“Hey!” I finally caught an elbow but didn’t get a good enough hold because she immediately wiggled free. Her shoes clattered across the floor before my bedroom door burst open and then slammed shut. I listened to her race down the hall and slam the front door as well.
Blowing out a long breath, I rolled onto my back and stared up at my dark ceiling, seeing basically nothing.
What had just happened had been...yeah. That had been something else.
I’d known she wasn’t Kelly immediately. The lack of giggling and constant talking had kind of tipped me off. Then she’d gone and let it escape that she’d never been with me before. Her mentioning rumors of me only doing it in the dark from behind let me know she had to be someone from Kelly’s clique, though.
I’d been a little bored lately, you see, so I’d started up this game with myself where I fucked each girl from the same group in a specific position. For example, I did all the Alpha Delta Pi sorority sisters in reverse cowgirl. Teaching majors were strictly oral. And the athlete groupies got it doggie style. That way, when they talked amongst themselves, they all realized I did them the same way, and they began to think I had some weird tick, or something.
Not really sure why I’d started up such a bizarre game with myself, but it amused the hell out of me to fuck with their heads.
So, that’s why I assumed my new midnight visitor was another football groupie... Until the first moment she’d forgotten to disguise her voice or when she’d said my name in that tone I’d recognize anywhere.
I’d frozen solid, with my hand on her warm, bare thigh, not sure what to do and completely unable to believe Caroline was in my bedroom, bent over my table. Suddenly harder than I’d ever been in my life, I shook my head, trying to deny it. I mean, no possible way could that have been Caroline’s flesh that had heated my palm. Uh-uh.
First of all, she wouldn’t have the audacity. Okay, scratch that; she definitely had the nerve. That was one of the reasons I was so hot for her. She could be a gutsy little spitfire whenever she put her mind to it.
But she wouldn’t...damn, she wouldn’t stroll in here posing as Kelly, would she? She’d been pissed at me earlier this evening; I would’ve thought she’d be more likely to smash my nuts into a hand vise than give my cock the ride of its life.
So, yeah, I had to be wrong. It hadn’t been her, no matter how much her voice had sounded like Caroline’s, no matter how much she’d smelled like Caroline, and no matter how much she’d felt as I would imagine Caroline would feel. Silky hair, soft skin, perfectly firm but malleable breasts, and the tightest, hottest pussy to ever squeeze my cock.
Oh, shit. Had I just had my cock inside Caroline’s pussy? I’d definitely treated her as I’d never treated a woman in the sack before, admitting that personal shit about my sister, kissing her temple, holding hands while we came together.
But no. No fucking way. It couldn’t be.
Still...the idea of it turned me on like nothing else.
I lay there in my bed that felt extra empty without her and I started to grow hard again, just thinking about the possibility that I might’ve just had my dick in the woman I’d been craving for nearly a year.
I shuddered. No, no, no. It hadn’t been her. I’d only been giving her Caroline’s qualities because she was the one woman I wanted more than anything and I didn’t know who she really was.
Sitting up on my mattress, I flipped on my bedside light. But no matter how fast my midnight visitor had lit out of here, she hadn’t left anything behind; nothing to prove she’d been Caroline, but nothing to disprove it either. I was fleetingly tempted to race after her and find out who she’d really been—I could probably still catch her in the parking lot—but then...did I honestly want to know?
I ran my hands through my hair and then I squeezed my head hard, telling myself Kelly had just switched off with one of her friends this evening because...hell, who knew why. Who cared? I still couldn’t get over how good it’d been.
But getting off from hair pulling? Hmm. Interesting.
I finally got around to tossing my condom, then I flopped onto my bed, naked. I stared up in the direction of my dark ceiling, reliving every minute of my midnight visit.
My brain was still tangled with thoughts of her the next morning...until some asshole interrupted my fond memories.
“Hey, how do you spell informative?”
“Hmm?” I grunted when Gamble kicked me under the table. “What?”
“Informative,” he said. “How’s it spelled?”