A/N: I literally just binged all of this series on Netflix and my inspiration is running well! Let's see how long this lasts lol enjoy xx Mariah
Riley dreamt of Kyle every night since Lacey had told her that little bit of information about him. Who knew something so insignificant could ruin her like this?
She laid away awake at night, wanting to avoid the inevitable. She knew if she closed her eyes he would be there, haunting her. She stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the comforter and sheets on her as the bedroom door jiggled.
She sat up, the blanket falling open as she moved to get out of bed. Her foot had just touched the floor as the door opened, revealing a shirtless Kyle. A dream version of him walked toward her, her eyes falling over him as he kissed her.
Why did he always look so good when she dreamed him? His hair tousled over his head, white tank top clinging to his muscular chest as his arms moved closer her. His hands traced the curve of her waist through her thin camisole that she slept in, his eyes darkening as she shivered.
"You have no idea," he groaned, his voice low, "the effect you have on me."
As much as she hated him, the pain he brought her, she wanted him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, remembering this night. They were so young then. He was leaning her back on her bed, moonlight streaming through the window and lighting up his tanned skin. His chest was broad and defined and she ran her hands up him, gripping his shoulder tightly.
"Show me then," she whispered, pressing closer.
He groaned, dipping his head forward to press kisses to the column of her neck, making his way slowly to her lips. "You really want to know?" he asked huskily, and she nodded desperately. His hand skimmed up her side again, across her shoulder and down her arm, and when he reached her hand he laced their fingers together. "You'll allow it?"
Her lips curved into a grin. "I'll allow it."
And then he was dragging her hand down, down, down, between their hips to stroke him. That was the
first time she'd ever touched him. When he'd come into his bedroom of the apartment when she was sixteen. She'd snuck over to spend the night with him, Evan asleep in the other room. He'd moaned, his hips thrusting up, and she finally understood the effect she had—
She woke then, her eyes blinking away to the wall. She must've fallen asleep at some point. She didn't remember when. She wiped her eyes and looked at the clock. Nearly five. Sunlight streamed into the room from the window and the last time she remembered seeing on the clock was eleven. She supposed that was good. That meant she actually slept a little.
A fire burned deep inside her belly then, one she hadn't felt in so long. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Kyle's lips felt against her fingers. The way his hands moved over her skin. Or the way he filled her. She had been thinking of their first time again. The way his hips rested against her when he used to rolled over in the middle of the night. The way his fingers curled into her. The soft sounds of approval he made when she took him in her mouth that first time.
Oh.
She recognized the feeling set in now, the shiver that set low on her spine and the heat that threatened to consume everything. She'd remembered times waking up like this in the middle of the night curling into her husband's side, waking him with a touch or a kiss because she'd want to make love to him in the dark of the night.
The thought about touching herself now was unnatural. She wasn't used to. She hardly ever had to do, but before she even knew it, her hand traveled down over her slim thighs, moving gingerly under the sheet.
Oh Kyle.
Her hips thrashed, her thighs clamping shut. She hadn't done this in year, she realized, but the less she thought about it, the easier it was. Her mind fought her at some point and she needed more. She needed so much more.
More thoughts. That time at the beach after they'd gotten married. Travis had been so little. She'd just lost all the baby weight. The beach in Galveston. Oh god the beach with Kyle. And then she thought about Evan, without even thinking. Evan shirtless, mowing her lawn and his sweat arms. His musclar chest as she chuckled, wiping his face clea. And then Kyle on his birthday, his lips on her neck as he carried her to their room. He pulled her jeans off and taken her on the bed from behind, his usual on his birthday.
And then Evan. He was walking toward her as she laid on the bed, touching her face. Mark was there too, how close he'd been to kissing her. His lips touching hers, yet they hadn't kiss Then he was Kyle, but as he leaned in to claim her lips he was Evan. So much Evan.
It didn't take much time after that.
She gasped, throwing her head back as her body trembled and her hand stopped moving. And for a fluttering second everything was as fast as her heartbeat. Then the world slowed again and her fingers were sticky and between her legs was stickier still, and she had never been so ashamed.
Evan had made her come. He'd gotten her there. Evan.
She rolled over in bed, closing her eyes as she clamped her thighs shut.
This could never happen again.