Chapter Seven
Brett
The gym smelled like chlorine, rubber, and a faint hint of body odor. Sweat was rolling down my neck and back, and my muscles ached, but I didn’t stop. I’d done three extra rotations as it was, and I was still turned on as fuck.
Hoping that a good workout would take the edge off, I’d gone in early that morning, but failed in my mission to get sex and Sophia off my brain. Sex with Sophia, more accurately.
Christ, she’d felt so incredible against me. Soft and so damn responsive.
The little sounds that I didn’t even think she realized she was making played on repeat in my head like the soundtrack to that fucking fantastic kiss. A not insignificant part of me had wanted to punch Mark for interrupting us, throw her over my shoulder, and bury myself balls deep into her for several days, but that was my dick talking.
It was my favorite appendage, but it didn’t know how disastrous the consequences would’ve been. So instead, I’d listened to my big brain and did the sensible thing. But that didn’t mean that it hadn’t been torturous, sitting in her living room and listening to Mark drone on about some or other chick he had his sights set on, while knowing that Sophia and her sweet body were right down the hall.
In her bedroom. Doing god only knew what. If she was half as turned on as I’d been, I knew exactly what I’d have been doing if I had the luxury of disappearing into my bedroom after that kiss. And the thought of it did fuck all to calm my raging hard-on.
Somehow, I’d managed to keep Mark talking until I was in a state to walk again, and I made an excuse to leave. Once I got home, I made an online reservation at a swanky hotel downtown for Friday night, jerked off twice, and fell asleep with fantasies of exactly what I was going to do to her when I got her to that hotel room playing in my mind.
I was on a slippery slope, and I knew it. Completing a jerk-off hat trick to images of my best friend’s little sister in the shower that morning was more than enough to tip me off. But I wasn’t backing out of the deal I’d made with Sophia.
And the damn devil, for that matter. I was fully committed to being the one who rid said best friend’s little sister of her virginity. I was going straight to hell for it in all likelihood. It had to be in the bible or the Bro Code somewhere.
Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.
It felt like I’d had the air knocked out of me when she first asked me, but then my cock joined the party, and I hadn’t stood a chance. Besides, the stab in my gut at the thought of some asshole ruining something as special as her first time or, god forbid, hurting her, had pushed me over the edge. Then she said that thing about trusting me, and it was game over.
I caved faster than I ever would’ve thought, and I’d never been happier that I had. I honestly couldn’t wait to get inside her.
My mind was a filthy damn place that day, but there was nothing to be done about it. I was considering whether turning one time into one weekend would violate our agreement when my phone buzzed on the floor by my feet.
Mark flipping me the bird in freshman year of college glowered up at me from my screen and guilt hit me square in the chest, but I ignored it and reached for the phone.
“Miss me already, Love?”
Mark snorted and scoffed. “You wish. So listen. You up for a couple of drinks at the Fox tonight? I’m in the mood to get wasted, and I need someone to share my hangover with tomorrow.”
“You say the nicest things to me,” I joked. “But yeah, let’s do it. Seven?”
Being around Mark wasn’t all that much fun for me, since it made me feel like shit for all my dirty thoughts about fucking his sister, but if I refused suddenly, he would start asking questions. There was also the added benefit that if I went with him tonight, he wouldn’t be too interested in going out tomorrow night. Which meant that I’d be in the clear for my night with Soph.
“Seven works for me. See you there.”
The line went dead, and I shoved my phone in my pocket, giving up on the workout. It was time to get to the office anyway. After a quick shower and donning my corporate armor, I shot a quick text to Sophia.
Me: Booked a suite at the Madison tomorrow night. That work for you?
My phone buzzed with her reply just as I got to my car. I slid in behind the wheel, glad that I was sitting down when I read her text.
Sophia: Can’t wait. Take lots of vitamins and get in bed early tonight, because I’m not letting you get much sleep tomorrow night.
Never, in my entire existence, had I needed two days to pass in a second that badly. It seemed that we were on the same page that “one and done” meant one night or weekend, maybe. Not just fucking once.
Once would never be enough to get this intense urge to be inside her out of my system. The weekend? I could work with that.
Me: I’ll take my vitamins with a shot of something and I can’t promise an early night tonight, but I can definitely promise a long night tomorrow. Going to the Fox with Mark later.
The early morning traffic was light, and I was pulling into the parking garage underneath my office building by the time Sophia’s reply came through.
Sophia: Fine, but I’m keeping you to your promise about tomorrow night. Even if I have to drag your hungover ass to that hotel myself, it’s mine for the night.
A shout of laughter escaped from me. Sophia was cheeky and playful when it came to sex. Who knew? I hadn’t thought it was possible to get turned on more than I’d been since those kisses the night before, but I’d been wrong. Seeing this side of her made me literally, painfully aware of the number of hours between now and when I’d finally to get to fuck her.
It was going to be a long-ass day.
Crossing the parking lot to the elevator, I dragged my hand through my hair and tried to focus on the day ahead, but Sophia crept back into the forefront of my mind the second I stepped into my office and my phone alerted me to another text from her.
Sophia: Speaking of your fine ass, don’t end up drunk off it tonight. I mean it. No matter how much alcohol the two of you consume, you can’t tell Mark what’s going on.
I tapped out a reply without having to think about it. I wasn’t fucking stupid. Of course, I wasn’t going to let tequila do the talking for me.
Me: I won’t. I’m rather attached to both my dick and my life and I’d probably lose both if he finds out.
Sophia replied with a laughing face emoticon and a thumbs up.
I stared at our flirty exchange for a second, sighed, and booted up my computer. It was time to get to work.
As it turned out, I was fucking stupid. Because a little more than fourteen hours later, I’d lost track of how many drinks I had, and I let tequila do the goddamn talking. Mark and I were draped over the dark wooden bar at the Fox, a typical dark, low-ceilinged Irish pub with cold beer on tap and a bartender who, unfortunately for me that night, didn’t cut you off until you started breaking things or people.
Mark hadn’t been kidding when he said that he felt like getting wasted. He had two shots of Patron waiting for me when I walked through the door and kept them coming for the rest of the night.
He’d broken down about the reason for his urge to binge almost immediately, telling me that things were shitty at work and that he wanted to pick my brain. He did, and I was grateful for the distraction.
I was also happy that I was able to help him out a little. It eased the guilt in the pit of my stomach some. Or maybe that was the booze. I couldn’t be sure anymore.
But it felt like I was floating on air by the time the curve ball hit.
“Let’s go away for the weekend,” Mark said, slurring his words a bit.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I knew that I should deflect and keep my mouth shut. But that seemed like a terrible idea at the time.
“Can’t.” I smirked. “Got a big date tomorrow night.”
“Yeah?” Marked asked. “With who? Can’t you move it? I really feel like we should go on a road trip this weekend.”
Mark was a staunch believer in the power of the almighty road trip. As was I, usually. It would’ve been a tempting offer if the one I already had on the table wasn’t the only damn thing I’d been able to think about all day.
I ignored the question about who the date was with, but I still ran my mouth. “Can’t move it. I already booked a room at the Madison.”
Fucking tequila. It never made good decisions.