CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Fringe
I have a roaring headache and a raging hardon. Not the best of combinations.
Running my hands through my hair and scratching my scalp, I shuffle to the bathroom and down a few aspirin. Bracing my hands on the sides of the cold porcelain sink, I lower my head and take a few deep breaths. The aspirins want to come back up but I really need them to stay down and do their job.
I am so fucking tired of hangovers. I vow this will be my last one, and then I vow to make sure I keep the first vow. If my head didn’t hurt so bad, I’d be laughing at myself.
Absently, my hand reaches down to scratch my balls. My cock wants attention. My head wants to explode. Since I can’t do anything more about my head, I give in to my baser needs and strip out of my jockeys.
Turning the shower on full blast until the heat fills the room with a humid fog, I step in. With the hot water streaming down the back of my head, loosening up my back muscles, I take my dick in hand and stroke it in an easy, unhurried rhythm. It’s been a while since I gave myself release—at least four or five days, unheard of!—and I want this to last. I let my imagination run wild.
A haze of red appears before my eyes and quickly focuses into a glorious mane of curls. Angie? No, her hair is short.
This is Dawn standing in my bathroom, her back to me, naked, the sweet curve of her perfectly rounded ass beckoning. Slowly, she turns her head to gaze over her shoulder, a devilishly tantalizing smile on her lips, heavenly green eyes sparkling. Fuck, she’s sexy.
My cock springs to life, instantly harder than ever. I groan and the sound ends in a growl.
Dawn turns fully and I take her in with famished eyes. Her tits, perfectly sized for my hands, are only inches away and I want to cup them, caress them.
“C’mere.” The word is a rumble in my throat, and she steps into the shower and comes around behind me, teasing with her fingertips on my flesh. Goose bumps flair under her touch, and despite the hot water, I shiver. Water rains down on her turning her ringlets into streaming cords of flowing hair. I turn to her as she lifts her hands to run them through her scarlet locks, making her tits point upward.
I have to have her. Now.
“Come here.” This time my words are a demand, and she quickly takes the couple of steps necessary to stand right before me.
When she raises her eyes to mine, in them I see hunger, need, desperation—a reflection of everything I’m feeling. This strengthens my desire and I grab her ass with both hands and pull her against me.
A little squeak escapes her lips when my cock presses into her belly.
Kneading her ass cheeks, I lift her slightly to give her the friction she craves. Her eyes flutter, her mouth forming a perfect little o. I dip my head, take her lips and ravage her mouth, forcing my tongue inside, much like I want to do—soon will do—with my cock. She probes my mouth with her tongue and our tongues tangle and explore.
Dawn rubs her mound over my hard-on, the little vixen demanding more attention. I oblige by bringing a hand around and slipping it between her legs. I don’t give her a chance to object and plunge a finger into her warm, slick channel. She tenses around my digit and it makes my cock harder, so I draw it out then in, each time faster until I’m finger fucking her relentlessly.
She breaks the kiss, her expression one of wide-eyed shock and wonderment. “I need you, Fringe.” She wraps her arms around me, grasping my back and ass, digging her nails in. “It’s you, it has to be you. You’re the one. Now. Please.”
I groan, her words waking the primal beast within me. This is what I’ve craved—a clear sign of her desire, her longing for me, only me. It rips through me like a whirlwind and I pull my finger from her. She whines in protest but I smile, a baring of teeth. I’m the predator and have my prey cornered, steam enveloping us in its embrace. I’ve never felt so powerful. Taking Dawn by the shoulders, I press her against the cool tiled shower wall, savagely spreading her legs with my knee.
“You want me?” My voice is rough with need.
She nods, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You know I do.”
No more hesitation, I plunge my cock deep into her.
She’s hot and tight and I revel in taking her like this, being her first, making me the one she’ll always remember.
She lets out a gasp, which turns into a keening so full of need that I hilt in her again. I’m wild, crazed, rational thought gone. She’s the same, clawing at my back, biting down on my neck as I plunge in, drag myself back out of her. Hard, fast. Flat against the wall, she can’t escape my onslaught, but I know she doesn’t want to.
“More, Fringe, more. Now, harder!” Her voice is a throaty rasp.
Taking her hands in one of mine, I raise them above her head, pinning them in place, and bend to suck a tight bud into my mouth as I slow my hips a fraction, drawing out then back into her tight warmth. With my free hand, I take a firm hold of her other breast and caress it, stroking the nipple with my thumb. She stops breathing and convulses around me. Grabbing her hip, I ratchet my speed back up, pounding into her until I’m unable to catch my breath.
“Come for me,” I punctuate each word with a hard stroke then return to her nipple, teasing it with my teeth, “baby doll.”
“Harder.” The whites of her eyes flash and I hilt ever deeper, grunting with the effort to hold back.
At last, her body stiffens. My balls respond by becoming tight, almost painful. “That’s it, let yourself go.”
Her inner walls clench down on my throbbing cock. We’re both so close. I need her to get there. Releasing her hip, I find her clit and stroke it in time with the in and out of my cock.
“Oh god!” she screams, thrashing wildly as I plunge as deep in her as possible. As a torrential ball of energy races out of me and into her, her face contorts in exquisite pain. I crush my body against hers, letting go of her hands. She wraps her arms around me, shuddering in her climax, my balls still emptying into her.
At last the fevered pitch slows, recedes, and I become conscious of the water beating down, the heat starting to cool. Trying to catch my breath, I look at Dawn but she’s faded, become a shimmer that disappears into the mist. It’s not Dawn against the shower wall, it was never her. It is only me, lost in a fantasy so real I ache for its return.
Chest heaving, I release my spent cock, letting the water wash away my seed.
It takes a long time to come down and I’m utterly exhausted when I finally push away from the wall, shut off the water, and step out of the shower. To my surprised delight, I find that my hangover is mostly gone, but I feel like I could sleep for a week. My throat is parched. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I head to the kitchen for something to drink.
Downing almost a full liter of bottled water, I gasp for breath, unexpected laughter billowing up and out of my throat. I feel good—calm and relaxed—better than I have for days.
And all it took was to fantasy fuck my best friend.
My cell phone chirps, a call coming in, and I stride through the apartment in search of it. Finding it on the floor by the couch, I swipe it on.
“Hi, Fringe!” The voice is upbeat and friendly, almost too exuberant. Angie.
“Hey.” I’m not sure how to react, what to say. She’s the one who cooled off after that disastrous LA party. I can’t blame her, but still, I’m a man and have my pride and all that shit.
“Look, umm, sorry about flaking on you. I’d like to explain. Is it okay if I stop by a little later today?” She sounds nervous and like she’s overcompensating.
I’m surprised, to say the least. I’m still flying high from my phantom Dawn fucking and my gut reaction is to say no, but curiosity gets the better of me. “Yeah, sure, I guess. I’ll be around.”
“Okay, great!” Her voice is full of relief. “I’ll see you later.”
She disconnects and I’m left standing in a room that smells like a brewery, wondering what the fuck is going on.
Why do I have the sinking feeling that I just made a big mistake?