Page 27 of The Betrayal

I gave up reading her essay. I was over what happened last night in that room. I was fine. I had my moment yesterday, then I forgot all about it when my dad’s best friend’s dick was inside of me.

Dropping my phone, I cover my hands with my face and shake my head.

So stupid and reckless.

Don’t even know if we used a condom which was even more stupid.

I need to shower. Yeah. I’m going to shower then put this shit show behind me and move on.

Two reckless decisions.

A banging headache and awkward tension between me and Keaton from now on, no doubt.

Dropping the sheet, I walk for my bathroom and scrub myself clean. Flashbacks play over of me and Keaton and I’m not mad about it. My skin feels hot, my breath ragged as they play out in front of me.

Our fingers interlocked, his lips grazing across my jaw, my neck, my collarbone until they’re back on my mouth again. Legs wrapped over his hips, our bodies molded into one. Perspiration glistens over our skin, my lips parted as I enjoy every moment. He moves slow, riding me until we have nothing left to give.

Tension is wound tight and I’m mad that I was too drunk to even remember how he felt. How we felt together. It’s no secret that I crushed on Keaton, but he never knew. I was a pity fuck, I knew that. He knew that. There would never be anything more than this drunken night between us.

Maybe it was hotter in my head. Maybe these flashbacks are just a fantasy and instead of creating magic and sending me to heaven temporarily, maybe we were a sloppy mess who both fell asleep on each other.

Probably more like it.

First—and potentially only—time sleeping with my dad’s best friend, and I can’t remember it.

What a travesty.

Leaving the shower, I sit on the edge of my bed wrapped in a towel and dry myself. Grabbing clean panties, I slip them up my legs and discard the towel to the floor.

Memories float before my eyes once more, heat blossoming between my thighs. I press my thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure that is building but nothing stops it.

Trembling fingers reach inside the bottom drawer, fumbling for my vibrator. I’m on the edge of my bed, in just my panties because this hangover is no joke and everything is taking twice as long. But not my want, nor my need.

I tease the head of my toy over my pantie covered sex, and I am aching for release. My stomach tightens into a knot, my skin pebbles in goosebumps as I slip between my folds, teasing at my entrance. Wetness pools inside my panties and my cheeks pinch crimson.

Pressing the on button, I slip the panties to the side and massage my clit softly with the head of the toy. My head rolls back, my hips buck and roll on top of the bed as I slip the vibrator through my pussy, teasing at my entrance before focusing back on my clit.

My mind is loud and heavy and messy with a fantasy of me and Keaton.

A fistful of my hair, one knee on the bed, the other widened as he stands behind me. Back arched, breasts pushed out as he guides his thick cock into me, slowly at first, warming me up.

I moan, my free hand rolling my nipple between my fingers.

Curling a hand round my hip, he holds me still and slips his cock in and out of me with ease, pulling to the tip before filling me to the hilt.

I am stretched and full, tightly wrapped around him and enjoying every moment. My fingers rub over my clit as his pace quickens, fucking me with harshness and I feel everything inside of me wound tight begin to unwind, pressure building until it has no choice but to explode deep inside of me.

Crying out, the vibrator is inside of me, my fingers are on my clit and I come.

Hard.

My body trembles, my head rolling forward, my lips rubbing together as I perish into nothing, but a pool of mess made by my own doing.

Placing my used toy on the bed, I feel so much better. Slowly rolling my head around, my heavy eyes flutter open to see Keaton leaning against the doorway, thick, muscly arms crossed against his chest, eyes so fucking dark they instill a fear deep inside of me.

But I crave his touch. His lips. His eyes on me, burning into the depths of my soul.

“Arizona…” he rasps, and I shiver as his voice fills my room, “what have you done?”