Happy Tuesday!! With only two weeks left to go until the big day, I’ve got another bonus scene for you! Actually, this one is an entire chapter!

Welcome to the alternate version of the 1st chapter of Thoughtful! Enjoy!

*Alternate Chapter 1 – Baser Instincts*

My stomach growled so loudly I was sure everyone in the grocery store heard it. I was hungry. No, actually, I think I was hovering on the edge of starvation. My gut was at that slightly painful point where it was about to start eating itself. I should have had a snack before coming down here, but I just hadn’t felt like it at the time. It was only supposed to be a quick trip to the store anyway. I’d only neededone thing.

As I walked down the cracker aisle, I glanced at the basket hooked on my arm. Now I knew why people said you shouldn’t shop while you were hungry. I had a chicken Caesar salad wrap from the deli, a gigantic bag of potato chips, a pound of bacon, a package of tortilla shells, a bag of string cheese, strawberry frozen waffles, grapes, a handful of power bars, and a box of Froot Loops. I didn’t even like Froot Loops. Pausing in the aisle, I reached over and tossed in a box of Goldfish crackers. They looked good. God, I was hungry.

Listening to the eighties tune being piped through the overhead speakers, I tried to think through the haze of hunger. What did I come here for again? Oh right, condoms. Shit. How did I almost forget about the condoms? Turning around, I made my way to the “fun” aisle.

As I strolled down the aisle, a small laugh escaped me. I needed to remember to pick up a box of condoms for Matt. He wouldn’t even go down this aisle. He knew that shopping for this kind of stuff didn’t bother me in the slightest, and he knew that I wouldn’t give him shit about it like Griffin, so he called me with “orders” a few times a year. Honestly, I think he needed to buck up and buy his own supplies. What was that saying? If you’re too embarrassed to buy it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. I supposed one day I would have to stage an intervention and make him pick up his own lube. For his own personal growth, of course. But Matt handled everything for our band, so I cut him some slack.

Me, I think I’d purchased everything on this shelf at least once. Some of them hundreds of times. Looking over the various colorful condom boxes, I had to laugh at the claims of greatness on each one.You will be the biggest stud in the world if you’re wearing one of these on your junk. Advertising seemed like a fun job. Maybe I’d missed my calling. Maybe I should quit being the lead singer of a semi-decent band and go into marketing. Sure, why not. Then again, they would probably frown on me writing lyrics all day instead of slogans. Unless I was writing jingles? Nah, I’d rather write rock songs.

While I’d been with the D-Bags for a few years now, I’d been in one band or another since high school, and I’d been playing the guitar since I was six. My childhood hadn’t been the easiest, and music had been my saving grace. From the first time I’d held my guitar, I’d been hooked. It was the feel of the wood beneath my fingers, smooth, cool. It was the toughness of the strings, the reverberation deep inside the instrument. Even when I had been too young to really understand the impact music would have on my life, playing the guitar had spoken to me. There was something meaningful in that simple instrument that was dying to come out. There was something meaningful inside of me that was dying to come out.

My parents had given the instrument to me as a gift, but even back then I’d known it was more for them than for me. It was a convenient way to keep me occupied and out of their hair so they didn’t have to be around me as much. My conception had been an unwanted accident, and my parents had never warmed up to me, never accepted me. I was a mistake that had forever changed their lives, and they’d never let me forget it. Whatever. The guitar kept me out of their way and I loved playing it, so it was a decent present, regardless of the ulterior motives behind it.

They hadn’t bothered getting me lessons though, so I’d taught myself. It had taken forever on my own, but being an only child with no close friends and parents who didn’t want to have anything to do with me had afforded me a healthy amount of free time. My dad had liked to have the radio on whenever he was home. He would generally listen to talk radio, NPR and such, but when he put on music, it was almost always classic rock. I loved trying to mimic the songs, and once I’d mastered the basic chords, I’d played along with every song I could. It had irritated the hell out of Dad. He’d turn the radio up and order me to my room. “If you want to cause permanent ear damage with your god-awful racket, then do it alone so only you have to suffer,” he’d say.

I’d go upstairs, but I’d leave my door cracked open so I could still hear the music. We had a big house when I was growing up, but if I strummed really softly, I could follow along with whatever was playing. For the next several years, “Stairway to Heaven” was my favorite song, but, then again, I think that’s everybody’s favorite song when they’re learning.

I got really, really good at playing it, but music was all I had going for me, and I wanted to be better, so I approached a music teacher who lived down the road from me. She gave piano lessons to some of the kids in my class, so one afternoon I knocked on her door and asked her if I could do odd jobs around her house in exchange for guitar lessons. She’d agreed, so every day after school I’d gone over to her house for a couple hours, and she’d helped me hone my craft by teaching me how to read music. Then, after our lessons were done, she would give me some small job to do—weed her flower beds, wash her car, mow her lawn. Stuff like that.

Some kids I knew complained about their lessons, but I loved every second of it. Music was one of the few things that gave me complete and total peace, and for the first time in my young life, I’d found something I connected with. Something with similar wants and desires, similar needs. The guitar neededto be played. I needed to play it. It was a mutual, beautiful, symbiotic relationship, and for a long time, it was the only real relationship I had.

Considering the fact that I was restocking my condom supply, I think it was safe to say that I’d eventually found other relationships, of the human variety. Sex had entered my life at a young age, completely by happenstance, when a girl on the other side of the neighborhood had opened me up to a whole new world of possibilities. Like music, it had touched a nerve with me. For the second time in my life, something had made me feel connected to the world.

After my first time experiencing sex, I had craved that feeling, that closeness, and I had sought it out as often as I could. I wasn’t picky about who I slept with either—older, younger, attractive, homely, mothers, teachers, trusted advisors. Who they were didn’t matter to me. I only cared that they were interested. If someone gave me a look, an innuendo, or an outright request, I’d acted on it, every time. I supposed I still did, which probably wasn’t the best thing to admit, but it was the truth. Sex was an incredible release for me. It made me feel like a part of something bigger than myself, made me feel connected to the world around me. And I need to feel connected. My life was full of empty spaces. Right or wrong, being connected between the sheets was sometimes the only way I felt close to anybody.

Just as I was about to reach for my favorite kind of condom—ultrathin for ultrasensitivity—I spotted a woman off to my left. She was hovering, obviously waiting for me to leave. The aisle I was standing in was also home to pregnancy tests, vaginal creams, and enough maxi pads to dry up the Pacific. It amused me to guess what the woman was waiting to buy. She could easily pick up some tampons at the far end of the aisle from me, so I must be blocking what she really needed. Maybe she was knocked up and needed a test? They were slightly to my right though. Still reachable. Maybe she needed one of the three dozen itch creams resting on the shelves right in front of me. Or maybe she needed condoms? Some women bought them. I would, if I were a chick.

Not sure what she needed, I looked over my shoulder and made eye contact with her. The brunette standing behind the shopping cart seemed older than me, maybe midthirties. She blushed bright red when our gazes locked, and I couldn’t help but smile at her. There was something about a woman being embarrassed that was absolutely adorable.

Her eyes locked onto my mouth and my smile grew wider. It was obvious she found me attractive. Girls were usually more subtle than men, but not always. Twisting to face her, I pointed at the various condoms that were available, including a bold box of neon ones. Keeping my voice as polite as possible, I asked, “Am I in your way? Do you need one?” Picking up two boxes of the kind that I was getting today, I offered one of them to her. “I highly recommend these.” Leaning in, I winked at her. “Trust me, your man will thank you.”

She stammered, said something about needing a bag of ice, and then pushed her cart away from me so fast that the front wheel looked like it might shake loose. Chuckling at her rosy complexion, I tossed both boxes of condoms into my basket. Oh well, I’d tried to be helpful.

Wondering if the woman would return to the aisle once I left it, I started heading for the checkout stands. That was when I remembered that I didn’t have any milk for my cereal. Cereal I probably wasn’t even going to eat. It still sounded good though, so I changed directions and headed for the dairy section in the back of the store.

As I passed the candy aisle on my way to the milk, I stopped. Damn. Gummy bears were on sale. God, that sounded good. Fuck, I was so hungry. Would they care if I opened the package in the store? Grabbing a bag, I tossed them in the basket, on top of my condoms.

“Oh my God. You’re Kellan Kyle…”

I turned around at hearing my name. Thanks to my occupation, I got recognized from time to time. Directly behind me was a petite young woman with hair so blond it was almost silver. Her slim nose had a slight upturn to the end of it, and she had twin beauty marks near the corner of her right eye. Framed in thick black mascara, the young girl’s irises were a turquoise shade of blue, like calm tropical water. They were almost bulging out of their sockets as she stared at me. There was no denying the girl was cute, and she seemed to know who I was, so I gave her a genuinely warm smile as I responded to her statement.

“At your service,” I said with a small bow, making her giggle. Considering how her eyes were darting from my face to my chest to my crotch, her laughter had an oddly innocent sound to it. I suspected the truth though. This girl was no angel. Neither was I, so already we were a good match.

Adjusting the basket on my arm, I gave her a crooked smile. “I seem to be at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know you.” At least, I didn’t think I knew her. Her face wasn’t ringing any bells. If I had met her before, I hoped she wasn’t offended.

She bit her lip as her eyes locked onto my waistband. Grabbing a strand of her long, platinum mane, she twirled it around her finger while she said in a breathy exhale, “My name is Gemma.”

My smile relaxed into a breezy grin. “Well, Gemma. It’s very nice to meet you.” Leaning in, I gave her a small wink.

She dissolved into giggles again. When whatever humor she had found in the moment ran its course, she told me, “I saw you play a couple of weeks ago in Pioneer Square.” Her hand came up and her fingers touched my chest, then trailed down my stomach. “You…were amazing.”

My lips parted as I stared her down, her eyes tracking the movement. Just that brief touch sparked something in me…desire, longing. I wasn’t sure why, but there was something about human touch that spoke to my soul. A clap on the back from a friend could completely alter my mood, while a girl running her hand up my thigh could instantly put me in the mood. It was a potent and unexplainable connection that I shared with people when they crossed into my personal space, whether they realized the significance of it or not. And right now, this strange woman caressing me was opening me up to something wanton and lustful. I wanted to take this bold woman home with me, feel her hands travel over every inch of my bare skin. I wanted her legs wrapped around mine, wanted to bury myself in her, and feel the shuddering waves of ecstasy as they overtook me.

But even as I had the thought, I knew it wasn’t a complete picture. There was a hole in my desire, a void that I didn’t know how to fill. But that wouldn’t stop me from trying to fill it. And this pretty little thing in front of me was the only way I knew how. I was putty in her hands right now. I’d do anything…all she needed to do was ask. So ask, Ms. Ocean Eyes, and I’ll be anything you want me to be.

Her hand fell to her side when she was finished stroking my shirt. We were standing so close now that our shoes were almost touching. She glanced at my basket, then back to my face. “I’m starving. I was just about to get something to eat. Would you like to join me?”

She tilted her head and smiled. Her expression was as blatantly suggestive as her question. A slow smile spread over my face. Anything you want; just help me fill this void. “I would love to. Where are you going?”

Her eyes searched my face, then drifted down to my jeans. I felt her tiny fingers run up the sleeve of my leather jacket, touching my forearm and curling around the muscle. The hair on my arm stood up as her touch heightened my awareness, ramped up my desire. The blood rushed straight to my groin, hardening my body. I wanted to push the blonde back into the rack and plunge myself into her right next to the Skittles, but I knew I’d never be allowed to shop here again…and this was the closest grocery store to my house. I could wait. I wasn’t a complete Neanderthal. I wasn’t Griffin.

Giving me a seductive smile, like she knew exactly where my thoughts were at, she stepped forward so her hip brushed against my cock. If she could feel how aroused I was, she didn’t show it. “I don’t know,” she finally answered me. “Where do you live?”

Eagerness rushed through me at what I knew was about to happen, but I kept my expression casual and carefree. “Not far.”

Forgoing the milk I didn’t need for the cereal I wasn’t going to eat, I started heading back to the checkout stands. My lunchtime date helped me pass the time in line by giving me teasing caresses through the front pocket of my jeans. It helped, in an aggravating, frustrating, I-need-sex-now sort of way. The brunette from the condom aisle was in the line next to us. She noticed me standing across from her and flushed with color. Still embarrassed then. Even though I was currently being fondled, I had to wonder if the dark-haired girl had gone back for her prophylactics.

When we got to the parking lot, I indicated my black-and-chrome goddess shining in the afternoon sun. My pride and joy. My 1969 Chevelle Malibu. I’d gotten her dirt cheap when I’d been living in L.A. with the guys, and I had spent a decent chunk of my summer fixing her up. Besides my guitar, she was the only material thing I cared about. She was a thing of beauty, my baby, and no one drove her but me.

“Want to ride with me?” I asked her, indicating my car.

Her eyes widened as they raked over my vehicle; they held the same lust-filled look as when they’d raked over me. I was sure she’d give me an exuberant yes, but then she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. “Damn it. My stupid sister. I promised her I would have her car back by one, so she could get to work. Sorry, I’ll have to drive myself, and it will kind of have to be a quick lunch.” She waggled her eyebrows after she said “lunch,” just so I’d know that she wasn’t talking about food. No innuendo was required though. I was already well aware there would be no meal involved.

Shrugging, I gave her the directions to my house. Drive or be driven, it didn’t matter to me. I had somewhere to be in a couple of hours anyway.

It took less than fifteen minutes to get to my house. Through the rearview mirror, I watched my date driving behind me in her sister’s car. She was singing along to something. She was also riding my ass, like she couldn’t get to my house fast enough. If she accidentally rear-ended me, it would certainly put a damper on our afternoon. Revving the hearty engine of my muscle car, I put some distance between us.

Not too much later, I pulled into the tight street that held my home. “Home” was a term I used lightly when I was describing my house. I ate and slept there because it was a building with four walls and a roof, and I owned it free and clear thanks to my parents’ willing it to me after they died in a car crash a couple of years ago. This wasn’t my childhood home though, and I had no emotional attachment to the place. Almost the opposite. This house was wood, brick, glass, nails, glue, and cement. Nothing more.

My parents had been important figures in the community, according to them. I guess that was true. Dad had been on the city council, Mom had volunteered her ass off with various charities. With the two of them, image had been everything, and to the naked eye, the three of us had been a picture-perfect family. You had to look very closely to see how paper-thin that illusion was, but nobody delved that deep. Everyone had their own problems to worry about.

Sometime after I left home, that façade had crumbled though. Mom and Dad sold their million-dollar home in West Seattle and moved here, to a house so small it must have felt like living in squalor to them. From rumors I’d heard after their death, Dad had been accused of some underhanded dealings at his job. Nothing large enough to permanently sully the family name, but he’d “retired” and downsized. And all behind my back. I hadn’t discovered that they’d moved until I’d been informed of their death by my aunt. That had hurt. Seeing the home and seeing that it was completely devoid of anything that had once been mine had hurt too; they’d tossed everything I’d ever owned.

But even though they’d tried to scrub out my existence, they’d still left me everything—the house, their stocks. I was even their life insurance beneficiary. Sometimes I had a hard time understanding why they’d done all that. Maybe they’d had a change of heart about me? Or maybe not. I wasn’t spelled out specifically in the paperwork. It simply said all of their assets were to go to their “next of kin,” i.e., me. Perhaps my good fortune was just laziness on their part. They’d certainly never expected to die at the same time, so maybe, thinking it would never happen, they’d chosen a default answer. That way, anyone looking too closely wouldn’t suspect our family was flawed. Yeah, odds were good leaving everything to me had been an oversight. But then again, there was always that meager chance that they really had meant for me to have it all. It was a mystery I would never truly know the answer to.

When I got to my little, white two-story place, I pulled into the driveway. My date pulled in so fast beside me that she would have clipped my door if I’d had it open. She really was in a hurry. That was good. She wouldn’t be parked in my roommate’s spot for too long. I liked having company in my chilly house, so I always had a renter living in the spare room. Joey had been with me for a few months now, and it was going pretty smoothly, but she did get really possessive about her parking spot. I’d seen her go off on someone just for using her spot as a place to turn around. The girl could come unhinged so easily. We got along for the most part though. Sometimes she was even a lot of fun to be around. Like when we’d decided to have sex for the hell of it. In bed, Joey was a lot of fun, and a bit on the kinky side. She’d pulled out her video camera the last time we’d fooled around. I didn’t care though, it didn’t matter much to me if she wanted to relive the moment over and over.

Putting Joey from my mind, I opened my door and met my date at the front of her car. She was bouncing on her toes, her blond hair swishing in the breeze. “So, this is where you live? Nice.”

“Yeah.” I guess it was all right.

With her following right behind me, almost on my heels, I walked up to the front door and opened it. Stepping into the entryway, I flung my keys onto the half-moon table underneath a row of coat hooks. They skidded to the back, stopping when they hit the wall.

Over my shoulder, I asked her, “Do you want a drink or something?”

Fierce fingers grabbed my arm and spun me around. Hands reached around my neck, pulling me down. Before I knew it, the blonde’s mouth was all over mine. I guess that was a no to the drink. Dropping my bag of groceries, I reached down, grabbed her ass, and lifted her up. Like a python, she wrapped her legs around my waist and squeezed. It made it slightly uncomfortable to carry her, but I managed to make my way up the stairs. It was only when I toed open the door to my room that I realized I’d left the front door wide open. Oh well.

Since I was never certain when Joey was going to come home, I at least shut my bedroom door. I didn’t really care if someone saw me or not, but girls generally preferred privacy. Most girls, not all. I was with this girl in L.A. once who insisted that we do it in the back of the subway car. A bum watched the entire thing. Even I had to admit, it was weird.

The blonde was tearing off my clothes the second I set her down. Wow, she really was in a hurry. I had wondered if this was going to be slow and sultry or more wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, but I guess I had my answer. While I usually preferred spending a little time fondling, caressing, teasing, and tasting, a quickie every now and again was fine too.

Once my jacket and shirt were in a heap on the floor, she raked her fingernails over my stomach. My muscles clenched in response and she groaned. “Holy shit, you have hot abs. I just wanna lick ’em.”

She dropped to her knees and started to do just what she’d said. My eyes fluttered closed as the light flicks of her tongue sent shock waves of desire to my groin. Truly, exercise was a release for me, something I did to clear my mind, shake out the cobwebs of bad memories that clung to the corners, refusing to leave me. As a result, I worked out quite a bit, and my body was lean and defined. Women loved that, so I was grateful for the sculpting side effects of my release.

When the blonde got to my pants, she didn’t even hesitate. She unzipped them, shoved them off, and kept right on going with her mouth. Sucking in a breath, I grabbed a fistful of her hair when she got to the sweet spot. Some girls didn’t like it when I held them in place. Some went nuts. The blonde moaned, sending stimulating vibrations down my cock. Yeah, I think she was okay with it.

When she was done tasting me, she pulled back and I opened my eyes and looked down at her. She was peering up at me with passion, lust, and playfulness swirling in her turquoise eyes. For a brief second, I wondered what she really thought about me. Did she know anything about me besides my name and that I was in a band? Did she realize I screamed my heart out in my lyrics? Did she understand that my life left me feeling vacant inside? That I was so fucking lonely I almost couldn’t stand myself? Would she want to know any of that? Or was the fact that I was in a band enough for her? Like it was for all the other girls I’d slept with.

In what felt like five seconds later, we were both completely bare, and I was exploring her body with my tongue. That was when my bedroom door exploded. Or at least that was what it sounded like. The door crashed into the far wall, denting it, then almost slammed shut again so much force was used to open it. A high heel stepping into its path stopped the door from reclosing, and the wood vibrated as it recovered from its violent journey. I lifted my head from the blonde’s stomach to stare at the pair of bright pink heels that were entering my room uninvited. When I raised my eyes from the shoes to their owner, I pursed my lips in recognition. Joey. Hadn’t she ever heard of knocking? I was kind of busy at the moment. She was breaking every roommate rule there was right now.

The blonde on my bed looked over at the door, but she didn’t seemed flustered or embarrassed that we’d just been walked in on. If anything, she looked a little smug, and maybe a little excited too, like there was now a witness to the fact that she’d been with a rock star. A C-class rock star to be sure, but by the look on her face, my relative anonymity didn’t matter.

Holding my position over my date, I calmly asked Joey, “Do you need something?”

Like there was electricity in the air, Joey’s dark hair bristled. Her equally dark eyes narrowed. I knew that look. She was about to go off on me. I also knew that anything I said right now would be inconsequential and would only prolong her rant, and what I really wanted right now was for her to leave, so I decided that whatever she said, I’d just stay quiet until she was through. We could talk about it later, when she was calmer. That was the best way to deal with Joey.

“You are such a piece-of-shit man whore! I can’t believe I fucking slept with you not twenty-four hours ago, and here you are, banging some cunt that you probably met at Sluts-R-Us!”

I raised an eyebrow but kept the rest of my expression even. One, I technically wasn’t banging my date yet, you interrupted us before we got that far. Two, I slept with you over two days ago, not twenty-four hours. And three, I picked her up at the grocery store, not Sluts-R-Us. But if there was actually a store called Sluts-R-Us, Griffin would live right next door to it. He’d probably be part owner in the chain…so, I’d probably get a discount. Either that or he’d charge me double.

My mouth twitched, but I contained my smile. Grinning would just piss Joey off even more. Why the hell did she care about this anyway? It’s not like the other night had been anything but fun for us. She’d even told me that before we’d started. And I certainly hadn’t gotten all bent out of shape when she’d brought a guy over. Last night, if memory served. Ha! She was mixing up her man whores.

Still enflamed, Joey continued with her scolding. “I should have known that meant nothing to someone like you! You’re going to be alone for the rest of your life, Kellan! Because you’re a worthless piece of shit, and everyone knows it.”

My mood darkened as she struck a chord. I knew what I was, and I knew I was destined to be alone. I didn’t need Joey to point it out for me. I’d been well aware of my fate my entire life; my parents had made sure to remind me often enough that I would never be good enough for anything but wasting space. Clenching my jaw, I mentally prepared some vitriol of my own. Joey didn’t give me the chance to spout it though. With her nose so high in the air I could almost see up it, she bit out, “I’m out of here. I don’t ever want to see you or your whore again!”

She slammed the door shut, practically splintering the frame. Bitch. How the hell had I lived with her for so long? The anger inside me slowly melted into icy sadness. Spiteful and hypocritical as she was, she’d also hit the nail right on the head. I wasworthless. I would always be alone. There may be short reprieves, but in the end, I was going to be on my own. And knowing that it was going to turn out that way sucked.

I almost forgot about the girl with me until she spoke. “Wow, what a bitch.” Her stormy eyes were staring at my closed bedroom door.

“Yeah, that’s my roommate. Well, ex-roommate, now. I think.”

The blonde looked down at me and shrugged, like she didn’t really care either way. From the seductive smile on her face, it was clear she still wanted me. Apparently, me being chewed out for being a philandering asshole and her being called a cunt from Sluts-R-Us had done nothing to change her mood. In fact, it seemed to fire her up.

Reaching down, she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to her face. “I’ve never been caught before,” she breathed. “That was superhot. I want you. Now.” She wrapped her arm around me in a headlock, clamping her mouth onto mine.

While her tongue reached and probed everywhere, I tried to redirect my mind and lose myself in the physical closeness that came along with sex. That was my favorite part, and I desperately wanted to feel it right now. My head was spinning though, reflecting on everything Joey had just yelled at me.

     Worthless. Alone.

Then the girl beneath me writhed in pleasure, and I sucked in an exaggerated breath so she’d know I was paying attention. I wasn’t though. Struggling to get into it, I sort of felt like I was running on autopilot as my hands roamed her body: cheek, neck, breast, stomach, inner thigh, sweet spot. Squeeze, pinch, stroke, repeat. While I was having difficulties staying in the moment, the girl sure wasn’t. By her moaning and groaning, you’d think she’d never had an orgasm before in her life. Maybe she hadn’t? Maybe this was her first time. I supposed I should try and make it special for her then. Maybe moan her name in her ear. Shit. What was her name again? Emma, Emmy, Holly, Mollie? Nicki? Fuck, I couldn’t remember.

Feeling aggressive, my date rolled me over and took the top. That was fine with me; her hands on my body felt wonderful. Relaxing, I slowly gave myself over to the feeling of being physically attached to someone. I loved this connection, and I really needed it right now after Joey’s attack. The girl’s lips traveled down my body and her almost-silver hair tickled my skin; I loved that too. Without any rhyme or reason, she switched from flicking her tongue into my belly button to taking me into her mouth. Groaning, I grabbed a handful of the sheet as pure pleasure ignited me. My mind shut off, and I finally started getting into this. Fuck, her mouth around my cock felt so good. When I could feel the buildup reaching an almost painful point, she stopped. I snapped my head up to stare at her. God, now she becomes a tease?

Eyes hooded, she licked her lips. “You are so fucking hot. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me, right now. Hard and fast.”

Direct and to the point. Okay. I was wound up enough that I could do both of those things. Pushing her over, I climbed on top of her. When I tried to pull away, she wrapped her legs around my hips, like she was going to work her way onto me. Geez, patience.I unwrapped her legs and she frowned; there was even a hint of a glare in her eyes. Crooking a smile, I leaned down and gave her a swift lick between her thighs. Her frown vanished like I knew it would. While she squirmed and begged for me to do that again, I opened a drawer on my nightstand. I was running low on condoms, which was why I’d picked some up today, but I was sure there was at least one left in here. Shoving my hand to the very back of the drawer, I found one in between a couple of CD cases. Thank God. I really didn’t want to go downstairs right now. Grabbing the package, I opened it and rolled the condom on before my date could complain too much about my absence.

Damn. When I drove into her, she wasn’t as tight as I liked, but she felt good…really good. As I lay down on top of her, she screamed my name. Literally. My ears rang a little. She was so ready for me that moving inside of her was a piece of cake. I gave her a deep thrust, sinking as far in as I could, and cringed as she screamed again. Was I really satisfying her so much that she couldn’t stifle the screaming?

“Yes, Kellan! Harder! Faster!”

She said it so loud I was sure everyone on my block could hear her. Maybe that was the point. As I pumped into her again and again, she wrapped her arms and legs around me. Feeling something even nicer than my impending climax, I buried my head into the crook of her neck. Her hand came up to gently tangle into my hair, and I finally felt it. That. That connection. That bond. That was what I wanted, what I liked. I desperately tried to hold on to it. Let me feel this for just another minute…

“Harder, Kellan! Oh, God, you’re amazing! Fuck me! Yes, fuck me!”

The connection died away as her screams intensified. I tried to hold on to that intimate feeling, but I couldn’t. The brief moment of connection was gone. Grunting, I dug in deeper and harder. Might as well get this over with. Her cries and moans turned almost theatrical, but I felt her walls tightening around me, so I knew she wasn’t completely faking it. The tightness finally pushed me over the edge too.

“God, yes,” I murmured as I started coming.Fuck. For a second, for a split second as I came, I felt great. Everything about my life was perfect. All was right in the world. Then my orgasm ended.

Pulling out, I rolled over to my back. She was panting beside me, a satisfied expression on her face. “God, you are as amazing as they say.”

I glanced over at her. They say I’m amazing? Who are they exactly? “I’ll be right back.”

Standing up, I opened my bedroom door and walked into the bathroom so I could take off the condom. I knew I should feel amazing right now, but I felt strange. More incomplete. It was getting to be a familiar feeling, right after sex. Like waking up with a hangover, I always felt slightly crappier than I had before. While I stared at myself in the mirror and debated my confusion, I heard my date stirring in my room. Hopefully she wasn’t going through my stuff, although it didn’t really matter. Aside from my car, my guitar, and my journals full of lyrics, I had nothing of value.

A second later, the blonde popped out into the hallway. Luckily Joey had left the house and wasn’t in her room. She might have slugged this girl. Or me. Really, what was her problem?

The girl whose name I couldn’t quite recall was now fully dressed. She sighed as she gazed at my lean, naked body. “God, if I had time, I would stay and totally do that again with you.” She shrugged. “I’ve got to get my sister’s car back though.” Stepping into the bathroom, she tossed her arms around me and gave me a hug. “I had a lot of fun. Thanks!” She kissed my shoulder, then swatted my bare bottom. “See you around, Kellan.” Giggling, she added, “I can’t believe I just had sex with Kellan Kyle.”

Then she kissed my arm again and practically skipped down the hall to the stairs. The front door opened and shut a minute later. Still staring out the bathroom door, I whispered, “Bye.” Returning my eyes to the mirror, I inhaled a deep breath. Just another Tuesday afternoon. Disappointment flooded me; I should feel better than this. When I was younger, the euphoria from sex had stayed with me for a long time. Sometimes for days. Now though…it faded almost instantly. Something was missing. I felt hollow and even lonelier than before the sex…and I had no idea what to do to change that.

**

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