It seemed as if the room would never stop spinning. Vanessa almost felt drunk and sick from the events that had occurred after last night’s reunion. Not sick in the way that she felt like running to the bathroom and vomiting, but in the way that she felt like she would die a very slow and painful death in her bed all alone that morning if she didn’t come to a decision about her life soon and the people in it.
She rolled over on her stomach and clutched her pillow tight, pulling it beneath her chin and pressing down hard as she momentarily shut her eyes. She began thinking of Maurice’s lips and how they felt against her own when he kissed her last night, after she had finally returned home from her office, a place where she sought solace but found nothing but regret.
She remembered how he kissed her and why, how his mouth tasted and the sweetness of his lips. She remembered the feel of his skin as he melted against her own like butter, and the enticing yet strong scent of cinnamon and sweat as it filled her nostrils. She remembered how he thrust himself between her legs, how she liked it when she felt the size of his dick expanding against her pussy, and how much she never wanted any of it to stop.
Her eyes popped open when she remembered him walking away from her, following that insanely additive kiss; the look on his face as he headed upstairs was challenging her to follow him not only into his heart, but to his bed. But she didn’t. She couldn’t even if she had wanted to because he wasn’t the only man she had been enamored with that night. She knew she couldn’t truly give herself to her best friend of fifteen years in any way without knowing exactly where things stood with the former love of her life, Nathan.
The thoughts of them together forced her on her back. She stared up at the ceiling and remembered the time spent with him in her office, where he had come to visit on the heels of his fiancée Sheila tossing him out after a fight about Vanessa in their hotel room, following the reunion. She wanted him to go, she begged for him to leave her alone and to return to his future wife instead.
But her words fell on deaf ears, which didn’t seem to matter seeing as they didn’t match her body language when he touched her; or her lustful reaction when he slipped his hands into her hair and softly whispered into her ear how much he knew she still wanted him, even after all this time and all that he had done to her.
She didn’t want to admit that he was right; or to come between her thighs as she gave into the temptation of his kiss when he pressed his tongue against hers with such eagerness, as if he had been dying of thirst and she was his only chance for survival; as if he had been dreaming of that moment for the last five years, or all of the one-thousand-six-hundred-and-forty-two days he had missed being near her, according to him.
She couldn’t stop herself from becoming completely enamored when he wrapped his arms around her waist, no matter how much she tried not to. She couldn’t stop herself from nearly making love to him on top of her desk. And with walls made of glass from one side of the room to the other, it was open enough for the entire world to see down below if they wanted a free show.
She couldn’t help how her heart fluttered at the thought of being his again, even though she knew she shouldn’t, even though she knew it was a mistake that would lead to more heartache than she had experienced in high school when they broke up. But last night, he felt like her everything all over again, as if nothing had changed between them, as if they were still together as one. Realizing he still wanted her as much as she wanted him was all she ever wanted, and now she finally had it.
Except she didn’t. Because he wasn’t available to her in that way anymore, and she had to wonder if despite their past relationship, if despite everything that occurred last night, if he ever really was. If he could so easily be with Sheila behind her back when they were together, and with her behind Sheila’s now, what did they ever really have? Was it ever something real, legitimate? Or was it just a good time had by everyone but her?
When she heard a loud knock on her door, she panicked at the sound and popped up like a wind-up jack-in-the-box, tossing her hair around her back and grabbing at her chest. Her blankets fell to her waist as she looked over at the clock sitting on her nightstand. She opened her eyes wide when she saw that it was almost one in the afternoon, because she had been awake since 9am.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Maurice.” His deep voice rattled against the door, sending enormous vibrations inside the room and straight through to Vanessa’s heart.
Oh shit. She slapped her hand to her head and cringed in pain; her face was still sore from the fight with Sheila that had occurred in the ballroom before everything else following their reunion happened to hit the fan.
She lightly pressed her hands against her cheeks to ease the stinging and closed her eyes. She cleared her throat to lower the nerves building inside her chest and breathed out. “Um, yeah?” She hadn’t spoken to Maurice since he disappeared into his room and she wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him today, if she could even manage to say more than a few words.
“It’s one in the afternoon,” he told her. “Do you plan on coming out of there anytime soon? I know you had a lot to drink, but you were pretty lucid before bed.”
“Um, yeah -- yeah,” she answered quickly. Of course I was lucid, your tongue made damn sure of that, she thought. “I know. At some point I plan on getting up and out. I was just really tired, you know, the reunion and everything kinda wore me out.” She paused, hoping it would be enough to convince him that she wasn’t talking about him when she said ‘everything’.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, though it sounded more like a sigh. He lay his hand against the door, recalling their night together. He wondered if that would be the last time they danced as friends or anything more; if his kissing her in their den downstairs would be the one and only time he would ever know the taste of her lips, and the feel of her tongue against his. He couldn’t take it if it were; that kiss was all he thought of as he slept. Being in love with someone that you weren’t entirely sure could ever love you back in the same way, even if you were confident that they should, wasn’t the easiest feat in the world, and Maurice Livingston knew it all too well. He swallowed back his thoughts and curled his fingers inside his palm before removing it from her door. He stood straight and nodded. “Alright.” He turned his eyes to the floor and crinkled his brows. “I cooked you some breakfast if you want it.”
“Ok! Great! Thanks!” she hollered.
He noticed the enthusiasm in her voice and knew she didn’t mean it, she couldn’t after having been in bed for that long. He waited a few seconds, staring at her door, before finally heading back downstairs and to the kitchen.
She dropped back on her headboard, her heart pounding against her chest. She looked down and pressed her hand against it to keep it from protruding straight through to the other side. That was normal, right? she wondered. Subtle. She wasn’t sure if she was coming off more insane than usual and he took note, leaving instead of asking more questions, or if he wasn’t able to tell a thing in that entire conversation -- how nervous she was to talk to him after finally realizing that she could no longer hide feelings for him that went so far beyond friendship that she was in a zone she didn’t even know existed.
Beyond lust or sex, it was a bit deeper, more catastrophic and dangerous for her heart, but in a way that made her tingle with excitement, made her palms sweat with frequency, her stomach fill with more butterflies than an insect factory and her pussy as wet as an oil slick. It was a mixture of such strange, yet powerful emotions, almost like a death but the exhilaration of being brought back to life just a few seconds later.
She thought back, trying to recall if this was what it felt like to fall in love for the first time. It had been too long for her to remember. She didn’t know how to react to something like this anymore, what to do or say -- it all felt so very new to her even though it wasn’t. These were feelings that Maurice had convinced himself were always inside of her, possibly even before she began dating Nathan, though he could never be too sure until last night when he thought he was finally certain. He was sure that today would test that theory for them both once and for all.
As she jumped from the bed and readied herself in the mirror, she looked down at her breasts, taking note of her nipples as they had risen at just the sound of Maurice’s voice. She figured she should wear something more appropriate while around him now, at least until she figured out what the hell was going on inside her head and heart. A baby doll top with matching silk shorts so small they barely covered her ample ass were probably not the best thing to showcase right now, not when she had already been giving so many mixed signals as it was.
Walking out in this was sure to drive him even crazier than she already had throughout the entirety of their friendship. Not to mention, he had never seen her in anything less than jean shorts and a loose tank top. She may have taken a few peeks at him in the shower from time to time while she got ready for work, but he was sure to never do the same unless she welcomed it. She quickly changed into an oversized sweatshirt and a long pair of leggings and knitted socks, then took a few deep breaths, prayed for her sins, and headed downstairs.
Available HERE! Release March 10!!!!