Inhale, Exhale (7 page)

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Authors: Sarah M. Ross

BOOK: Inhale, Exhale
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“Let’s go.”

Neither of us was in any shape to drive, so we took a taxi back to my place. I had her shirt off before the front door was closed. The rest of our clothes quickly followed suit. She was sexy, with giant fake boobs and a tight ass, but she wasn’t beautiful. I’d only come across one girl who fit that criterion lately.
Damn it! Stop thinking about her!

Her hands rubbed my chest, following the little path of hair down below my waist. She gripped me tight, almost painfully, as she fell to her knees and began to lick. “Do you have…?”

“Top drawer.” I could only imagine where else her mouth had been, and there was no way I was having sex with her without protection.

She found my stash, quickly rolling one on me as she continued to lick and suck. It was…pleasant, but not earth shattering. I fisted my hands into her hair, guiding her and hoping she’d start doing something that would make me forget about the girl I actually wanted in my bed. It didn’t work, but it kept me hard. Apparently, my cock didn’t actually care who was there.

I closed my eyes as we fell into my bed, and I allowed her to take control. She seemed much more into this than I was.

“God, baby, your arm’s are huge. So strong. We should do this standing up with you holding me.” Her hands ran up and down my body as she grinded against me.

“Um, no. Just keep going.” My body reciprocated her touches, but it wasn’t on fire.

This is what I need
, I tried to convince myself.
Just a quick lay that I never have to think about again. Someone to take the edge off so I can refocus my priorities.

I opened my eyes, but it wasn’t the bimbo I saw. It was Jillian. My eyes focused on those pouty lips, begging to be sucked, slightly apart as she panted on top of me. Her long hair fell down past her shoulders, the ends tickling those perky nipples. I groaned at the sight, reaching my hand around the back of her head to pull her closer to me.

She squealed as she shoved her tongue down my throat, almost choking me. The fantasy disappeared as I realized it wasn’t really Jillian. Ugh. I needed to get this over with and get this girl out of here. But it would take forever if I had to keep staring at her.

I flipped her over and pushed her up on her knees, hoping a change of positions would allow my fantasy to come back. I closed my eyes, allowing the image of Jillian to return.

“Oh yeah. Take me, baby,” the bimbo chanted.

“Shh! Don’t talk.” I grumbled, pushing her face into the mattress a little. Not enough to hurt or suffocate, but enough to keep her quiet. Her scratchy voice would not help me get the job done.

I thought of the little strip of skin on Jillian’s back that she exposed the other day. Milky white and soft as butter. I rubbed my hands on the spot, sliding them up her waist, cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples into tight buds.

It was exactly the image I needed, and I finished with a roar.

I stayed still for a few seconds, calming my breath again and withdrew, heading straight for the shower and disposing of the condom on the way. There would be no cuddling tonight. In fact, I hoped she’d be gone by the time I got out.

Ten minutes later, as the hot water cascaded over my back, I heard the front door close. “Thank God,” I mumbled. I turned the water off and reached for my towel. As I stepped out of the shower, there was a note on my bathroom mirror written in lipstick. It read, “Had lots of fun! Call me! XOXO” and had her phone number with her lip prints below.

“Not likely,” I muttered before I crawled into bed naked and fell sound asleep.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

This past week had been the longest in my recent memory and now that it was finally Friday, I couldn’t wait to not have to think about Allegro—or its cute employees—for two whole days. While I’d started to get the hang of the phone system, my computer had crashed three times, forcing me to call IT to send someone to fix it.

And—of course—each time it had been Grant who came to fix it. It was a strange juxtaposition. Each time I saw him and spent time with him—even ten minutes or so—I found myself enjoying our witty conversation and sarcastic banter. Christian never laughed at my jokes like that. He didn’t always get a lot of the literary allusions or historical references I made. It wasn’t that he was stupid, but school was never his thing. Of course, then I’d think of Christian and knots of guilt formed in my gut.

“Are you sure you’re not breaking it just so I can come back out here? ‘Cause if you want to see me, you don’t have to break expensive equipment to get my attention,” Grant said earlier that day. It was the third time I’d had to call IT, and the third time I’d gotten to see the mischievous smile on his face as he walked toward me.

“No, I promise you. I really am this dumb.” I winked playfully, allowing myself to flirt for a minute. It was harmless, right? I’d never actually act on it.

“I’m pretty sure the fact you can say that sentence in several other languages suggests otherwise.”

“Sono davvero questo stupido,” I repeated in Italian.

Grant ran a knuckle down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps along the path. “Beautiful,” he said in a whispered breath. My own breathing hitched at his words. “See? Like I said, not a dumb bone in you.”

The all-too-familiar blush crept back onto my face. “You don’t know me that well.”

“I’d like to change that. What are you doing tonight? A bunch of us from work are going to this beach party. I’d love it if you could come.”

For a moment, I pictured myself there. Laughing and having fun around a bonfire and splashing in the ocean. Grant in his board shorts that would hang low, revealing that deep V I was sure was there. But then I snapped out of it, remembering how inappropriate my thoughts were. “I have a boyfriend. I can’t.”

“It’s not a date, Jillian. Just a group of friends hanging out.” He packed up his supplies, but paused before leaving. He stared deeply into my eyes, making my palms sweat. Leaning in close, he whispered in my ear. “If I were asking you out, it wouldn’t be with a group of people. It would be only us—alone—so I wouldn’t have anything from distracting me from admiring every nook and cranny on your beautiful face, Cupcake.”

I swallowed down the lump that formed in my throat. My mouth had gone dry; I was unable to form a thought, let alone words.

“Here.” He reached out and gently took my hand. “I’ll do this old school since you don’t like technology.”

My mouth opened, but I couldn’t respond. I stared at him as he took out a pen. He picked up my tiny hand, which shook slightly, and held it in his own. The contact was slight, but powerful. I was frozen in place as he wrote on my palm. The only movement came from my heart that pounded in my chest. Before he let go, he gently blew on the ink to help it dry, causing me to emit the faintest of moans.

“In case you change your mind,” he whispered, then winked and walked away.

Later that night, as I piled pillows on the floor and popped bags of popcorn for my
Twilight
movie marathon with Ava and Trish, I found my mind wandering to what Grant had said. I had never wanted to lean in and kiss someone so badly in my entire life. Even though my first kiss with Christian was electric, the anticipation of kissing Grant blew that out of the water.

I rubbed my temples.
I cannot think this way!
I have a wonderful, supportive, sweet boyfriend who loves me. I can’t keep thinking of Grant. It’s wrong
, I chastised myself.
I only want him because it’s new and forbidden. The grass is not greener! He’s probably a jerk once you get to know him
.

I picked up the phone, needing to hear Christian’s voice to reassure me. I’d tried to ditch my friends to see him tonight, knowing it was his only free night all weekend, but he’d made other plans already with his surfing buddies. They were going to hear some band play in Jacksonville, hoping to open for them on an upcoming tour. Besides, both Ava and Trish would be leaving first thing Monday morning for two weeks of being camp counselors, and it was our last chance to hang out.

Christian picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, babe. I’m heading out, so I can’t talk.”

I heard a lot of noise in the background, including several giggling girls, making my stomach tighten. “Where are you?”

“We’re backstage at the club meeting the band. There’s a ton of people, so I can’t really hear you. Hold on.” He tried to muffle the sound, but I could still hear him whisper, “Chill for a sec, it’s my girlfriend,” before coming back on the line. “Can we talk later? Now’s not the best time”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice for a few minutes and tell you I love you.”

“You too. Gotta run, bye!”

I sighed as he hung up and went to add some cheese to the popcorn. I didn’t quite get the reaffirmation of our love I was hoping for, but I knew he loved me. Even if he didn’t always show it.

All night, as I watched the movies and the struggle Bella had choosing between Edward and Jacob, I couldn’t help think about Grant. But by the start of
Breaking Dawn
, I found myself nodding along and crying as Bella and Edward married. He was her one true love, there from the start and the one she was meant to be with—just like I was supposed to be with Christian.

Tears poured out of my eyes as they were pronounced man and wife, and Trish paused the DVD.

“All right, chica, who peed in your Cheerios? You’ve been distant and emotional all night. This is more than you daydreaming. What’s up? You PMSing?” Ava handed me a tissue to wipe the mascara that had run down my face.

“This isn’t like you. Should we be worried? You’re not preggo are you?”

“No! Jeez, I just had a bad week at work. It’s nothing.”

Ava and Trish held a silent conversation, but both nodded and accepted me at my word. I was sure they knew it wasn’t nothing, but they also knew me well enough to know I wasn’t ready to talk about what bothered me.

Ava got up and put the final DVD into the player, giving me a free minute. I went to the restroom and splashed cold water on my face.

Get a grip, Jill
, I admonished myself in the mirror.
This whole thing is stupid, and when you’re married happily to Christian, you’ll look back on this, and laugh
. I took a deep breath and dried my face before returning to my friends.

As I snuggled up with the teddy bear Christian had won me at the carnival two years ago, I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my phone and texted him.

Me + U nxt wknd? Miss you! Xoxo

He responded back as I was drifting to sleep.

Sure. Still up 4 camping?

I sighed. He knew I hated camping, but at least we’d be alone together. I replied, telling him I’d go, and then, before I could stop myself, I entered Grant’s number into my contacts before scrubbing it off my hand, thankful Ava or Trish hadn’t seen it yet and questioned me. I wasn’t going to call him; I kept it there in case of a technical emergency.

Yeah, even I didn’t buy that lie.

The weekend flew by in a blur. I didn’t get to see Christian at all, and I really missed him. I needed some alone time with him and was already counting down the days until we went camping that weekend.

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