riding his cock with nothing between us. He held my hips, his eyes meeting mine as he looked up at me. I sucked in air at the shock of his penetration, at how it felt so right. So incredibly, deliciously right.

  This was William. The one I used to call Man Crush Monday, my lonely-hearts fantasy. A man I’d come to know and care for. The man I wanted more than anything, so much so that my mouth watered whenever he said good morning to me. And when he had kissed me in the hall for the first time, it was a miracle that I didn’t come from that alone. I had been alone so long, and lonely for even longer. I had wanted him with a force that choked me, never dreaming he wanted me too. So when I found his hungry gaze on me, the heat of his hands on my body, it was an overwhelming jolt of confidence and a firestorm of lust that he could whip up just by looking in my eyes.

  Emboldened by his direct gaze, I started to roll my hips, to move him against every place inside me. I used his cock, leaning back so the curve brushed an exquisite spot inside me. When I arched my back that way, William swept his hand down my stomach, touching my mound and sending a hot tingle across my skin. He groaned as he watched me gyrate on top of him. William’s hands moved up beneath my shirt and stroked me, plucking at my small, tight nipples in a way that set me convulsing around him so fast that it took my breath. I had started coming already. I took long, steadying breaths to hold it off, to clear my head.

  Then I took matters into my own hands, my fingers tracing his jaw as I kissed him, his arms tight around me, anchoring me to his chest so that I couldn’t pull away from him, so heavy and real, so hot and wet that when he moved in me, it felt so powerful, like an earthquake. It was no wonder that I gasped and sank down deeper on his cock a
t the sensation. I wanted to rub him all over me, wanton and greedy. I was giving small cries, high little screams every time he thrust into me. Ecstasy was being torn out of me, the touch of his thumb on the spot just above our joining, the way he worked my clit until I was bucking wildly, trying my best to hold off and not be swept away.

  “Oh God,” I gasped, “I’m going to come again. William, William, please, no—” I sobbed as he wrung an orgasm out of me, my whole body clenching up in an almost painful, bright surge of sharp, teeth chattering pleasure that left me screaming yes into his mouth, my tongue stroking his.

  He didn’t stop, didn’t let me come down off the orgasm that left me too sensitive, restless. The merciless thrusts of William’s cock in me made me throw my head back, too weak to resist.

  He pressed his palm into the small of my back, and my arms draped around his neck. Something in his touch made me slow down to savor what we shared. He kissed me, my chin, my lower lip, my neck. His big hand slid underneath my shirt, and the slow circles of his thumb on my nipple made me shiver, tightening around him, gripping the invasion of his body as if to hold him there forever. My vision went bright as my gaze slid from his eyes. He captured my lips, kissing me in slow, deep strokes that mirrored the movements of his cock inside me. I felt as if I were trying to hold back the ocean with only my hands as the powerful orgasm racked through me, searing and sharp. I felt myself falling, and I was on my back, William looming over me, dragging his cock out of me and thrusting back in so deep, sinking in to the hilt. All I could do was throw my arms around him and hold on for dear life. Everything seemed to rage and seethe around me, like a thunderstorm ripping open the world because of the intensity of our lovemaking, the heavy, sweet rock of his thrusts. I sobbed, tears coursing down my face.

  I said his name, and he leaned his forehead against mine, his gaze never wavering as he groaned and came inside me with a great roar, the liquid lashing inside me in hot spurts. I reveled in it, in the intimacy, the primal feeling of gripping him with my body as pleasure wracked his. I kissed him, my tongue seeking his as he pumped into me with the final throes of his orgasm. Then he eased out of me, withdrawing gently, his cock replaced instantly by his fingers. He delved into me again, questing and rubbing, his long fingers filling me, stroking me through the wet mess of our sex. I could still feel the force of his coming, the way he had shot out inside me, with a deep, primal thrill. When his thumb found my clit and started to press and tap, to rub a tight circle without letting up, I knew he felt it, felt me creaming myself on his fingers as I rolled my hips and rose off the mattress with the force of my orgasm.

  If he hadn’t said, “Let me hold you, Jessica,” I probably would have kept thrashing until I fell off the bed. As it was, his words stilled me, even as the last waves of orgasm shook me. I curled up against him, his arms around me.

  “There,” he said, “that’s better.” I nodded sleepily, not sure if he meant it was better with me nestled in his arms or if he felt better now that he’d had me, now that he had taken me so thoroughly that I felt boneless and weary and overjoyed.

  6

  William

  She stayed with me. She slept in my bed, and was there curled on her side and dreaming away when I came back from checking on David, from taking his temperature and giving him Tylenol and making him drink some water. The wonder of it, of Jessica stretched out in my long-empty bed, was enough to make me think I was dreaming.

  I could let myself have this for one night. I could sleep spooned up behind her, with my chest against her back, her legs bent around mine like a smaller mirror of my body, melting against me. When she woke and kissed me in the early morning hours, I stirred and did not resist. I held her, kissed her, gently made love to her without speaking a word. Just the silent communion of our bodies, of that elemental need I seemed to have for her. I smoothed back her hair, kissed her so softly as she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. It was paradise, but a paradise bought with a terrible mistake. I had somehow let her believe that we could have more than this. I hadn’t meant to seduce her, to deceive her in any way. But I knew damn well that she didn’t come to me and share my bed for fun. Nothing in the way she touched me or looked at me seemed light or easy. It felt too real, too much like the kind of thing that had destroyed me once before.

  At six, just after finding that David’s temperature was below a hundred, I woke her, “Jessica, please wake up. It’s morning.”

  She stirred and mumbled, pushing tangled hair out of her face. I ached to kiss her again, to crawl back into that bed and pretend everything was fine. But I owed her more than that. It would not be a kindness to lie to her.

  “Mmmm,” she said as she smiled and saw me.

  “David’s fever is gone,” I said.

  “Wonderful. I must’ve really slept. I meant to help you check on him and give him his medicine and stuff—sorry. You wiped me out,” she said with a lazy, satisfied smile.

  “You needed your rest. It was an incredible night. But you work at the diner today don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I have to be there at seven. What time is it?”

  “A little after six.”

  “I could call in sick and stay with David today,” she offered.

  “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m going to take him to the doctor this morning myself. You don’t have to miss work. I can take care of my son.”

  Something in my voice let her know there would be no discussion about it.

  “I should get dressed,” she said, averting her eyes.

  I hated myself for the look that crossed her face, but it had to be this way. “Your clothes are dry from yesterday. I brought them up—they’re on the chair.”

  “Thanks. I’ll just—can you call the car?”

  When she was gone, I thought I’d be able to breathe more easily. Once the door shut on a quiet, awkward goodbye, I felt worse. I had taken advantage of her, and worse, taken advantage of her emotional state over my son’s sickness. I knew perfectly well that Jessica had feelings for me. But there was no place in my life for a romantic relationship, and there was certainly no room for the kind of risk it would be with not only my feelings but David’s as well. I wouldn’t do such a thing. I had made a mistake. I was ashamed of what I had done in seducing her, and I needed to do the manly thing, the honorable thing and spell it out for her. I had to apologize. I winced at the thought of how uncomfortable that conversation was destined to be.

  I checked David and found that his temperature still hovered in the low 99’s. I made an early appointment with his pediatrician’s office and got him ready. We were taken in before office hours technically began, and he was examined and given a strep swab and a flu test. Both tests came up negative, and the doctor pronounced it an ear infection, prescribed a liquid antibiotic and said that he could return to school when he felt up to it. Which was immediately. With the fever down and the swabbing tantrum over, he was desperate to go to class.

  “Come on! Mrs. Angie teaches science in the afternoons. I can’t miss that. The other kids don’t even raise their hand, they just sit there.”

  “So I need to send you to school for Mrs. Angie’s benefit? Because her lesson will be a total failure if you’re not there?” I teased.

  “Yes,” he said, so seriously that I had to keep from laughing.

  I relented, with the warning that if he felt worse, the school nurse would call me to come get him. David agreed, the teacher and nurse were notified through the office, and I took him to school. He ran off like nothing had ever been wrong with him. I shook my head ruefully. He was stubborn, set on getting what he wanted—bossy and a bit of a know it all. I could not possibly have loved him more or my heart would have burst. He had his own personality, a frustration and a delight to me. Something I had never wanted, and something I could never do without now. It was confounding and almost magical to me.

  I had my assistant send flowers to Jessica, although I stopped short of attaching a message other
than a simple thank you. I went to the office for an hour, but couldn’t concentrate at all. I had to speak with her and clear things up. I knew she was working at the diner, so I went there. As soon as I stepped in the door, it was like a hush fell over the crowd. I felt stared at, scrutinized. Or perhaps, my guilt was getting the best of me. Jess bustled out of the kitchen, passed her tray to another server and came to me instantly as if I had summoned her, which I suppose I had in a way.

  She was wearing the uniform, the button up, retro red dress with white piping, the white apron, her hair in a bouncy ponytail. She looked like a wet dream I’d been having for the last two years, which made my body riot. I marshaled my senses, got myself under strict control. Her smile was bright and hopeful, like a woman excitedly greeting her lover who’d come to make amends. I would never be that. I couldn’t.

  “Could we talk for a moment?” I said. She nodded.

  “I’m taking my break,” she called back toward the kitchen.

  We stepped outside. The sharp chill in the air made me want to wrap my coat closer around me. Instead, I shucked off my coat and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “You must be freezing.”

  “Yeah, but there’s not much privacy in the diner. I didn’t figure you wanted to talk in the bathroom.”

  “Not especially, no. Sorry for interrupting you at work. I needed to talk to you though, and didn’t want to do it over the phone,” I said.

  “I’ll excuse you for interrupting me if you’ll explain why you’re making everything sound like doom. Is David okay?”

  “Yes, he has an ear infection. He insisted on returning to school because Mrs. Angie—”

  “Does science in the afternoons and she’d be lost without him. It’s a story I know well,” she said with an indulgent smile.

  That smile made me feel like more of an asshole than I already did. For a moment I almost blamed her, blamed her for making this hard, for being a sweet person with good intentions. When it would have been so much easier for me if she had been otherwise. She lifted her face to mine right there on the sidewalk as if she would accept my kiss in front of the stares of her customers and coworkers through the window. As if she were not ashamed, which she clearly was not. And what had she to be ashamed of? She had done nothing wrong. The fault was all my own.