I wake up on Kyle’s chest, his fingers lightly tracing my back. “I was hoping I’d get to say goodbye before I left. Now I think I’m running late," he says but makes no effort to move.

“You should have woke me up sooner, I would have showered with you,” I reply getting to a sitting position. We’re both still naked, and I pull the sheet across my chest.

“Fuck. Maybe next time.” He winks at me and I watch him climb out of bed and get dressed. He’s looking really good. Better than I’d realized last night in my faded stupor.

“So when are you going back?” I ask as he fastens his pants.

“A week from tomorrow. I got here yesterday.”

“And you spent your first night here with me?” I ask with ridicule.

He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “You wish I hadn’t?”

“I never said that,” I reply with a smile. He smiles back.

“Good, because I don’t regret one minute of it. You’re even more gorgeous than I remember, Chanel.”

“Oh stop, you’re making me blush,” I facetiously reply. He sits on the bed next to me and kisses me.

“I’m not kidding. Can I see you again before I leave?” He asks after he pulls away.

I grin at his earnestness. “How about next Saturday? I work all week.”

“Sounds good.” He grabs my phone off the nightstand and starts tapping on the screen. “You have my new number.” He hands me my phone and leans in to give me another kiss. I take his face in my hands and he holds my waist. I let out a small moan and he pulls back. “Fuck don’t do that, I gotta go, and you’re gonna make me more late than I already am.”

“Sorry, get out of here,” I laugh as he gives my ass one last squeeze. We say goodbye and I’m alone in my room. I’m really fucking thirsty, but I don’t think I’m the only one home, and if that’s the case I don’t want to get up. Does Ethan work today? Fuck I don’t remember. Probably not. He was drinking last night too. Ethan...I can’t believe how I acted last night. Let alone all week. I don’t normally drink too much, and from what I remember, I was making an ass of myself. But now that I’ve been satisfied, I’m almost ashamed of the thoughts I’ve been having. I briefly recall thinking of Ethan at the worst time last night, and shake my head. I let the guilt have it’s run and find solace in the fact that I don’t think my hormones will be a problem any longer. I feel like I can breath a little easier and put things into perspective.

Seriously though, Kyle, holy shit. I needed that. Though, I’m glad he’s just visiting. Keep it strictly physical, not that anything could blossom between us anyways. What with the hundreds of miles between us. Maybe I should drink next Saturday too…

Fuck. Alcohol. Dehydration from my night of drinking can be put off no longer. I slip on a black tank top and some sleep shorts and enter the basement living room. I hear someone upstairs as I make my way. When I enter the kitchen, Ethan is there in a white t-shirt and pajama pants, his back to me, making coffee.

“Morning,” Ethan chimes in a friendly tone, glancing over his shoulder.

“What’s up? Can you make me some of that?” I ask, and by the tone of my voice, caffeine should be a given.

“Just started some.” He turns and leans against the counter with a smile. I give back a half smile and reach into the fridge. I chug down water and glimpse at him crossing his arms. He seems oddly cheerful this morning. I put the cap back on and lean against the counter across from him, the kitchen island between us.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much,” I reply nodding. “Now I remember why I don’t drink too often.” He lets out a short laugh.

“You only had a few shots,” he says. He’s making fun of me.

“Well, we can’t all be immune to liquor until an entire bottle is consumed now can we?” I reply and he laughs again.

“I guess not. Not that I can help that though.”

“See, that’s why I prefer smoking with you. We can get on the same level with roughly the same amount of substance.” Making small talk with him is easier than I’d anticipated. This is the most we’ve talked since Tuesday. With the exception of last night, having Kyle as a mediator.

He nods his head. “Fair enough. For what it’s worth, I drank enough to be buzzing with you. So don’t feel bad.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to leave you out now would we?”

“Your friend Kyle seemed pretty chill,” he remarks, nothing out of the ordinary in his tone considering the fact he probably saw him just leave.

“Yeah, we used to date, like, three years ago. He doesn’t live here, just visiting,” I reply.

“Right on. That’s the first person I’ve seen you bring home since Brian, so he must be cool.” I sigh at his observation and nod my head for a moment.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy. I still don’t think I’m ready for a relationship though, so I’m almost glad he doesn’t live here.” I try not to smile toward the end of my sentence, but it shows. It’s hard not to be honest with Ethan. He’s so easy to get along with. His eyes brighten by barely a degree at my comment. I almost didn’t notice. My head automatically tilts by a fraction. Hmm.

“That’s one thing I admire you for; you don’t do anything you don’t want to do.” We both chuckle and it’s quiet. I wonder if his mind’s gone to the same place mine has. Somewhere against the wall downstairs.

I look up at him and he looks like he wants to say something, his eyes burning.

“I’m sorry about the other night Chanel.” Ah. So we are on the same page. My mouth opens slightly, but I don’t really know what to say. I think he knows how I feel about it. My eyes search the room, and I take a deep breath.

“I can’t say I’m not angry. But I forgive you. It was a mistake,” I say, and he doesn't speak. "Wasn't it?" I prompt him. He takes a breath and nods.

“Yeah. It was a bad idea,” he says, and I shrug.

“We all make mistakes.” Ethan raises his eyebrows and kinda shrugs, as if to disagree with my comment. I almost express my curiosity, but bite my tongue given the topic of conversation. I'm feeling awkward again. While we’re fixing our cups, his phone rings.

“I love going in on my day off,” he says when he ends the call.

“What happened?”

“One of the compressors broke. I need go fix it.” He shakes his head and takes a large drink.

“That sucks. Hopefully it doesn’t take too long,” I comment, sipping my own dark liquid.

“No shit. I’m gonna go get ready. See you later.”

“Bye,” I reply as we take our separate directions, me heading for the shower.

***

I wake up sweating. Holy shit, why is it so fucking hot in here? I roll over on my bed and look at my alarm. 1:23 a.m. Good thing I don’t work tomorrow. I grab my water bottle off the nightstand and it's empty. Of course. I need to get up anyway and turn on the a/c. I peek out my room and don’t see any lights on, so I set out for the kitchen. Stepping quietly up the stairs, I round the corner, look up and see a dark figure.

“Holy shit!” I screech in the dimly lit room. Ethan turns around, wearing only his pajama pants. “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack.” I shake my head, restarting my heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were up," he apologizes and throws a wrapper into the trash can.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here.” I step around the island to the fridge, and his expression pulls me up short. I look down...and apparently I’m only wearing cheeky booty shorts with my tight black tank top. Fuck. I look up to him and only see his chest at first. His very firm, very tanned chest, being slightly illuminated by the stove and refrigerator lights. Then I find his eyes.

He’s staring at me surprised. His eyes dart down my body and back up my face in half a second. I hesitate, then stand a little taller. We’re adults damn it.

“Did you just turn on the a/c?” I ask as I reach into the fridge, noticing for the first time the humming through the house.

“Yeah just barely. I just got home from fixing that fucking compressor,” he replies and I turn to him and shut the door.

“Just now? It’s almost 1:30,” I say as I turn by the island again to hide my bottom half.

“Tell me about it. I didn’t get the part I needed until late,” he says unhappily, but his eyes don’t leave me once.

“I'm sorry. At least you made it home tonight.” I let out a short, strained laugh, but he doesn’t join in. He’s just... staring at me. Extremely shirtless. Why aren’t I leaving? His stare is like holding me hostage. He’s definitely noticed I’m still standing here, half naked, and he takes a step toward me. I stare into his eyes, playing with the bottle in my hands until my own eyes start to wander.

His thin cotton pants are hanging on his hips, and his --now that I notice-- very chiseled torso, is hard to ignore. And he’s getting closer. When he’s at the corner of the counter, right next to me, is when I look up. He licks his lips and just stands there, looking down at me. Has he always been so tall? Is it getting hotter in here? Oh fuck. I hear my breathing in my ears, but I can’t move. Forward or backward. I’m like a mouse caught in the eyes of a snake.

Ethan examines me a moment further, and knows I’m not going to make any sort of move. He rounds the counter so he’s right in front of me. I set the bottle down and I’m leaning back on the marble top, trying not to touch him. While we’re still staring at each other, I see the last puzzle piece click into place in his eyes, and it happens. His large hands are around my waist, holding me tightly to his warm chest, and he’s kissing me. My hands are squeezing the edge of the counter behind me as I breathe heavily through my nose. My lips are pressed to his, but I haven’t decided if I’m kissing him back or not.

He’s obviously not satisfied with my uncertain response, so he moves again. He grabs my ass like he owns it, and lifts me off the ground. My legs have no where to go but his sides. I’m not using an ounce of effort as I’m suspended above the ground. Holy fucking shit, is this really happening? My hands are on his muscled shoulders, my ass still in his hands, and my mouth opens. He’s gentle but firm. Knows what he wants and is taking it. Sucking on my bottom lip, his tongue dancing with mine.

My eyebrows are tightly knit together, but my mouth isn’t stopping. Am I really letting this happen? My mind is racing a million miles an hour. Because not only is he my roommate. He’s a long time friend. And not only is he a long time friend, he’s one of my best friends whom I share a relationship I don’t want to immensely destroy. And not only is he one of my best friends - he’s married. He and his wife live upstairs adjacent to the kitchen, and I am renting a room from them in their basement, next to the second living room. And I am kissing the fuck out of him.

The thought makes my stomach tighten and I moan in confusion. He kisses me harder. My fingertips are pressing into his shoulders, and the harder I press, a low moan rumbles in his throat. I press harder, beginning to use my nails.

“You might not want to do that,” he says in a whispered, husky voice against my lips. The sound of it makes my stomach flip. And by reaction, my nails are meeting his flesh. He immediately steps forward and sets my ass on the island counter top. His hands slip up to my small waist and my arms wrap around his neck. As he’s kissing me, one of his forearms slowly wraps around my back as the other hand makes it’s way down my hip. My fingers are in his dark hair, my tongue still in his mouth as his hand rubs over my thigh toward my center. His thumb presses against my clit and my eyes fly open. Now I see why his arm is at my back. I’m squirming uselessly as he holds me in place.

And damn it, it feels amazing. His hot hand is only making me hotter. Part of me is trying to break free, and I’m pretty sure the other part of me is humping his hand. No matter what he thinks I'm trying to do, he's not letting me get away. He nudges my head to the side and gently bites my neck. I moan and arch my back, my body pressing into him. He welcomes it, pulling me as close as our bodies will allow with his hand between my thighs.

“Fuck,” I whisper and he bites hard on my shoulder. I gasp, and an “Oh my God,” escapes my lips.

He moans and brings his mouth to my ear. “Shut up, Chanel. You’re making this hard when you talk like that.” And it sounds like some kind of warning - some kind of sexy warning.

Confused by his comment, I had no idea my words were of any effect. But now I’m curious. “What do you mean?” I ask softly and his hand stops. Smiling at me, he pushes my chest until I’m lying on the countertop. I look down stunned as Ethan

lifts my knees over his shoulders, gripping tightly to my thighs.

When I realize what he’s about to do, I lean up onto my elbows and start to pull away. This is just too much, too fast. This shouldn’t be happening at all. But damn, he’s fucking fast. Within a second, my panties are out of his way and he’s licking me. My mouth is open as far is it can go, my eyes shocked and innocent. Even his mouth is hot against me, his large tongue licking me up and down with just the right speed. Everything he’s doing is perfect. Every move me makes doesn’t feel like too much or too little. “Holy shit,” I say because his eyes still haven’t left mine. I’m watching him eat me like I’m his favorite dish in the world.

We can’t do this. We def... ohh... definitely can’t do this. I have to say something.

“Ethan,” I moan his name and his eyes only burn more. “We can’t do this.” I’m shaking my head side to side, but I can’t look away. His long strokes stop and he latches onto my clit, sucking hard. I scream aloud and throw my head back. Oh my fucking God, that is spectacular. I have to lie back onto the counter so I can grab his head, anything for some control. I fist his hair tightly and he moans. The noise makes my back arch, and he continues sucking on me. I yank on his hair and he takes his tongue and flicks my clit. I scream and jerk at the same time. I can feel him smile against me, and he does it again, getting the same reaction. Oh no…

”Ethan pleeaase... oh God, you have to sto-” I’m cut off by another flick of his tongue. I arch my back farther than before. He starts to release my thighs and I try to pull away from his mouth. He tightens his grip immediately, humming in disapproval, and keeps me where I am. He tortures me with a flick and a hard suck; I shiver in reply. I see what he’s doing here. When I do something he doesn’t like, he increases his actions by giving me exactly what I don’t want - which also happens to be what I do want.

Fuck, we can't do this. This is so wrong. Why does it feel so right? No one’s mouth has ever contoured to my pussy so perfectly. No one’s hands fit around my body in just the right way. His body temperature, his height, his hands, his mouth and lips and oh my fucking God, his tongue. It’s perfect. And for the first time in my life, I feel myself climbing...from someone’s mouth. I release his hair and quickly lean forward on my elbows to watch what he’s doing.

“Ethan,” I say in a warning. I try to sound firm but it comes out almost pleading. He’s looking me right in the eye, giving me exactly what I want. The way he sucks on my clit, I’ve never had before. I moan as he licks and sucks and flicks and I’m getting closer and closer and closer.

“Ethan, I’m gonna cum,” I cry out. The tingling in my body is spreading out farther and farther and he doesn’t stop. Almost there... almost there... fuck me. As I reach the top of my mountain, everything stops, and I’m looking him right in the eye when these horrid words slip from my mouth.

“You’re married, Ethan,” I say in protest, then I tip. “And I’m cumming!” I moan so loudly, it echos in the kitchen. He flicks me hard and I orgasm so intensely I could cry. His mouth is on me. Oh my God. And I’m cumming. Holy shit.

“Fuucckkkk!” I scream as my body continues twitching. I’m writhing in his hands, and it’s so fucking hot. He doesn’t let me go and I slowly, very slowly, start to come down. A full minute has passed before my back is lying completely against the counter. My lungs are aching for enough room to breathe this air that’s coming and escaping my body too quickly.

My eyes are shut and I could fall asleep right here, I don’t want to move. Sated; satisfied; quenched, requited--nothing comes close. Another minute passes and I open my eyes to find Ethan standing next to me. He’s staring at me like he’s waiting for something, assessing my actions. A tear escapes the corner of my eye without my permission. I’m not sobbing, I’m not crying, I’m just... so confused. And I now officially feel like shit. He pulls me up and lifts me off the counter, taking me into his arms.

“Do you want to go to bed?” He asks quietly. I can’t speak so I nod my head. He carries me downstairs and lays me on my bed, sitting next to me. I’m staring past him, my mind blank. After a moment he lifts my hand and I watch him kiss it softly. Then he leaves.

I’m staring at the door shut behind him and I’m stunned. Methodically, I pull my covers over me and turn on my side. I notice an unopened bottle of water on my nightstand. In the back of my mind I’m wondering how I didn’t notice him bring that with us. I pick it up, chug some down and lie back onto my pillow. Fuck.