their bet. He couldn’t even consider New Year’s. He couldn’t think past the blinding pain stabbing between his eyes, deep in his heart.
“I’m going to go take a shower, then we’ll do breakfast, okay?” She rose from the bed, pulling the sheet with her. Wrapping the flannel around her body, she left no scrap of flesh for him beneath her smooth shoulders.
Last night he’d seen every part of her, tasted and explored until she whimpered and begged. Yet this morning she hid from him, sneaking back behind the cape of friendship that had concealed her for four long years.
Eric wasn’t interested in breakfast. He wouldn’t be able to hold it in even if he did eat. He was sure it would fall out of the hole forming in his gut, the crater that expanded with each second she looked at him as if today was any normal day. Like he hadn’t spent the night buried inside her.
He heard the door to the bathroom shut, the tinkling of the shower mist as it hit the fiberglass and tile while Callie waited for the water to warm. Eric’s body started to warm as well, heating with an anger that expanded faster than gingerbread.
She couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t be so open and giving with him, showing him how much he loved her, deeper than even he’d known, and then tell him it was only for a night. After four years of friendship he deserved more. After four years of loving her from afar he needed more.
And he was going to get it.
Callie stepped into the shower, pushing her face under the hot mist, washing away the tears covering her cheeks. More fell, dropping down her face, indistinguishable from the jet’s spray. This was her moment to mourn, before she left the bathroom to spend the rest of their friendship pretending everything was the same. That she wasn’t half-dead, wilted like a tulip in December.
She didn’t know how she’d held it together until she escaped into the shower’s hot, stinging spray, but she was thankful for it. She’d been close to breaking into tears since the moment she woke to the bright golden sunlight, her night with Eric over.
She should be grateful for what he’d given her. One night with the man of her dreams. It was stupid to want more, but her heart had always been a dunce. Especially when it came to Eric.
If they had any hope of salvaging their friendship after everything they’d done last night, she had to hold it together. He couldn’t see her cry. He couldn’t know how much it hurt never to be with him like that again.
Eric was a kind and caring friend. If he knew her pain he might stay with her just to ease it. She couldn’t be with a man who didn’t truly love her. Not again. That he might only be with her out of pity was more painful than losing him entirely. At least this way she’d know, for this one night, he’d wanted to be with her, to give her a gift, out of friendship and love, not duty.
She heard the door jolt open, shaking in the frame, only to be slammed shut seconds later. Callie’s heartbeat multiplied, her body frozen forward, afraid of the shadow stalking behind her. Metal rings scraped the shower rod as the curtain was yanked open. The water splashed her face as she dipped her head under the jet. Praying the dunk would remove the remaining trace of the tears still lingering in her eyes, stinging behind her vision as Eric angrily reappeared, depriving her of solace.
Two large feet pounded the shower floor behind her. Eric grabbed her upper arm, using his whole strength to pull her back, spinning her to face him. Her stomach flopped at his rough treatment. His eyes dark, clouded with lust, and an anger she couldn’t understand.
He pushed her up against the tile wall, clasping her thighs in his hard grip. “Eric,” she screamed as he reared into her fast and deep. One hand grabbed her throat, pushing her head back against the white tile. The other held her hip, steadying her for his fast, deep, demanding thrusts.
Callie shouldn’t have
“I’m going to go take a shower, then we’ll do breakfast, okay?” She rose from the bed, pulling the sheet with her. Wrapping the flannel around her body, she left no scrap of flesh for him beneath her smooth shoulders.
Last night he’d seen every part of her, tasted and explored until she whimpered and begged. Yet this morning she hid from him, sneaking back behind the cape of friendship that had concealed her for four long years.
Eric wasn’t interested in breakfast. He wouldn’t be able to hold it in even if he did eat. He was sure it would fall out of the hole forming in his gut, the crater that expanded with each second she looked at him as if today was any normal day. Like he hadn’t spent the night buried inside her.
He heard the door to the bathroom shut, the tinkling of the shower mist as it hit the fiberglass and tile while Callie waited for the water to warm. Eric’s body started to warm as well, heating with an anger that expanded faster than gingerbread.
She couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t be so open and giving with him, showing him how much he loved her, deeper than even he’d known, and then tell him it was only for a night. After four years of friendship he deserved more. After four years of loving her from afar he needed more.
And he was going to get it.
Callie stepped into the shower, pushing her face under the hot mist, washing away the tears covering her cheeks. More fell, dropping down her face, indistinguishable from the jet’s spray. This was her moment to mourn, before she left the bathroom to spend the rest of their friendship pretending everything was the same. That she wasn’t half-dead, wilted like a tulip in December.
She didn’t know how she’d held it together until she escaped into the shower’s hot, stinging spray, but she was thankful for it. She’d been close to breaking into tears since the moment she woke to the bright golden sunlight, her night with Eric over.
She should be grateful for what he’d given her. One night with the man of her dreams. It was stupid to want more, but her heart had always been a dunce. Especially when it came to Eric.
If they had any hope of salvaging their friendship after everything they’d done last night, she had to hold it together. He couldn’t see her cry. He couldn’t know how much it hurt never to be with him like that again.
Eric was a kind and caring friend. If he knew her pain he might stay with her just to ease it. She couldn’t be with a man who didn’t truly love her. Not again. That he might only be with her out of pity was more painful than losing him entirely. At least this way she’d know, for this one night, he’d wanted to be with her, to give her a gift, out of friendship and love, not duty.
She heard the door jolt open, shaking in the frame, only to be slammed shut seconds later. Callie’s heartbeat multiplied, her body frozen forward, afraid of the shadow stalking behind her. Metal rings scraped the shower rod as the curtain was yanked open. The water splashed her face as she dipped her head under the jet. Praying the dunk would remove the remaining trace of the tears still lingering in her eyes, stinging behind her vision as Eric angrily reappeared, depriving her of solace.
Two large feet pounded the shower floor behind her. Eric grabbed her upper arm, using his whole strength to pull her back, spinning her to face him. Her stomach flopped at his rough treatment. His eyes dark, clouded with lust, and an anger she couldn’t understand.
He pushed her up against the tile wall, clasping her thighs in his hard grip. “Eric,” she screamed as he reared into her fast and deep. One hand grabbed her throat, pushing her head back against the white tile. The other held her hip, steadying her for his fast, deep, demanding thrusts.
Callie shouldn’t have
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