We went fast and then slow.

He was deep within me, trying to meet my end. If it weren't for the amazing s.e.x, Jake and I would have ended sooner. He knew how to move inside of me, and he was s.e.xy as f.u.c.k. Each time I stared into his green eyes, I felt a slight tinge of guilt . . . I knew what we were doing was wrong. So did he. But our bodies wanted it more than logic. Before he came again, I scratched my nails down his back, deep. He arched his back and sighed with pleasure, and I demanded he give himself to me. Then he did.

After our bodies were worn out, we lay staring at the ceiling, practically gasping for air. My heart was racing so fast, and I could see the vein in Jake's neck pumping at the same speed. It was intense being with him. It was like time traveled back five years before everything went downhill. Before I was lost in thought, he threw his arm over my stomach and pulled me close to him. He smelled my hair and rubbed his hand across my stomach. f.u.c.king cuddling. This is so wrong. But, G.o.d, it had been so long.

We fell asleep.

In the morning, I was wrapped in a silk sheet and our legs were twisted together. A heavy arm pinned me to the bed and sheets. I lifted it and wiggled free then went to the bathroom. Streaks of mascara lined my face, and my hair was a disaster. I turned on the shower and stepped inside. After scrubbing every inch, I wrapped a thick towel around my body. Jake was leaning against the bathroom door, naked. Once I moved out of his way, he turned the water back on and stepped inside the shower. The outline of his strong body reflected through the gla.s.s door.

"Any plans today?"

I spit toothpaste into the sink. "Not sure," I said. "Thought about going to the office. We've got several interviews next week, and I kind of need to look over all the resumes beforehand."

"Weekends are your rest time, Rox. You know that."

Suddenly, all the nagging that went on in our relationship came back to me full force. He hated that I worked so much, but I had no choice, I knew my destiny before it happened. "Did you forget what responsibility I hold?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know we can't fall back to where we were before. It's just hard."

"I know." I spit more toothpaste into the sink. This was why I didn't want to reopen what I had sealed years ago. s.e.x without emotions doesn't work when two people had been in a relationship. With strangers, it didn't matter, because there was no care past the s.e.x. Unfortunately, the heart remembered old love just like the body remembered how to ride a bike. Neither forgot. I walked over to the shower and cracked open the sliding door. Water sprinkled across his chest and ran down his face.

"It won't work, Jake. We won't work."

It wasn't quite the response I expected, but he smiled. "You don't have to keep telling me, I know. I have no expectations this time. But you have to admit . . . the s.e.x was great. Neither of us has anything better going on right now. Or do you?" He grabbed the soap and washed himself. I didn't know how to answer that question. I didn't have anything better going on. But I would never be able to fully move on if I had Jake in my life again, even if it was just s.e.x.

"No, but . . ." I whispered.

"But, what?"

"This is hard since we were friends before getting together. It's hard because we tried to be friends after, and that didn't work. And here we are. This is not going to be easy," I said.

"You make the calls. No obligation," he said, and I knew the conversation was over.

Before I left, I rinsed my mouth out and toothbrush off. The outfits that I didn't wear were crumpled on the floor, so I picked them up and placed them in the back of my closet. My phone buzzed with a text message, and I knew who it was before I looked.

Stacey: I'll need all the details of last night during lunch. BTW. I feel like I got hit by a train.

Me: What time? I feel great. ;) Stacey: I'll be there in thirty minutes. Hopefully there isn't any f.u.c.king traffic on the loop.

Jake entered.

I looked down at my phone, then back at him. "You have to leave, right now."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because your sister will be here in thirty minutes, and I'd like to keep what happened between us, exactly as that, between us. You know?"

The towel was wrapped low on his hips, showing just enough of that s.e.xy V to make me want to cancel with Stacey. He licked his lips. I tucked my bottom lip inside of my mouth.

"You don't have fifteen minutes?" he asked.

I contemplated the time, but he knew it wasn't going to happen. Instead of continuing on, he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. The smell of his skin was so clean and so Jake. I closed my eyes and pushed the thoughts of him away. His clothes were all over the apartment, and somehow he quickly found them all. Before he left, he gave me a goodbye hug.

It felt final, and that was okay. It wasn't the first time I've experienced this with him, but I had to make sure it was the last time.

SINGLE: VOLUME 1 BY LYRA PARISH.

6.

Stacey told me every detail about last night as we sat on the patio at Ch.e.l.lo's, a little cafe downtown. The weather was perfect, a comfortable seventy-five degrees, which was cool for Texas. Big sungla.s.ses covered both of our faces, hiding the fun of last night and the brightness of the afternoon sun. Almost simultaneously, we leaned back in our chairs with big smiles.

The umbrella flaps tapped against the top as the wind flowed through the alley. People walked down the sidewalks, talking on their cell phones. It was another busy Sat.u.r.day. That was what I loved about the city the most, the constant flow. It seemed like no one slept. Together, we were all stuck on a constant loop of business and play.

Stacey pulled me from my moment with the city, but that was okay. "Two men and a woman."

Somehow, it was not surprising, but I had no reason to judge her. To each her own. That was what Orleans was about, she reminded me-s.e.x. She asked about my night, but watched my face closely as I spoke. Apparently, I did this little twitching with my nose when I lied. And ever since she figured it out when we were in high school, she looked for it.

"Sort of one guy and Jake," I said. "Both in the hot tub."

"At the same time?" She was being loud, way too loud. Someone looked over at me and I bit my bottom lip.

"G.o.d, no. Different times." My words were quiet but harsh. With hope that no one overheard what she said, my eyes drifted back and forth to see if anyone was looking at us. My eyebrows furrowed, and I tightened my lips. I did not want to draw attention to myself or have anyone eavesdrop on our conversation. Once I verified that my secret was safe, I slinked back in my chair. She lifted her eyebrow at me, and I braced myself for the b.i.t.c.hfest.

"You and Jake cannot do this again. It's unhealthy. You'll be depressed, and so will he. I can't handle it again."

"We've talked about it. He knows it's not going anywhere, and so do I. We just f.u.c.ked."

"It's never just f.u.c.king with the two of you. You know that. I know that. Do not tell me how great the s.e.x is. Do not tell me that it won't go anywhere. The two of you are toxic together. It has to stop." Her words rang true. It really had to be over between us.

"Did he stay with you last night?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes. It was enough of an answer for her. She started in on me again, and I interrupted her before she continued. "Neither of us has anything better going on."

She snapped at me. "Rox! You won't have anything better going on as long as you are f.u.c.king my brother."

Once again, she was right. Instead of telling her that I agreed, the waiter arrived and placed our food in front of us. I tucked my hands in my lap and stared at the fresh salad on my plate. Blue cheese was sprinkled around deep red tomatoes and ripe strawberries. I took a sip of the peach mimosa, then looked at her. "It's either with Jake or guys from the Internet."

"No. There are other options. Options without relationships. We both know you can't handle a f.u.c.king relationship right now, and you cannot handle the drama that comes with Jake. Not with the huge project at work right around the corner and the holidays. Not to mention all those lame-a.s.s interviews you'll be doing over the next two weeks. You need to relax. Tonight, you are coming with me. I've been invited to a special house party, and I refuse to let you travel down the same path with my brother. I know he was a rebound after the accident, and that he really helped you move on, but you cannot do this to yourself again. You were a mega b.i.t.c.h with Jake, and I can't handle it."

Heat rushed to my face and a jolt of panic coursed through my veins. Losing the only person I ever loved destroyed and broke me, almost to the point of being unfixable. Jake couldn't repair me. Perhaps no one would be able to. Maybe I would find the right person to help put all of my tattered pieces back together, or maybe I wouldn't. I knew love existed, but I often felt my ability to love and be loved was buried with Charlie six years ago. I missed Charlie, my fiance, best friend, confident, and lover. When my breathing increased, Stacey placed her hand on mine and squeezed. A soft smile covered her face, and I buried the memories of him back in that secret place inside my heart where they stayed. She wouldn't pressure me into a Charlie discussion. It would only end badly.

"I was not a mega b.i.t.c.h," I said, getting the conversation back on track.

"I'm sorry but you were unbearable. Angry. Depressed. Total b.i.t.c.h. Jake was overprotective and jealous. He's my brother and I love him but you don't need that in your life again, and you're going with me." Then she started begging. "Please do not make me go alone. It's single's night. Our charge is cheap."

Money wasn't an issue. She knew this, but liked to tease me regardless.

"Live a little, Rox. When you're eighty, with ten kids and a gazillion grandkids, you'll look back at moments like these and be happy that you experienced life without regret when you were young. Trust me."

Trust. The word was so small, but carried so much with it. Trust was something that I had placed in only a few people. Being in the position that I was in at work caused me to trust few, but I knew that I could trust Stacey. She'd been through it all with me.

I sucked in a deep breath and released it. "Alright then, I'll go."

She squealed, loud. Nothing about her was ever quiet. Extrovert. If my sungla.s.ses weren't so dark, she would have seen me roll my eyes. I took a few more bites of salad as she explained the dress code and rules for tonight.

"Dress to impress, as always. Since it's a house party, it will be a little different than last night. We can pay to stay the night, and breakfast will be served in the morning. I'll let you decide, but I need to know before four p.m., so I can make overnight accommodations. Of course, we can make them there if they aren't full, but it's an extra charge. Masquerade is the theme again tonight, so bring that mask."

"Where do we sleep? Please tell me it's not on the s.e.x beds."

"Seriously, Rox. They have extra rooms set aside for sleeping, not f.u.c.king. But if you wanted to f.u.c.k in your room, then I'm sure you could, but not everyone will be f.u.c.king in your room, just you. But I'm sure-"

"Okay. d.a.m.n. I get it." For a moment, I wondered if the two older women sitting a few tables over could hear our conversation. If they were listening, they were getting an earful of s.e.x talk. One day that would be Stacey and me. But I had a feeling we would join in on the conversation about our s.e.xscapades and give relationship advice, or at least Stacey would. The thought made me laugh.

The waiter slid the check holder to the edge of the table, and I placed my credit card inside. The waiter brought my card back, Stacey placed a twenty inside, and I signed the ticket. We took turns paying and tipping.

Long legs led the way down the sidewalk to where we parked along the street. Before we parted ways, I told her that I wanted to shop for something new to wear. She smirked at me then mumbled something about two blocks, take a left, try the leather cat suit, then climbed inside her Mercedes. A well-known kink store sat a few blocks down the street. While I had never been inside, the thought of exploring it excited me. I'd been curious, but that would end now. Today, I was thankful for big sungla.s.ses that easily hid my face from anyone who could recognize me. Everyone wears masks, the words the bartender said last night echoed through my thoughts.

Before I entered, I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and hoped there was no one inside that I knew. My expectations were . . . on second thought, I had none. The windows were covered with displays that people couldn't see through. From what I could tell, the lights were low. As I stood outside, a couple exited. A woman looked me up and down, then smiled at me.

"f.u.c.k it," I whispered, and pushed the door open.

Fetish, women's s.e.x toys, men's s.e.x toys, adult videos, and lingerie . . . this store had everything. An older woman approached me. Her nametag said Helen, but the H was big and swirly. It had character, and I smiled. She returned the gesture.

"You're new to this, aren't you?"

I kind of laughed, out of nervousness alone. I didn't remove the sungla.s.ses from my eyes, even though the room was low lit. "Is it written all over my face?" I asked.

"No reason to be shy, hon. We all started somewhere. It's funny how the curious ones tend to wander in like lost sheep."

I slid the sungla.s.ses to the top of my head and looked around. I took it all in: the clothes, accessories, and toys. My eyes roamed to the various mannequins with lace tightly wrapped around their plastic bodies. Others had leather covering every inch, except for their privates, eyes, and mouths. Each one wore a bright-colored wig: hot pink, neon yellow, and orange. Curly-H Helen led me through the store, giving me the grand tour.

"I was told to try on the leather cat suit."

She smirked. "Full body, half, or lingerie?"

"I suppose half?"

She brought me to the back of the store. We pa.s.sed the bondage section with whips, floggers, handcuffs, and chains. Letting my eyes gaze across the rows of collars, I thought about what it would be like to be owned, and for a slight second, the idea excited me. I wanted to be tamed because kink clubs and one-night stands wouldn't satisfy me forever. Deep down, I knew this.

Helen looked through the various leather suits, then looked me up and down and decided that the small would fit. She explained that it stretched just a little bit, but it was meant to be a second skin-tight, and s.e.xy.

"It's all about the confidence you have when you wear it," she said, then handed me a liner for the crotch. She ensured me that most people who tried on the leather bought it. Apparently, it was magical like that. Once the dressing-room door closed, I removed my clothes and struggled to put on the suit. Second skin described it perfectly, but once it was on, holy f.u.c.king h.e.l.l. It accentuated every single part of my body-my a.s.s, waist, b.r.e.a.s.t.s, hips-and I looked good enough to eat.

I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and took a picture, then sent it over to Stacey. The message I attached simply said, you were right about the leather. Moments later, I swung the bag over my shoulder and walked to the car with a hop in my step. Between the leather and the s.e.xy outfits hidden in the back of my closet, I had tons to choose from for tonight.

As I drove home, I couldn't stop thinking about what the night would bring and what last night had already brought.

When I stepped inside the elevator, Mr. Marcy-the Hugh Heffner of the building-was there with another woman, one that I actually didn't recognize. He tilted his head at me and smiled. He was such a nice old guy, probably in his seventies or so, but he got around. That old man f.u.c.ked more than anyone I knew, maybe even more than Stacey. Once inside, I threw the bags on my bed, then I lay back and stared at the ceiling fan. Before I fell into a nap, a text message went off of on my phone.

Dad: Call me.

I rolled my eyes, but did. It was about business. Always.

"Yes, Jeffery," I said when he answered.

"Honey, I've told you a thousand times to call me Dad. Can you come to the office in the next hour? There are a few resumes I'd like you to look over before Monday."

"Can it wait until Monday?" I asked as I placed my arm over my eyes, knowing what his answer would be.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Okay, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The responsibility that came with the position was sometimes not worth it. I understood why I was where I was, but I didn't expect to be the one in charge until I was at least in my forties. The business came first, ahead of my love life or dating, which were both practically non-existent. I often wondered if I would be the Oprah of my generation: fifty, unmarried, but successful as f.u.c.k. It couldn't be that bad, right?

SINGLE: VOLUME 1 BY LYRA PARISH.

7.

Before I left my house, I put on a black skirt, a silk blouse, and a navy-colored cardigan. Just because I had the weekend off, didn't mean everyone did. There were a few marketing teams that worked every other weekend, and I appreciated their diligence and commitment to work.

On the way to the office, I rode with the windows down because it felt so amazing outside. I parked in the front, pulled the sungla.s.ses from my face and tucked them inside my purse. A security guard opened the door and greeted me as I entered. The building had a certain smell to it, like an old school library or museum, though the interior had been updated. Somehow, the smell didn't get old, and it reminded me of my childhood. I pulled my badge from my purse and scanned it, then stepped onto the elevator. Once the door closed, my phone dinged with a text message.

Dad: Main meeting room.

I didn't quite groan out loud, but I knew for a fact that he wasn't the only one in there. I knew that he'd called the entire board, all seven of them, to look over the resumes. Sometimes it was the little things that bothered me about him the most. If he wanted to control everything, then he shouldn't have retired, but he constantly kept me on my toes, and I constantly refused to f.u.c.k up.

The elevator doors opened on the eighteenth floor and, just as I suspected, the marketing team was busy at work discussing sales and metrics. Gently, I tilted my head toward them, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, then continued walking. Their voices fell silent as I pa.s.sed. All I could hear were my heels connecting with the marble floor. I hated that so many people were intimidated by me.

At the end of the hall, the conference room had the blinds pulled down. Before I stepped in, I took a deep breath, fully aware of the bodies that sat around the table on the other side of that door. When I entered, the room was full of the directors, as I suspected, and resumes were spread across the table, hundreds of them in stacks.

"Hi, hun. Glad you could join us," Dad said.

I forced a smile as confusion swept over me.