I woke to my alarm at eight and pulled on a pair of yoga capris, a workout top with a built-in bra, and a jacket. I slipped on a pair of Toms, pulled my hair into messy bun, and walked the three blocks to the yoga studio.

It had been too long since I’d been to a class. It was just what I needed. I felt the stress of work and everything else melt away as I flowed from pose to pose. I was a little out of practice and winded and sweating by the time the hour-long class was over. Before walking home, I stopped for a latte at the coffee shop near our apartment.

I had my headphones in and was scrolling through Facebook as I walked off the elevator, and toward our apartment at the end of the hall. When I lifted my head, I stopped walking so suddenly I almost dropped my coffee. Carson stood in front of our door, with his head down, and his hands on either side of the doorframe. He looked so hot in his white T-shirt and black jeans, a baseball cap covering his hair. Coffee leaked from the lid of my cup and onto my hand, the hot liquid burning my skin.

“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath, licking the coffee off my hand. Carson lifted his head and looked at me, not moving his hands off the doorway. I pulled my headphones out of my ears but didn’t move from my spot twenty feet away.

“What are you doing here?” I said coldly. I took a sip of my coffee and glared at him. Damn him. I had ignored him, had an excellent stress-relieving time at yoga, and now he was here, fucking everything up again.

“I thought we were meeting for coffee?” His blue eyes never left mine. Even from twenty feet away, I could see the storm raging behind them.

“I don't know what made you think that. I went to yoga.”

“I can see that.” He finally moved his hands and stood up straight, taking a few steps toward me. I held up my hand, needing the distance between us.

“Stop,” I said harshly. “Really, Carson, why are you here?” I pleaded. “Why did you want to meet me for coffee?” He ignored my command to stop and cleared the space between us in just a few steps. He reached his arm out to touch my face, but I danced around him, careful not to spill my coffee as we traded places.

“I needed to see you.” He took another step toward me. Uh-oh. I had nowhere to go but into our apartment, and I knew I couldn't unlock the door and get inside fast enough to avoid Carson. He saw my predicament and smirked.

“Why are you trying so hard to avoid me?”

“Because we can't do this. I'm married. Quinn is your best friend,” I pleaded with him. He stepped closer, leaving only a few feet between us now. My mind was screaming at him to stop, to stay away, but my body wanted him closer, wanted every part of him touching me.

“You keep talking about this, but I just came to have coffee with a friend,” he said, but the mischievous look on his face said coffee was the last thing on his mind.

I took a step backward, the hard wood of the door meeting my back. I tried to control my breathing, tried to calm my heart that threatened to beat out of my chest. I could smell his cologne, and the scent made desire pool in my core.

He grabbed my coffee and took a sip, his eyes never leaving my face. He took another step toward me, our bodies just inches apart, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body. It took every ounce of control I had to keep from raising my hands and running them up his arms and into his hair. Instead, I kept them pressed against the door behind me.

Carson put a hand above my head and leaned closer. He leaned his head back and took another sip of my latte.

“This is disgusting.” His words were a whisper against my lips.

“Then quit drinking it,” I replied sarcastically.

“But then I’d have to find something else to do with my mouth.” His lips were dangerously close to mine. I dropped my head; I was out of smart ass comments. I put my hands on Carson’s chest and tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. He laughed at my feeble attempt. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“What?” My head snapped up, and I looked up at him again. A strange combination of laughter and lust filled his eyes. Before I could blink, Carson’s lips crushed against mine. Energy surged through my body, fire burning from my lips down through my core, like someone had lit a firework.

He pulled away long enough to put my coffee down on the floor, then his lips were on mine again, as he ran his fingers up my arms, leaving a trail of tingling heat on my skin before he cupped my face with both hands and deepened our kiss. He ran a hand down my neck, across my collarbone. His tongue followed the trail his fingers had made. Pulling the top of my workout tank down, exposing one of my breasts, his tongue skimmed across cleavage before circling my nipple. I moaned, and my back arched away from the door, suddenly realizing we were still in the hallway.

“Let’s go inside,” I said.

“Where are your keys? He breathed against my lips.

“I don’t know.” They had been in my hand when I had rounded the corner. Carson scooped them up from the ground and put the key in the lock. He pushed me inside, his hands grabbing my hips, and his lips meeting mine again as he kicked the door closed behind him.

The sound of the door shutting brought me back to reality, and I pulled my mouth away from his. But he didn't let me go—only rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard.

“Carson.”

“Don’t talk. Don’t think.” It was impossible not to think; my mind was racing a hundred miles an hour.

“Carson please,” I begged. Was I asking him to leave or keep going? Then Carson lowered his head and pulled my nipple back into his mouth, and all thoughts about anything but Carson and that moment ceased to exist. I moaned again. Carson tugged the other side of my top down and cupped my breast with his hand, rubbing his thumb over my nipple. Every touch was like fire on my skin, intensifying the need burning inside me.

I fumbled with his shirt as we stumbled to the couch, like two teenagers who couldn’t get naked fast enough. He pulled my top off over my head and threw it to the side, his lips barely breaking contact with mine. Pushing me down onto the couch, he climbed on top of me.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my shaking fingers struggling to get his belt undone. Finally, I loosened the buckle, undid the button and zipper of his jeans, and pushed them to the floor, along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, hard and ready, a drop of pre-cum already glistening at his tip. I wanted to taste him, to take him in mouth and make him come all over me. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and he moaned, his grip on me finally relaxing. I slid down the couch and took him in my mouth.

“Fuck, Chloe,” he said through gritted teeth as I moved my mouth up and down and cupped his balls in my hand. I felt his hand on the back of head, the pressure pushing me to take him deeper in my mouth. I pulled him in and sucked hard. “Chloe, oh my God, you have to stop,” he gasped.

“Why’d you make me stop?” I pouted, reaching for him again. He pushed my hand away and flashed me a mischievous grin.

“Because I didn’t come here for a blow job.”

“Oh really? Why did you come here then?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“To do something I’ve wanted to do for years.”

Carson dropped to his knees in front of me and pulled down my pants. I wasn’t wearing any panties and was left naked and exposed. He ran his hands up my calves, pushing my knees apart. His hands continued up my inner thighs, and when his fingers brushed over my clit, I moaned.

Carson slid a finger inside me, and I gasped.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled and pumped his finger inside me. My hands dug into the fabric of the couch, and my head dropped back, eyes closing in pleasure.

“Look at me,” Carson demanded. My eyes popped open and met his. He didn’t break eye contact as he pulled his finger out and put it in his mouth, sucking gently before he lowered his head.

“Oh my God, Carson,” I moaned when his tongue dipped inside me. He gripped my hips, holding me in place while he fucked me with his tongue. When his tongue flicked over my clit, my eyes rolled back in my head and pleasure began to build at my center. I moaned Carson’s name as he took my body higher and higher. “Yes ... please ... don’t stop...” I gasped out. I was so close.

“Look at me. Let me see you come,” he said. I forced my eyelids open and met Carson’s gaze, but the eye contact was short lived. My head fell back, and my fingernails dug into the couch moments later when I came, a string of swear words tumbling out of my mouth. Carson finally pulled his mouth off me and wiped his face on the back of his hand, a giant grin plastered on his face.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” My legs felt like Jell-O. Carson grabbed my wrist and pulled me up, kissing me roughly before spinning me around and pushing me against the couch, using one foot to spread my legs. He put a hand on the small of my back and inched his way into me. It felt perfect, like his body was made for mine. He moved out slowly and back in even slower; it was killing me.

“Carson,” I whispered. His pace didn’t change; every movement was deliberate and excruciatingly slow.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this?” He slapped my ass, and I let out a yelp. “How many times I’ve gotten off while I imagined fucking you?” He slapped me again, and I let out a moan. “I’ve wanted to be inside you so many times.” He pulled out and slammed back in. “And it’s fucking amazing.”

“Holy shit, yes,” I whispered.

“Tell me how you like it,” he commanded.

“Hard.”

He slapped my ass again, and I let out another moan.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Tell me you love it.”

“I fucking love it.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, never breaking his rhythm. He grabbed both of my hips and fucked me like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. His fingers dug into my hips as he slid in and out of me.

He let go of one of my hips and reached around me, pressing two fingers on my clit and rubbing in circles.

“Oh fuck yes,” I moaned. Carson slapped me again, and my orgasm began to build.

“You’re fucking amazing, Chloe … Oh my God,” he grunted. I came moments later, screaming his name as he fucked me.

As my orgasm subsided, he pulled out and flipped me over. He stroked himself, his breathing hard and ragged as he moaned my name and came on my chest. He collapsed on the couch next to me. Neither of us said anything as we caught our breath.

When my muscles would finally cooperate, I grabbed my pants off the floor and used them to clean myself off before I pulled a blanket off the couch and wrapped it around me.

“I’m going to take a shower.” I turned away from Carson, unable to look at him right now. “You can show yourself out when you’re ready, but just be gone before I get out, please.” I picked his T-shirt up off the floor and threw it to him.

“Chloe,” he said. I stopped, but I didn’t turn around. I waited for whatever else he was going to say, but it never came. What was there to say?

“I think it’s better if we don’t talk.” I took a few more steps toward the bathroom. He didn’t say anything to stop me, so I kept walking. “Lock the door behind you.”

I turned on the shower, then sunk to the floor and cried. What had I done?