I never feel guilty.
What is happening to me?
Where did this girl come from??
“Noah…” she breathes my name onto my clavicle and even that sends a rush of blood straight to my cock.
I can’t help myself. My hips push forward to rub it on her. Just a little… I’m not trying to be a huge creep but, my God, this friction feels better than all the dry-hump sessions of my teenage years.
At this point, we’re practically fucking through our clothes on the dance floor of a not-so-crowded club. Her thighs part just enough to let me in between and I’m aching; straining against my jeans that shield my erection just enough for me not to look like a fucking psycho. But I’m definitely hard. She can absolutely feel it. And she absolutely likes it.
No. Nope, I’m done. I’m kissing her, like now.
I tear myself away from her neck which I may or may not have kissing a bit, and move my face in front of hers. We lock eyes for moment and I’m trapped; held hostage by those effervescent green irises. In the low light I can see specks of gold in them, like sunshine on a field of clovers.
My heart is jumping against my ribs as I watch, ensnared, while she licks her lips.
“Alex…” I pant her name, so close the ends of our noses are touching. “I want… Fuck, you feel good like this…”
I have no idea what I’m saying. I don’t know why I’m talking at all right now, but I just have some mystifying need to voice to her what’s happening inside me. Because it feels foreign. And insanely good.
She whimpers, squirming in seemingly similar frustrations, her curious fingers grazing all over my neck, shoulders, jaw, chest… Her touch ignites a fire of need inside me.
What is this feeling?
“I…” Her voice trails off into a little gasp when I think she feels my cock throbbing against her exposed stomach.
“You’re driving me crazy…” I growl, pawing at her butt, squeezing gently and pulling her harder. “God, you’re so sexy.” She purrs by my mouth and I can already taste her; like scotch and honey.
“Noah…” she moans on my lips, and my dick pulses.
“Mmm… I love how you say my name.” Bodies, moving; slow and deep.
I need her in my bed tonight. I need her legs wrapped around my waist. I need to feel her warmth coating me while she scratches my back and says my fucking name the way she keeps saying it. I’m so wound up for this girl, lost in a haze of lust and hopeful fantasies.
“No, I… uh, I have to tell you something…” Her voice is meek and nervous.
Am I coming on too strong?
No way. I can feel her nipples on my chest through separate layers of clothing. She wants me, I know it.
“Please don’t tell me anything unless it’s that you’re coming home with me,” I tell her, salivating over her sweet, soft, shivering pink lips. Like two delicious pieces of candy, waiting for me to devour them.
Alex shakes her head subtly and I gaze down at her face, observing something uncertain flash in her eyes.
I run my fingers through her silky hair. “What’s wrong, beautiful? Am I moving too fast?”
My tone is nothing but sympathetic and gentle. I barely even recognize myself, and it’s worrying. This girl has me wrapped around her slender little finger, and I’m suddenly uneasy, as she also seems to be. She’s obviously overthinking something.
“No. Well, I mean, not really…” she huffs, blinking those wide eyes at me.
“You can tell me anything, Alex,” I assure her.
She freezes. We’re no longer humping, but we’re still melded together, unable to let go as I take a deep breath and wait.
“I’m married.”
The words fall out of her mouth like a bomb, exploding all the way down to the floor.
I’m stunned still. My face inches back as I stare, fully bewildered and ill-equipped to respond.
She’s married.
That’s a hard limit for me. As much as I tend to sleep around with all sorts of women, I draw the line at married chicks. I don’t want that kind of involvement. But my first gut reaction is to feel crushed. Disappointed and, wait for it… Jealous. Another thing I never feel.
So why on Earth am I feeling it now for this girl I just met, and the fact that she has a husband?
She has a fucking husband…? Really?? Who? Why? I don’t get it.
“Jesus,” I grunt, squeezing my eyes shut tight while I process this. “You weren’t wearing a ring…”
“I’m sorry,” Alex squeaks, and my eyes spring open to catch the look of remorse covering her perfectly lovely face. Her eyes shine up at mine with guilt swimming the edges. Well, I don’t want her to feel bad…
“No, I’m sorry,” I shake my head. “You must be dealing with something… rough and I sort of just… maneuvered myself into your situation…”
“Noah, you did not,” she says. “You’re so sweet and charming, and of course I wanted to hang out with you but…”
“You’re married.”
We’re no longer tangled and I briefly register how much colder I am without the warmth of her hot body draped around me.
Her hot married body…
Fuck. What the hell, man?!
I’m super bummed. I really like her. This blows.
“This is so embarrassing.” Her brows push together and she steps back. “I’m sorry I wasted your time…”
Before I can process what’s happening, she’s turned and is darting off, toward the back door.
What the fuck…? Don’t let her go.
So I sprint after her, dodging and weaving through people to catch up. She’s running away from me. And I’m chasing her.
This is not at all how I thought tonight would go.
Alex pushes open the door to the rear of the club and jumps outside into the alley. Stammering up to the back of her, I grab her arm and she winces, so I immediately let go. Shit, I didn’t grab her hard, did I?
“Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” I gasp, stepping in front of her. “Where are you going?”
“Noah, let me go…”
“Alex, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off judgy. Your marriage is your business -”
“That’s not what this is about!” She shouts, her nostrils flaring as she glares at me with hardened eyes.
I gulp. “Okay. I’m sorry. Look, I don’t care that you’re married. I still want to hang out with you.” What the hell am I saying right now? “We can be friends.”
Friends? Have you lost your mind?? Since when are you friends with married girls?!
“Friends?” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, embodying my internal thought process. “Really?”
“It’s not my usual MO, I’ll be honest,” I grin. “But I like you.”
“Exactly why we can’t be friends.”
“Are you saying you like me too?” I dip my head to catch a smile she’s clearly trying to cover up.
“Noah,” she scolds me with her eyes and I can’t help but smirk.
How come when she says my name it feels familiar? Like we’ve known each other for years?