That’s not what kept me up, though. I’ve known men like Craig Holder all my life. He doesn’t scare me. What scares me to death is the five-foot-something blue-eyed woman who literally brought me to my knees. It wasn’t the first time I was on my knees for her, but it was different. Submitting to Allie, being degraded by her, made me feel alive in a way I can barely describe.
I used to enjoy sex. Back in high school and college. For me, it was about the thrill of the chase. It all started with Skylar, who I thought I had feelings for. I didn’t lie to Allie. We never slept together, but we kissed once, and that was enough to make us both realize that we were meant to be friends. After that, I went about my business as a typical red-blooded teenager. I was never interested in the girls who propositioned me, though. I wanted the ones who didn’t know I existed—or at least pretended not to. It was usually a game, and I knew it, but I played along anyway. It was fun until it wasn’t. When I got serious with a girl in my sophomore year of college, everything started happening way too fast.
My parents adored her because she came from a wealthy family, and she was all too happy to humor them when they talked of marriage and starting a family. It scared the shit out of me, and when she told me she was going to stop taking birth control and “if it happens, it happens,” I ended it then and there. My mom was pissed, my dad called me selfish, and I proceeded to haveveryprotected sex with half of the varsity cheerleading team and at least one entire sorority over the next two years. That’s when I stopped enjoying it. It was meaningless androbotic. I would get off, but I felt nothing. Like when your cheek is numb from the dentist and you run your finger over it. You know what it’s supposed to feel like, but it’s blunted. So eventually, I gave up. After college, I’d sleep with women here and there when the opportunity presented itself, but it was transactional. I didn’t even care about the chase anymore.
Until Allie.
That night I saw her from across the bar, something clicked. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and I knew that it would only make me want her more. That night I finally got to touch her, we didn’t even have sex, and I felt more than all of my previous hook-ups combined. I didn’t need to come. Watching her fall apart on my hand was like getting the feeling back in all of the numbed parts of me at once.
When I went down on her at her house that day after the inn, it wasn’t just to prove a point, but I made her feel that way. I was angry when she showed back up in my life acting like she was the one who was wronged, but I never wanted her to feel the same way I did when I woke up alone in the sand that night.
Then there was last night…I’ve never done that with anyone. Never submitted to anyone. Honestly, I’ve never given much thought to what I like in bed. I always just went along with what the moment called for. A woman wanted my hands around her throat? I’d do it.Rough? Gentle? Slow? Hard? Talk to me. Don’t talk. From behind. I want to see your face.
I did whatever women wanted. Maybe I have been submissive this whole time. Or passive. I think that’s the better term. But what Allie and I did? It was on a whole other level. She made degrading me feel like an art form. The beauty was in the smallest details, like making me keep my underwear on around my thighs because all she cared about was having easy access to me.
My phone chimes again, and I turn it over so it’s face up on my desk. It’s my father. Probably trying to get me to come backto the company again. He’s been going back and forth between practically begging me to come back and insulting me for leaving in the first place, threatening me with various consequences, mostly involving my trust fund. It feels like dealing with a toxic ex. About a week ago, I started ignoring his texts and calls altogether. I swipe up my phone and delete the texts without even looking.
Draining the last of my coffee, I’m about to get a refill when my door slams open. Declan stands in the doorway holding a motorcycle helmet against his hip. He’s leaning against the door, his legs crossed at the ankles. Darkness pools under his right eye and his dirty blonde hair is disheveled. His lip is split right next to his lip ring, and there’s some crusted blood beneath it.
“What the hell, Dec?”
“What?” he asks casually as he crosses over the threshold and takes a seat across from me, tossing his helmet on the floor.
“Picking fights with bikers again?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. He shrugs and lifts his leg up to rest across his lap.
“It’s nine-thirty in the morning. Is this from last night?” I gesture to the shiner blooming under his lower lid.
His dark eyes simmer, but he ignores my question.
“Why are you here, Declan?You’ve never stepped foot in this office before.”
“Can’t a guy just visit his oldest friend?” he smirks.
“You want something.”
“Ouch,” he winces, holding his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt, Ash. How many years have we been friends, and you think I would just come in here to use you?”
I look up toward my open office door, just to gauge his reaction. Sure enough, he flips his head back to see what I’m looking at, his eyes nervously darting back and forth.
“She’s not here,” I tell him. I don’t have to say who.
“I know,” he says, relaxing back into the chair. “I saw her car leave.”
I shake my head. “I’m honestly not sure who you’re stalking at this point. Me or her.”
“It can be both,” he says with a wink. I hear the distant sound of a chair scraping against wood and look up to see Allie getting up from her desk.Shit—don’t come in here.I don’t need her interacting with Declan any more than she already has.
Ever the fucking detective, Dec seems to notice the change in my face. “Wait, why doyoulook nervous?”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.”
My best friend turns around again to see what I’m looking at. I breathe a sigh of relief. Allie’s just at the photocopier. When he turns back, he studies me for a moment. In another life, Declan would have made a great cop. He’s a fucking human lie detector.
“Ahhh, I see,” he goads. “You finally fucked her. Good for you. Hopefully, you got it out of your system.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
