She woke up gasping for breath, and found her heartbeat racing and her sheets damp with sweat. Screwing up her face in exhausted frustration, Myka rolled over and squinted at the digital clock on her bedside table, groaning to herself when she found the display registering the early hours of the morning. If she got up and started walking around now, she'd wake up the entire occupancy of the B&B, but now that she was awake, the chances of finding her way back to sleep were slim. Myka hated herself in these moments. More specifically, she hated the telltale ache between her legs that indicated exactly what she'd been dreaming about. Huffing out an irritated breath, Myka flipped her pillow over and buried her face in it. Falling in love with Pete Lattimer had been so easy; after all, no one knew her quite like he did. They'd been through so much together, and he was her very best friend, so loving him was never going to be a stretch. At first, it was all fun and games; Myka would catch Pete smiling at the smallest things that she did, and Pete made her feel so completely safe no matter what they were doing. But despite their happiness, it was clear to everyone who knew that that their dynamic as partners changed as they tried to establish their relationship. Pete stopped messing around and making jokes, while Myka started taking illogical risks, and even though they tried to work it out, after two months of increasingly awkward moments, the pair forced themselves to have the discussion they'd been trying desperately to avoid. There were protests and tears on both their parts, but eventually they agreed to bring the relationship to a close before their friendship was ruined completely. Awkwardness ultimately followed, and Myka was incredibly grateful for the presence of Claudia and Steve during those days, but gradually her groove with Pete returned, and after a while still being in love with her best friend stopped being quite so painful. There was one part that lingered with Myka though, much to her disgust and dismay. During their time in the Warehouse, Pete had never been shy at finding and bedding women, but it had been quite the dry spell for Myka. Pete knew his way around a bedroom, and most definitely around a woman's body, and he'd lit a fire inside of Myka that continued to burn fiercely even after they'd called it quits as a couple. At first she'd tried to ignore it; after all, she was a an intellectual woman, and her mind should have been on so much more than sex, but she found herself lost in dirty little daydreams while wandering the Warehouse floor, and then burning with embarrassment when Pete or Claudia snapped her back to reality. Myka then tried to ease the ache herself, but it was a poor substitute and the honest truth was that afterwards she felt worse than when she'd started. One night after she'd literally laid in bed for hours, unable to sleep due to the raging desire coursing through her veins, Myka finally threw her sense and logic aside and practically flew across the hallway to Pete's room. She had to give him his due, Pete did attempt to talk her out of it, but his protests had fallen dead on his lips when Myka had pushed her hand under the elastic of his boxer shorts as she'd forced him back onto the bed. Myka told herself that it was only once, just a need for release that she'd satisfied, but as it turned out, the lure of her ex-boyfriend being just across the hall was too hard to resist. In the month since that first time, she'd been back to Pete's room three more times, and embarrassingly enough, she'd also engaged Pete in a frantic quickie in the stacks where they'd come incredibly close to being caught by Steve. That incident in itself should have been enough to convince Myka to stop what she was doing, but as she rolled over and kicked the damp sheets off of her legs, she couldn't stop the explicit thoughts that were running through her head. Myka hesitantly trailed her hand down her chest, her long fingers teasing her already hardened nipple through the fabric of her nightshirt. Whimpering, she squeezed her eyes shut as she used her thumb to circle the peak of her aching breast. The fingers of her free hand twitched dangerously closer to the hem of her shirt, but Myka's eyes flicked open when she rolled her hips upward unconsciously.
"Shit," she whispered, gazing longingly at the door. It was wrong; what she wanted was so wrong, but her whole body was screaming at her to make a move. Her heartbeat was roaring in her ears, and Myka swore again as she pushed herself into a sitting position and swung her legs off the bed. She moved in silence, her feet barely touching the floor as she exited her room and swiftly dodged the creaky floorboards in the hall. Pete's door was unlocked, as she'd expected it would be, and Myka slipped inside. She lingered by the door, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of light in the room, and then barely managed to hold back a lust-filled moan as her gaze fell on Pete's sleeping form. Of course he was naked, and as he slept face down, his broad shoulders and toned muscles were on full display. God, you could bounce a quarter off that ass. Myka gripped the doorknob to stop herself from throwing herself directly at the bed. As if he sensed her presence, one of Pete's eyelids slowly opened, and he lifted his head to give her a sly and sleepy smile.
"Hey hey hey," he rasped, winking at her before rolling slowly onto his side and giving Myka the full view of his already growing erection. Cursing his cocky confidence, and her complete lack of self control, Myka stepped quickly across the room, tugging her shirt, which she suddenly realised was actually one of Pete's, over her head and throwing it to the floor. Pete reached out and snaked an arm around her, and in one fluid movement pulled her down onto the bed and pinned her underneath him. His mouth was instantly on her breast; Pete was and always would be a boob man; but he pressed his heavy erection against her core, and after a moment he broke contact with her nipple so he could grin wickedly at the woman beneath him.
"You're soaking wet," he commented. "Little self-service before you made it here?"
"Shut up," Myka snapped at him, grasping at his face as she pulled him into a rough kiss. Pete continued to stroke his cock up and down her slit even as their tongues waged war, and he gasped for breath as he eventually broke away.
"I guess we can forgo the foreplay then," he quipped with a naughty little grin, and Myka glowered at him.
"Why do you insist on ruining this with talking?" she hissed, pinching at one of his nipples spitefully. Pete pinched one of her nipples in retaliation, and Myka yelped as a shot of pain-driven desire hit her body. Letting out a wicked chuckle, Pete barely hesitated as he repositioned himself at the entrance of her core, and Myka wrapped her legs around his waist as she welcomed him inside of her. They both muffled satisfied moans into each other's necks as they joined together, a perfect fit despite their failed relationship. Myka clenched herself around him, and then her eyes flicked open in panic.
"Pete," she hissed forcefully. She was on the pill, but up until now they'd always been extra careful with protection. Pete pushed a damp curl off of her forehead.
"Relax, I got it," he rumbled softly. Myka wanted to argue with him, but she lost her focus when he thrust himself even further inside of her. Instead, she arched her pelvis upward to meet him and bit down on her knuckle to stop herself from moaning too loudly. They'd gotten quite good at doing this in near quiet; Claudia's room was on the other side of the wall, and even though Myka knew the younger agent slept with earplugs in, it was horrifying to think that she could hear what was going on. As Pete continued his practiced thrusting, he nudged Myka's finger aside with his nose and covered her mouth with his own, allowing them both the opportunity to muffle each other's satisfied groaning as they kissed. Myka dug her fingernails into Pete's shoulders, not caring if she broke the skin, and in what could only be deemed retaliation, Pete broke away from their kiss and sucked hard on her collarbone. Wriggling uncomfortably even as she bit back a whine of pleasure, Myka smacked at Pete's arm.
"I have to explain that later," she growled, and Pete grinned devilishly as he ran a hand down her side and then gripped her thigh as he changed the angle of hips. Myka sighed and threw her head back against the pillow, but she could tell by Pete's ragged breathing that she wouldn't be in that position for long. She peered up at him and found his brow wrinkled in concentration.
"Should I..." she whispered, and Pete managed a grunt as he pulled back long enough for Myka to flip herself over and arrange herself on all fours. She'd barely gotten a grip on the headboard before Pete grabbed her hips and pushed into her again. There was no gentleness to his action now. Pete drilled into her at a rapid pace, and Myka screwed up her face as she tried desperately not to cry out her pleasure. She felt Pete's fingers edge downwards towards her centre, and she couldn't help but whimper when his fingertip hit her swollen clit. Pete pressed down hard on the bundle of nerves, working it in a frantic circle even as he continued to stroke in and out of her, and Myka felt her toes start to curl.
"Come on, sweetheart," Pete urged with a whispered hiss, and that was all she needed to push her over the crest of the wave she'd been precariously balancing on. She came hard, her walls flexing around Pete, and he gave her a moment before sliding out of her. Panting, Myka rolled indelicately onto her back, but she barely had time to catch her breath before Pete was kneeling over her, stroking himself relentlessly until he found his own release, coming in hot, thick spurts over Myka's lower belly as he bit back a groan of satisfaction. Still shaking slightly, Myka watched uncertainly as Pete reached out and carefully scooped a small amount of his cum onto his thumb, and then lowered the digit to rest it on Myka's overstimulated clit. He barely had to touch her to bring on her second orgasm in a matter of minutes, and Myka's face contorted in a silent shout as she practically levitated off the bed. Leaving Myka to catch her breath, Pete leaned off the edge of the bed and came back with a small towel, which he tossed in Myka's general direction. Wrinkling her nose as she tried not to think of reasons why Pete would have a towel on the floor, Myka cleaned herself off as delicately as possible before dropping it over the side of the bed and rolling onto her stomach. She pushed her sweat-soaked hair off of her face and rested her chin on her hands as she glanced over at Pete. He'd lost the cocky expression, and he was studying her, his coffee-coloured eyes flicking over her features.
"What?" Myka asked, squinting at him suspiciously.
"Mykes, should we talk about this?" he asked softly, and Myka threw her head back as she let out a low moan of frustration.
"There's nothing to talk about," she murmured at him. "It's not happening again."
Pete gave her a put-on look.
"I've heard that before," he shot at her, and Myka glared at him as she sat up and felt around on the floor for her shirt.
"Leave it, Pete," she growled forcefully, tugging the shirt over her head and getting to her feet.
"Myka," Pete murmured, but Myka was already at the door.
"I can stop whenever I want," she bit out, willing herself to believe her own words as in her next breath she said, "We're not hurting anyone."
Pete's face contorted for a split-second, not long enough for Myka to completely register the meaning behind the expression, and then he huffed out a breath.
"Ok then," he muttered, his tone slightly wounded. "Night, Mykes." He rolled over and stuck his head under a pillow, effectively ending the conversation. Myka felt a heaviness settle in her gut, and she hesitated for a moment before she put a shaky hand on the doorknob and slipped out of the room. Back in her own room, she picked up her old teddy bear and hugged it to her chest as she curled up in the armchair in the corner. She let out an unhappy sigh as she gazed out of the window, watching as a cloud slowly drifted in front of the moon. Pete was clearly hurt by the way Myka was using him, and if she was honest, Myka was hurting herself as well, so what they were doing had to stop. She'd never really get over Pete, but neither of them would ever move on, so long as she continued to visit his bed. Myka buried her face in her stuffed bear as she willed herself not to cry. There would be no more falling off of the wagon. This would be her last relapse.