FIFTEEN
JUST SEX
Sex.
It’s a primal, ancient instinct stamped into every corner of our DNA. We must screw to survive.
But sex is greedy. Addictive.
It’s an infinite, aching appetite that reduces us to base impulses capable of clouding all reason and logic.
It’s instinctual.
Simple.
Except when it’s not.
After the initial shock of waking up in bed together wears off, Ethan and I talk. Agree that it was a mistake. That we couldn’t and shouldn’t do it again.
Ever.
Then we screw two more times and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Yep.
Simple, this is not.
“So…”
“Yeah. So…”
We’ve made it as far as the front door. After several failed attempts, he’s wearing clothes, and I’m wearing a robe. His hair is ridiculous. Mine is even more so. I look like Hagrid if he’d been electrocuted in a wind tunnel. Ethan’s looking at me as if he’d like to do very bad things to Hagrid.
The urge to touch him again is swelling like the tide under a full moon. It’s vaguely ridiculous.
“I’d better go.”
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t move. Neither do I. We know we have to. We can’t do it again. I hurt everywhere. He’s given me scruff rash on every inch of exposed skin, as well as some that isn’t so exposed.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Fifteen minutes ago we were fitting together in the very definition of rightness, gripping each other through countless layers of pleasure. But now? Here comes the awkward. The separation.
Walls and masks and tectonic plates of emotion slide back into safe formations. Stand us on our feet. Tilt us away from each other once more.
Whisper to us that it was just sex.
Just sex.
He opens the door then pauses. “So … is it going to be weird between us now?”
“You mean more weird No.”
He nods. “No. Exactly. I mean, it was just breakup sex, right? Everyone does it.”
“Right.” Just sex. “We might have waited a little longer than most, but it’s totally normal.”
“It’s out of our systems now, so, we can … you know … move on.”
“Yeah. Absolutely. Move on.”
He inhales and stares at the exposed flesh my robe reveals.
He talks to my boobs. “See you Monday?” At last he makes it up to my face.
I want to tell him to stop it. The longing that’s peeking out. It’s too much. This was just sex.
“Yep. See you then.”
He hesitates, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he hugs me and buries his head in my neck. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but it feels like thank you and I’m sorry all wrapped up in one.
It makes me feel things. Buried and bound things.
I push him away. I don’t want him to go, but I need him to.
He seems to understand. Shoves his hands in his pockets and lets out a disbelieving sigh.
“You smell like me. Like me and … sex.”
He fingers the tie of my robe. “I mean, you’ve always smelled like sex to me, but today … you smell like the very definition of incredible, earth-moving, seeing-the-face-of-God sex.”
This man. Forever stealing my breath.
We have a moment of maybe once more before we both realize there’s no way. Our bodies are done.
I push him out the door. “Get out while you can. Thanks for all the sex.”
All the just sex.
“Yeah. Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
After I close the door, I collapse against it, breathless and aching. I expect the regret and bitterness to swallow me, but strangely, it doesn’t. Instead, I’m smiling.
I did it. I fucked Ethan Holt and survived. Thrived, even. And now, I’m too filled with satisfaction to regret what we did.
Later, I feel bad when I take a shower and change my sheets, but it’s only because I can’t smell him on me anymore.
It’s at that moment a dull ticking starts up inside me. It pulses in my blood and keeps time with my heart. When I think of Ethan, it speeds up.
A countdown clock. A slow detonator.
Cataloguing the seconds until he makes me explode again.
When Ruby arrives home mid-afternoon, she flops down next to me on the couch.
“Hey.”
She also has Hagrid hair and a satisfied smile. Seems good sex looks the same on everyone.
My hair’s washed. I’ve untangled the sex knots.
No one would ever know that just five hours ago, Holt had it wrapped around his hands as he took me from behind.
“Hey,” I say and push the image away. “Have a good night?”
She stretches. “Oh, yeah. God, there is nothing … and I mean nothing to relieve tension like riding a hot piece of man-meat all night. It’s like a full-body massage from the inside out. You really need to try it one of these days. I know you think Buzz is all you need right now, but honey … there’s only so much fake dick a girl can take before she needs to rumble with the real deal.”
He tugs my head back and grips my hip to hold me in place as he thrusts, strong and deep. He hits unexpected places inside me. Kisses my shoulder as I swear and call out his name.
I eat a spoonful of yogurt and try to keep my face impassive. “Uh-huh.”
She leans against me. “So, what did you get up to after the party? The usual? Book and bed?”
I nod. “Yep. You know me. Boring old Cassie.”
I lower myself onto him, prideful as I watch his eyes roll back into his head. My body trembles with the effort of containing this power. This magnificent, confident version of myself. Sex-Goddess Cassie. I ride him slowly, drag him to the edge of climax so often he starts to beg. Punish him by weaponizing his pleasure. Reward him by letting him see mine. Time and again.
“Poor baby,” Ruby says as she snuggles up to me. “You need sex.”
I fan myself. My blood is pumping way too fast. Too close to the surface. Hot and demanding.
“Yeah, well. Maybe one day.”
I don’t know why I don’t tell her. Maybe because she’d take it the wrong way and think Ethan and I are getting back together, when we’re absolutely not. Or maybe because she’d confirm it was the worst thing I could have done.
Whatever her reaction, I don’t want it right now. I just want to enjoy this feeling of relative bliss. Before Ethan drove me home last night, I was miserable and lonely, and today I feel … empowered. Like a sexual genius. I did things to Ethan I’d only ever dreamed about. I made him shudder. Groan and plead. I dominated him and let him dominate me in return. I was able to give him pleasure like no one else ever has. Then I made him admit it and brought him completely undone.
After being powerless for so long, I finally feel like I have some control.
And what’s more, I managed to have him without drowning in unwanted emotion. I kept myself shielded and protected, even while he filled me in ways no other man ever will.
Sexual catharsis? Is there such a thing?
If so, that’s what Ethan and I shared.
I just wonder how long it will be until we both need to be purged again.
Monday morning. I walk to class feeling a thousand feet tall. I still hurt, but it only serves to remind me of my power. I’m Aphrodite. A force of nature, ready to be worshipped.
I should be nervous about seeing Ethan, but I’m not. Whatever happens, I can deal with it. I’ll smile if he shuts me down, because I’ll know he won’t be able to resist me for long. I own him. And he knows it.
I walk into class and immediately feel him staring at me. He looks angry.
Wait, not angry.
Hungry.
He glances away, but it’s only a few seconds before he’s back. Surprised. Awed.
The tick-tock inside me speeds up. Gives me a powerful thrill. I’d kind of expected him to retreat back into his emotionally distant shell, but for once, he’s not being totally predictable.
I like it.
With only a trace of his trademark fear, he gives me a lusty half smile. I give one back. I feel like we’re collaborators in a private joke. No one else has any idea what happened between us, but if he keeps looking at me like that, they’re going to realize pretty damn quickly.
I walk past him and whisper, “Stop undressing me with your eyes.”
He whispers back, “Would you rather I do it with my hands? Or teeth?”
Oh, this is interesting. He wants to play? Fine. For once, I’m confident I’ll win.
“How’s your penis?”
“You don’t know by now? It’s magnificent.”
“So conceited. I meant, are you sore?”
“Oh. Yeah. There’s definite … chafing. He’s exhausted, to be honest. I doubt I’ll ever be hard again.”
I give him a slow smile. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“It’s really not.”
I accidentally/on purpose drop my book and bend over in front of him to pick it up.
Then I glance behind me to see him wincing and adjusting himself.
My work here is done.
The rest of the class chatters and moves around us, oblivious. We barely register on their radar anymore. We’re old news.
If only they knew.
I sit down, and when I turn back to Ethan, he’s crossed his legs and is staring at his shoes, his face still painted with discomfort. And arousal.
It looks good on him.
“I thought we agreed it was a mistake,” he says, not looking at me.
“We did.”
“Then why do I get the impression you’d like to do it again? Right now.”
I whisper, “Even if I do, it doesn’t mean I’m going to. I’m not that stupid.”
“Oh.”
“You look disappointed.”
“Nope. Just … you know … relieved.”
I lean closer so my mouth is right next to his ear. I know what I’m doing. If this were chess, I’d be demolishing his queen right about now. “Relieved I won’t be taking you in my mouth again? Riding you? Scraping my nails down your back as I come?”
In the past, I never really understood why girls play games and use their gender and sex appeal to get what they want.
I understand it now.
Sometimes sex is the only thing that will bring a man to his knees. And sometimes, it does a girl good to know that after losing so much, she can occasionally win.
After seeing how affected Holt is by my words, I sit back, triumphant.
He closes his eyes. Then he adjusts himself again. “Yep. Definitely relieved none of that is going to happen again. So very … happy … about that.”
“Good.”
Checkmate.
It doesn’t escape my attention that he’s hard for nearly the entire lecture.