The Reunion (Kinsley)

"Nooo," I groaned, rolling onto my side and pulling the blanket up to my face.  "Too early, even for me."

"You warned me that you'd argue," Damien pointed out, pulling the blanket down to my knees.  "And you told me to persist.  C'mon, let's get up and run."

I let out a noise that was half sigh, half rabid growl.  Opening my eyes as little as possible, I reached for my phone.  "It's 4:59," I whined.  "It's not even 5!"

Damien paused, his eyes on his watch.  "It is now," he said with a grin, 20 seconds later.  "Up!"

"I hate you and everything else," I informed him, rubbing pathetically at my eyes, which I couldn't seem to open.  "Fuck."

Damien had talked me into a signing up for a 10k with him.  I'm not even a little bit sure how I let that happen, but at this moment I was not pleased about it.  "You know," I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and maybe-or-maybe-not-accidentally kicking him in the hip as I did so, "Some of us prefer to exercise in the evenings."

"But I love running with you when you have such a great attitude about it," he said, straight-faced. "And in the evening you're sort of cheerful.  It's awful."

"Oh, I can give you attitude any time you want," I retorted, pulling a tank top out of my drawer.  I tossed it on the bed and opened the next drawer.  "Where are all my fucking shorts?"

"Probably in the large pile of dirty laundry you have," Damien pointed out helpfully.  I chose to say nothing, instead just giving him a withering look.  He laughed and kissed my cheek.  "Coffee?"

"It's the least you could do," I grumbled.

By the time I had some passably clean-ish shorts and my tank top on, Damien had a cup of coffee for me.  I drank half of it in a couple gulps, then set it down on the counter.  "Okay," I said.  "Let's get it over with."

Oddly enough, after the run, a shower, and more coffee, I felt significantly better.  Good, even.  "Isn't it great to have your workout done already?"  Damien asked, coming out of my bathroom with a towel around his waist.

I eyed that towel hungrily and said, "I mean, I still have some energy left if--"

"Tonight," Damien promised.  "I have to get ready and get out of here."

I frowned.  "Fine, but I'm going to hold you to it!"

"We'll see who is holding who to what later," he replied, leaning down to kiss me.

I groaned.  "You're cruel!" I exclaimed as he straightened.  "Now I'm going to be thinking about it all day."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," he said with a shrug.  "I'll see you tonight.  What time are we meeting Kaleb and his girlfriend?"

"6:30," I said, standing up to kiss him one more time before he left.

Damien let his lips linger on mine, and I wasn't entirely sure I could make it through an entire work day and dinner with my brother and his new girlfriend before getting my hands on him.  "I'll be there," he told me, breaking into my inappropriate thoughts.

We said goodbye and I finished getting ready for work.  I really did feel great after our run this morning.  It probably helped that I really was a morning person.  Just not a 5am morning person.

My work day went fairly fast, though I was slightly nervous about meeting Kaleb's new girlfriend.  My relationship with my brother was still so new itself, I wasn't terribly sure about adding a new person to the mix.  But Kaleb was so excited to introduce me to Ellen, so I felt bad for being so hesitant.

I left work about 10 minutes before 6 and got to the restaurant about 15 minutes early.  I put our name on the list and for a table and went to the bar, hoping a drink would help settle my nerves.  I ordered a run and coke and sipped it slowly, because an appearance by Drunk Kinsley would be the worst thing for the evening.

A gentle hand on my shoulder startled me, and I looked up to see Damien.  "Sorry," he said guiltily.  "I should have known better than to sneak up on you."

"It's okay," I said, tilting my chin up for a quick kiss.  "Hi."

"Hi," he replied, smiling.  He sat down on the empty stool next to me and started to say something else, but then I saw Kaleb come in with a tall, pretty brunette.  I stood up and waved to him and they came over.

Kaleb smiled at us, and I recognized the line between his eyebrows.  He was just as nervous as I was.  "Hey!" I greeted them.  "Kaleb, you remember Damien, right?"  Kaleb had only spent time with Damien once (outside the disastrous Thanksgiving that had reintroduced me to Kaleb in the first place) and it had been awhile.

"Of course, good to see you again," Kaleb said, shaking his hand.  "This is my girlfriend Ellen.  Ellen, this is my sister Kinsley and her boyfriend Damien."  

"Hi, nice to meet you," she said, smiling shyly.

"Nice to meet you too," I said, taking her outstretched hand.  Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from the restaurant letting us know our table was ready.  Technology.

I was really glad Damien was there, because without him, our dinner would have been really awkward.  As it was, Kaleb and I were still awkward at times, and Ellen was quiet.  Damien could talk to anyone, and I was grateful for that.  I loosened up by the time our food came, and I chatted with Kaleb and Ellen, getting to know her.  "How did you guys meet?" I asked.

Ellen blushed and Kaleb laughed.  "I love this story," Kaleb said.  "I was at a bar with some buddies, and I was standing behind Ellen, waiting to get a drink.  Her friend grabbed her ass, and she thought it was me, so she slapped me."  Ellen's face was a color that I've only ever seen on Liv's.  "Luckily, I thought she was pretty, so I didn't hold it against her."

"One of these days I'm going to make something up.  Maybe something that's embarrassing to you!" Ellen exclaimed, but she was laughing.

"I met Kinsley when my friend ran into her friend and knocked her drink on the ground.  That's not nearly as good of a story," Damien said.

"It gets better if you add in that we only got together because your friend pretty much stalked my friend for the next couple weeks," I pointed out.

Damien laughed.  "To this day, James maintains that was all purely coincidental."

Ellen and Kaleb had to leave right after dinner, but Damien and I moved back to the bar to have another drink.  "She seems nice," I said.  "I'm glad I got to meet her."

"You and Kaleb seem a little more comfortable," Damien replied.  It had been a long and awkward road for Kaleb and I to reconnect, but we were both determined to push through it.  We'd been through a lot together and then had been out of communication for so long, some discomfort was to be expected.

We finished our drinks and then headed to Damien's house.  When we got there, Damien looked in the fridge and brought us both a beer.  Luckily it was Friday, so it didn't matter if I got a little tipsy.  I took the beer and took a long drink before I settled against Damien on the couch.  We didn't talk, both of us tired after a long week and an early morning.  We didn't need to, either.  It was one of the things I loved most about Damien--we could simply sit together silently and enjoy being with each other without feeling pressured to make conversation when it wasn't flowing naturally.

After I tipped the last of the beer into my mouth, Damien gently pulled the empty bottle from my fingers and set it on the end table.  "Ready for bed?" he asked.  I nodded, closing my eyes.  Several seconds later, Damien chuckled.  "You need to get up if we're going to bed," he said.

"Right," I replied, still making no move to get up.  Damien shifted so he could stand, then leaned down and before I could stop him, he scooped me up.  I laughed.  "Put me down, I'll walk!"

"Missed your chance," he said, walking to his bedroom with me in his arms.  He set me down on the bed and climbed on with me, kneeling above me as he kissed me.  "Still have some energy left?" he asked, pulling his lips from mine and kissing along my jaw to my neck.

"Always," I responded, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck.  I sighed contentedly as his continued to kiss down my neck and then along the neckline of my shirt.  30 seconds later, and most of my clothes were scattered around the bed.  He teased one nipple with his teeth and tongue, lightly gripped the hair at the back of my head with one hand, and used the other hand to stroke between my legs.  He got me close, then stopped suddenly, leaving me groaning in frustration.

I watched him pull his clothes off and grinned at him as he got back in bed, positioning himself between my legs.  He reached down and stroked me again until I was back to the point of nearly orgasming, then moved his hand and pushed into me.  I gasped and gripped his arms, and it didn't take long for me to come, digging my nails into his triceps and burying my face in his shoulder.  He thrust for several more seconds before pulling out, flipping me onto my stomach, and slamming back into me.   I came again a few minutes later, and he followed close behind.

"I can't believe you made me wait all day for that," I groaned, my face pressed into the pillow.

"Well it would have been really inappropriate to do that at the restaurant," he replied.

I rolled over and smacked him with the pillow.  "Really?"

He laughed and reached for me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer.  "Really," he said, trying to be serious.

I rolled my eyes in the dark, settling against him.  We laid cuddled together for about 10 minutes before my yawning took over and I wiggled away.  "Goodnight, Damien," I mumbled, getting comfortable on my side of the bed.

"Goodnight, Kinsley," he said, leaning over to plant a kiss on my forehead and then one on my lips, lingering gently.  Between the early wake up, the long run that morning, the alcohol, and the sex, I was asleep by the time his lips left mine.

Kinsley: Someday

This is it!  Kinsley's last post.  As soon as I post this, I'm going to start the finale post, which will take a future jump and be from Liv's perspective.  It will be posted by the end of the day next Saturday, possibly sooner.  As much as I've loved writing Liv, Lauren, and Kinsley's stories, I'm looking forward to wrapping it up.  Writing a long, drawn out story is hard.  I know you guys will miss this blog, and I'm so grateful to you all for making this such a well-loved story.  I really hope you'll love the new one just as much.
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The dread I felt as I left Lauren's house subsided as I walked towards Damien's car.  I figured one of two things were about to happen:  I'd tell him everything and he would decide I wasn't worth the work, or I'd tell him everything and we'd be good and that would be that.  I wasn't sure how realistic those options were, but it was calming at the time, so I didn't argue.

But as soon as Damien got out and opened the passenger side door for me, the worry came creeping back in.  "Hi," I said softly as I accepted Damien's hand that he held out to help me into his truck.  "Thanks for picking me up."

"You're welcome," he replied.  He didn't sound happy, but he didn't sound mad.  He just sounded like Damien.

We were both quiet as he drove us to my house.  I was surprised.  I guess I just assumed we'd end up at his house.  Then I got even more worried, because I realized that this way he wouldn't have to bring me home when we broke up.  He'd be able to just leave.  Leave, and go on with his life.

It was 8:30 by the time we got to my house.  My buzz was wearing off and I just felt ridiculous and very tired.  The beginning of a nasty headache was pulsing at my temples.  Why gin, Kinsley?  Ugghh.

We got inside and Damien gave me a weird look.  "Are you drunk?" he asked.

"No," I replied.  He raised an eyebrow.  I rubbed my forehead and clarified.  "I was drunk, now I'm just pathetic and ridiculous."

"You're not--" he started to argue, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

"No, don't," I told him.  "It doesn't matter.  Let's just...can we sit?"  We were both still standing in the entryway of my place

"Yes," he replied, nodding.  He had his game face on, and I had no idea what he was feeling.  It was already making me more anxious.

Once we were sitting down, I said, "Look, I have a lot to say, and I'm not sure how well I'll handle your calmness tonight.  So, if you've got feelings about something, maybe you could try to show it a little?"

His face relaxed slightly, and concern creased his forehead.  "I'll try," he said.  "It's kind of my default mode in a stressful situation, so if it happens, I'm not doing it on purpose, I promise."

I nodded.  That was good enough for me.  I shut my eyes briefly.  So far this conversation was awkward and forced and formal.  "I don't really know where to start," I admitted.  "I just realized a whole lot of things about myself about an hour ago, which sounds really stupid, but it's true.  And it's hard to put it all into words that make sense to someone else."  I bit my lip and looked up at Damien.

He nodded encouragingly, and I opened my mouth and everything came tumbling out.  "I've never been good enough for anyone.  Ever.  I wasn't good enough for my mom to want to take care of me, or my dad to want to keep our family together.  I wasn't good enough to keep my brother out of jail.  They all left me.  Every single one of them.  Lauren and Kendra are the friends I've had the longest, and they're just from the very end of college.  Everyone leaves me, or else I leave them before they can do it themselves.  I've learned to be okay with it, because I just don't get attached to people."

Damien started to talk but I held up a finger.  I wasn't quite finished.  "I used to hate myself.  I really did.  I figured I must be a pretty shitty person if my own parents didn't love me enough to care about what happened to me when I was a kid.  But once I figured out how to live my life in a way that made sense to me, I actually started liking myself.  Then I met you.  And you didn't fit with how I was living my life.  And I started to wonder if what I had been doing really did make sense to me, because I actually seemed to like this new thing better.  For a little while, it was okay.  It was great, actually.  But somewhere along the way I fucked up and got attached to you.  And then you left.  So then I got back to feeling like I'm not good enough.  And at least if I fuck things up, it'll be my fault and not just because you suddenly realized I'm not good enough."

Damien stared at me.  He looked confused.  He didn't say anything for a long time, and I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my forehead on my knees, because I couldn't even look at him anymore.  

Finally, he spoke.  "Kinsley," he said softly.  He waited until I raised my head and reluctantly made eye contact with him.  "I am not in the business of loving people that I consider 'not good enough', in your words.  I could sit here and tell you all the reasons I think you're a great match for me, all the reasons I love you, and why I sometimes feel like I'm not good enough for you.  But I'm not going to, because it doesn't matter.  I could tell you all those things, but they shouldn't have any bearing on how you feel about yourself.  You should think you're good enough regardless of what I think.

"And you're right.  I did leave, and it was one of the stupidest things I've ever done, but there's nothing I can do about that now except to tell you that I was wrong and I'm sorry and I love you."  With that, he stopped talking.

Now it was my turn to silently stare.  I don't know what I had been expecting, but it wasn't this.  I expected to be angry that he wasn't validating me and telling me all the reasons I'm good enough, but I wasn't.  He's right, it means little coming from him if I don't believe it.  And it's not his job to make me feel good about myself.

"Well..." I said finally.  "Now what?"

"That's up to you," Damien said gently.  "If you need some time to figure out what you want to do, you can have it.  I want to be with you, but I don't want you to feel stuck in a relationship where you don't ever feel good enough."

I considered this.  I know I wanted to stay with Damien, but I also didn't want to be stuck in a relationship where I didn't feel good enough.  I knew it was my issue and not his.  "I don't want to break up," I told him honestly, "but if you can give me some time to work a few things out in my head so I can be fully in this relationship without trying to sabotage it or feeling shitty about myself, that would be for the best."

"Okay," he said.  "I can do that."  He shifted as if he was going to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping him.  "I know that I have to figure my shit out, but will you tell me what you want?"

He smiled.  "I want to marry you someday.  When we're both ready.  I want to be your husband and your partner.  I want to raise a family with you.  And I want you to be happy with whatever you decide, and I don't want either of us to have any regrets or question it."

I expected to feel panic at the thought of getting married and starting a family, but I didn't.  I felt a smile playing at the corners of my lips and realized I loved the idea.  I smiled at Damien.  "Thanks for sharing that," I said.  It sounded silly, but I knew he was being vulnerable by telling me that right now, and I appreciated it.

We both stood and I walked him to the door.  At the door we hugged, staying with our arms wrapped around each other for a long time.  "Look," I said, once we separated.  "Don't freak out if I fall off the radar completely for a little while, okay?  I promise I'll reach out when I get my shit together.  It won't be more than two weeks."

"I can live with that," Damien responded.  "It helps to have a time frame."

We stood awkward for several seconds, until he put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me.  The kiss was soft and gentle but I could feel the emotion behind it.  I gripped his forearms, holding his hands in place against my face as I kissed him back.  Finally, we pulled apart and he looked down as he put his hand on the doorknob.  "I'll see you in a couple weeks?" he asked.

"Yes," I said firmly.  "You will."

He nodded and left, and for a second I felt panicked and alone.  I reached for my phone, and in that second I realized that I needed to be okay with being alone before I could be okay truly being with someone else.

The last time I'd been alone had been after Kaleb went to jail and I was stuck at home with a drug-addicted mother and an absent, philandering father.  All "alone" meant to me was fear, uncertainty, and knowing that I wasn't anyone's priority.  After high school graduation and before Damien, I filled my time with friends and flings and strangers to avoid those same feelings.  Lauren was right.  She truly enjoyed having sex with whoever she wanted, and she did it for fun.  I had sex with whoever I wanted to prove a point, manage my emotions, and validate myself.

Once I realized this, I did the most logical thing that I could think of.  I sent my boss an email, begging for some time off of work.  It was tax season, and usually we avoided taking time off at this time of year.  Luckily, it was still early enough that after promising my boss the next day that I'd do some work while I was away, he granted me three days off: Friday, Monday, and Tuesday.  After work, I did what anyone in my situation would do, and I booked myself a room at a tiny, adults only all-inclusive resort in Mexico--far away from the party spots, of course.  Because it was so last minute and all the bigger resorts were booked, I paid a ridiculous amount for the room and the flight, but I was hoping it would be worth it.

Taking myself on a sweet vacation seemed like a good way to either self-destruct or remember the things I actually liked about myself.  At the moment, it seemed like it would be a toss up, but either way it would make my decision easy.

By the time I got to the resort on Friday, I was so wound up with nervous energy.  I was pretty sure I was going to regret taking a 4 day trip to Mexico by myself.  During tax season, no less.  But I had to do something different, and this certainly qualified.

By lunchtime on Saturday, I was a mess.  I decided my plan was backfiring.  I hadn't even left my room yet.  I couldn't bear to go out to the pool or the beach when both were full of happy couples that were enjoying their vacations.  I glared out the window at the pool angrily, then pulled my laptop out.  I grabbed a beer from the fridge in the room, cracked it open, and drank it as I got my computer connected to the painfully slow wireless.

I managed 3 hours of work before I got frustrated with the slow internet service.  I wandered back to the window.  The pool area wasn't quite as busy as it was before.  I was dying to get out in the sun, so I pulled one of my swimsuits out of my suitcase, grabbed one of the magazines I'd brought along, and managed to leave my room.  I threw a sidelong glance at my phone on the way out.  I wanted to take it with me to listen to music, but I knew if I turned it on I'd end up on social media or texting Lauren or Liv, and I needed to just detach.

It took over an hour at the pool to realize that no one was paying any attention to me.  No one was wondering why I was alone, judging me, or caring at all about whether or not I was there, taking up space.  It was a relief, and I relaxed a little bit.  Another hour was all I could take, though, and I headed back to my room.

Dinner was a whole different story.  I forced myself out of my room, but when the host at the restaurant I chose asked if it was just me, I almost turned around and left.  But I stayed, and while it wasn't the most comfortable meal I've ever eaten, at least I survived.

Over the next couple days, I relaxed even more.  By the time I had to pack up to catch my shuttle to the airport to go home, I was definitely ready to leave, but I was no longer miserable.  In fact, as I was handing off my suitcase to the shuttle driver, I thought to myself that I might enjoy taking another solo vacation again someday.

...someday.

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I do apologize for the cliffhanger (actually, that's mostly a lie), but I promise all will be wrapped up in the final post!  

Kinsley: Good Enough

Once I started talking, I couldn't stop.  Lauren, who had started off leaning against the kitchen doorframe, sat down heavily in the armchair in the corner after a couple minutes.  She listened silently as I verbally vomited the events of the last few weeks at her.

When I was done, Lauren pursed her lips and just looked at me for several seconds.  I looked away and pulled my knees up to my chest, bracing myself for the verbal smackdown I was sure I was about to receive.  Finally, she surprised me by saying, "When are you going to stop feeling like you're not good enough for him?"

My head snapped up and I stared at her.  She met my gaze and stared back.  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Kinsley, come on," Lauren said.  "Look, I don't know enough about pre-college Kinsley to know if something has happened that's made you have this weird inferiority complex that I think you have.  But I know self-sabotage when I see it, and you are guilty."

I narrowed my eyes.  "You think I'm trying to fuck up my relationship?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head.  "I don't think you're trying to fuck up your relationship.  I don't think you're aware of it.  But I think that on some level, you feel guilty about something, or like Damien is better than you and you don't deserve him.  In turn, you're doing stupid shit to confirm that belief and force him to break up with you, which will further confirm it."

I looked at her skeptically.  "I didn't realize you were fucking Freud," I muttered.

"Listen to me," Lauren persisted.  "What did you do when you guys broke up?  You went out and made a bunch of questionable decisions.  You might argue that you'd have done all those things before you started dating Damien, and maybe you would have.  But you wouldn't have done them all in as short of a time period."

"I fail to see how that has anything to do with me feeling like I'm not good enough for Damien," I said, crossing my arms.

Lauren thought for a minute.  "Okay.  You deal with your feelings by drinking, exercising, and having sex.  Especially with sex.  Do you at least agree with that?"

"Yes," I agreed grudgingly.

She nodded encouragingly.  I still did not see her point.  Luckily for me (eyeroll) she continued.  "You use sex to feel loved, to feel validated, to feel happy, to deal with being pissed off or hurt."  I glared at her, not appreciating the first two things.  "When you and Damien broke up, you went out and had a bunch of sex to deal with being hurt and angry, and to feel validated.  It was like you needed to prove to yourself that you were good enough.  That men wanted you."

"Yeah, but not really, because I was still miserable."

"That's exactly my point!" Lauren crowed.  I rolled my eyes.  "You were still miserable because men wanted you, but they didn't love you."

"You know what, I'm really sorry that I called you," I muttered.  "You're not making any fucking sense and you're starting to piss me off."

"You should have called Liv, she could have explained this a lot better and been a lot nicer about it," Lauren said.

"Oh, have you been talking about me?" I snapped.

Lauren nodded.  "Yes.  I mean, not as an ongoing thing, but we were both worried about you the night you left the bar with Cole.  So we did talk about you."

I stood up and glared at Lauren.  "You are an asshole," I told her.  "If you were so fucking worried, why didn't you say anything to me?"

Lauren's cheeks flushed a little and she glanced down.  "You're right, and I'm sorry," she said, looking back up at me.  "We should have.  We wanted to, but I was worried that if we tried, you'd get angry and push us away.  Then we wouldn't be around if something like this happened.  We thought it would be better for you if we didn't say anything at the time."

"Whatever, Lauren," I muttered, shaking my head.  I walked to the door.  "I'm going home."

"How?"

"I only live a half mile away, remember?  I'll walk."  Of course she doesn't remember, she's been MIA lately.

My hand was on the doorknob when the doorbell rang, making me jump.  "Pizza is here," Lauren said softly. I backed away from the door and let her answer it.  Lauren answered the door, paid the delivery driver, and shut the door.  "Look, if you want to go home, I'll take you.  If you want to eat, I'll shut up.  I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry that I did.  I'm sorry that Liv and I were talking about you and didn't just tell you we were worried.  If you want to talk, I'll listen and I'll keep my mouth shut."

I glanced at the door and then back at Lauren.  I was still a little wobbly from my 4 martinis, and the pizza did smell really good.  My stomach grumbled softly and I decided to stay.  "I'll eat," I said finally.  "And I'll also take you up on that offer to shut up."

"Okay," she said, grinning.  "I'll get some plates."

We sat and ate in silence.  I didn't care for the quiet, so I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.  I flipped through the channels until I found some Friends re-runs and left it there.  After about 20 minutes of neither of us talking, I looked at Lauren.  "Inferiority complex?" I asked.  "Really?"

"Okay, that was a really poor choice of words," she said.  "Sorry."

I was quiet again for a few more minutes.  Then, still staring at the TV, I started talking.  "His family is amazing, and mine is a disaster.  I don't talk to either of my parents.  The last time I saw my mom she threw something at my head and called me a whore.  The last time I saw my dad he physically assaulted me and basically disowned me.  My brother spent half my childhood in jail and just resurfaced a couple months ago.  Damien's mom loves me and his sister is married and has two great kids.  Even his stepdad is really nice to me.

"Damien has his shit together and can stay calm in a crisis or an argument.  When he's pissed at me, he tells me calmly.  When I'm pissed at him, he listens while I yell at him and act like a fool.  Meanwhile, I've fucked half of Colorado's male population and lose my shit if someone looks at me wrong.  When I'm mad I yell and say hurtful things and run away like a child.  Aside from having a good job and a retirement account and some investments and a decent amount of money in savings, I'm not very good at being a grownup."

Lauren listened silently, as promised.  "So," I finished, "I don't even think that it's just that I think I'm not good enough for him.  I'm just not.  I'm a disaster."

"Why do you think Damien is with you?" Lauren asked softly.

"I...don't know," I replied, biting my lip.  "I don't even know."

"He seems like a pretty reasonable guy," she pointed out.  I nodded.  "He seems like he knows what he wants."

"Yeah," I agreed.  "He's got his shit together."

"So why would someone with his shit together be in a relationship with 'a disaster'?"

"I don't know," I said again.

"Think about it," she prodded gently.  "Why is Alex with me?"

"Because he's loved you forever," I said, rolling my eyes.

"But why does he love me?"

I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck.  "Because you guys just...work.  You get each other's sense of humor.  You have things in common.  He probably enjoys having sex with you."

Lauren laughed.  "I hope so," she said.  I smiled a little.  "Do you think he'd be with me if he thought I wasn't good enough for him?"

"I see what you're doing," I muttered.  "Of course he wouldn't."

"Does Damien act like you're not good enough for him?  Does he treat you like you're less than him?  Not let you make decisions?  Is he disrespectful to you?"

"Of course not," I replied.  "I wouldn't be with him if he did.  He treats me better than anyone else ever has."

"Then you're getting in your own way, because you're the only one that doesn't see you two as equals," she said bluntly.  "And my guess is him treating you so well is part of the 'problem' because you don't think you deserve it."

I didn't say anything for a long time.  I toyed with a piece of pizza crust laying on my plate.  "So what do I do about it?" I asked finally.

"Talk to him," Lauren answered immediately.  "Tell him all of this.  And Liv would suggest therapy, I'm sure."  I snorted.  Tonight was the first that Lauren was hearing about any of my shit, why would I tell a stranger?    "Talk to him, at least," Lauren said.  "I love you two together, and I want you to be happy."

I looked around for a clock, then realized Lauren didn't have one.  Another check in my grownup column.  I may stomp my feet and slam doors when I'm pissed, but at least I have a clock in my living room.  I pulled out my phone.  It was not quite 8pm.  "Call him," Lauren urged me gently.  "If you want to see him tonight, I can take you."

I glanced at her, then back at my phone.  She stood and took both our plates into the kitchen, then I heard the water running.  With a shaking finger, I pulled up my recent calls and tapped Damien's name.  He answered halfway through the second ring.  "Kinsley."  The way he said my name in greeting made me feel sad for some reason.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"Hi," he replied.  "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I answered.  "I think so, anyway." I paused, but he didn't say anything.  "Damien, I'm sorry for the way I acted this morning.  Can we talk?  I want to see you."

"Yes," he said immediately.  "Should I go there, or do you want to come here?"

"I'm at Lauren's, actually.  I, um, don't have my car.  She said she could drive me over there if you want."

"I can come get you," he responded.  "Give me 15 minutes, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

Lauren appeared in the doorway shortly after we hung up.  "Do you need a ride over there?" she asked.

"No, he's coming to get me," I said.  "Thank you for everything tonight."

"You're welcome.  And I really am sorry I started off kind of poorly."

"It's fine," I said.  "I wouldn't have heard you any other way."

Damien arrived 15 minutes later, just like he said.  I hugged Lauren impulsively--rare for us.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd hugged her.  "Good luck!" she told me.

"Thanks," I replied.  "I might need it."  Then I opened the door and left the safety of Lauren's house and headed towards Damien's truck at the curb.

Kinsley: Tough Love

Happy Saturday, all!  Come back tomorrow for a special Valentine's Day treat: an excerpt from the first post of my new story, "In All the Wrong Places."  The blog launches with the first post on March 1st, but of course I'm going to torture you all with a sneak peek!  

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I woke up early the next morning.  Really early.  Uncomfortable under Damien's arm, I carefully extricated myself, leaving Damien sprawled across his half of the bed and part of mine.  It was just a little after 5, almost an hour before Damien would get up.

I quietly got dressed, pulling on a tank top and a pair of pajama pants that were laying on the floor next to the bed.  Once downstairs, I made some coffee before I grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch.  I flipped the TV on and turned the volume down enough that I was certain it wouldn't wake Damien.

My eyes glazed over as I mindlessly watched some stupid early morning show for about 40 minutes.  The perky blonde hosts were chirping cheerfully away about some new fad diet when I uncurled myself from the nest I'd created on the couch and walked into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

I'd just started scrambling some eggs when I heard footsteps on the stairs.  Seconds later, Damien appeared in the kitchen.  "You're up early," he said softly, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I woke up around 5," I told him.  I considered telling him I wasn't tired anymore or couldn't sleep, then decided not to lie and just ended my statement as it was.

He dropped a light, tender kiss where my neck meets my shoulder and tightened his arms around me.  "I got a little worried when I woke up and you weren't there," he said.

I abruptly set down the fork I was using to aggressively over-beat the eggs and turned to face him.  "You were?"

"I still am," he admitted.  I looked at him curiously, and he took a step back and sighed.  "Kinsley, I can't tell where your head is, and I don't think you know either.  You do impulsive things when you're not thinking clearly."

I bristled and clenched my teeth.  "You said you trusted me," I spat, suddenly furious.

Damien tried to move closer to me and I dodged him, stepping to the side.  "I do," he said calmly.  "But I don't think you trust yourself, and that worries me."

"You don't know anything," I hissed.  I didn't know why I was so angry all of a sudden, but I was and it was overwhelming.  "Don't tell me how I feel!"

"Kinsley," he started, but I didn't let him finish whatever he was going to say.

"No," I interrupted.  "Don't.  Just...go.  Please."

Damien's level gaze wavered, and he looked confused.  "Go?" he repeated. "Kinsley..." His calm was crumbling and I could tell he thought I meant something that I didn't mean.

"Not forever," I amended, trying to think clearly.  "Just...I can't have this conversation right now.  It's not even 6 am."

I could tell he wanted to argue.  I could tell he wanted to protest, to demand to stay, to talk about this rightnow.  But instead, after several long, agonizing seconds, he set his jaw and nodded.  "Okay," he agreed.  "I'll go."  He tentatively moved towards me again, and I didn't move.  He touched my elbow and kissed me softly on the cheek.  "You tell me when you're ready, then."

I nodded, unable to meet his eyes.  Unsatisfied, he tipped my chin up with a gentle touch.  I locked eyes with him and said, "I will."  Damien took a deep breath, nodded again, and left the kitchen.  I listened to his footsteps go up the stairs.  Not even a minute later, the footsteps came back down, and then the front door opened and closed.

I turned briefly back to the eggs that were now thoroughly beaten on the counter.  I looked at them sitting in the bowl, yellow and slimy.  Disgusted, I dumped them down the drain and shoved the bowl angrily into the dishwasher.  Then I stomped upstairs to get ready.

Over my lunch break, I called Lauren.  I needed a reality check.  She answered.  "Can we do dinner tonight?" I asked, not even returning her greeting.

"Sure," she replied, sounding confused by my tone.  "Do you want me to invite Liv or Kendra?"

"No."  I needed brutal honesty, not coddling.

Lauren didn't say anything for a moment, then asked, "Is everything okay?"

"We'll talk tonight.  I need to get back to work."  Lauren accepted that and we hung up.

I got to the restaurant early and sat at the bar to get a drink.  I hadn't eaten breakfast and I'd just eaten a random granola bar I found in my desk for "lunch."  When things got chaotic, I lost my appetite.

I ordered a gin martini and sipped it a lot slower than I wanted to.  I was awfully early though, and sipping slowly didn't stop me from drinking too much.  I was just finishing my third when someone sat down next to me and said, "Bad day?"

I blinked placidly at him, then smirked.  "Something like that," I replied.  I glanced at his empty scotch glass, cocked an eyebrow and asked, "What's your excuse?"

"Good day," he replied with a devilish grin.  He was handsome in a cheap department store catalogue sort of way.  "Promotion and a hefty raise."

I was bored already, but humored him.  "Congratulations," I said.  I turned and thanked the bartender, a tiny waif of a girl who could barely reach past the call liquors, as she deposited my fourth martini in front of me.

"My name is--"

"I actually don't give a fuck," I interrupted.  I stared straight ahead, taking a good sized drink.

After a moment of what I can only imagine was stunned silence, Mr. JCPenney snorted.  "Then I guess I don't care about yours either," he replied.  I thought he'd leave, but he leaned closer to me.  Apparently bitches turned him on.  "So, how about you finish that drink, and--"

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?"  I turned my head and saw Lauren standing behind me, her disgust apparent.  "Did you pay cash or do you have a tab?" she demanded, gesturing at my drink.

"Cash," I informed her.  I almost laughed at the bewildered look on Promotion-and-Hefty-Raise's face.

"Then take that and get over here, because I got us a table and you're being an idiot."

"I actually just told this man that I don't give a fuck about him," I responded calmly, shrugging as I stood.  "Apparently he likes that sort of thing."  I looked seriously at Lauren and said in an exaggerated whisper, "Mommy must not have loved him enough."

"I am so sorry," Lauren apologized to the asshole next to me, who now looked angry.  She grabbed my forearm and pulled me away from the bar.  "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" she snapped, after practically shoving me into a booth on the opposite side of the restaurant.

"Didn't eat enough and drank too much, I imagine," I replied.  I was starting to become amused by her clear irritation.

"And I suppose you drove here, as well," she said with disdain.  I nodded.  "Well knock it off before I take you home."

"Sorry, Mom," I replied.  "Oh wait, my mommy didn't love me enough either, and she wouldn't give a shit if I got home safely."

Lauren gaped at me.  Our server showed up at that second but paused, looking between Lauren and me.  "I'm really sorry," Lauren said.  "Something came up and we need to leave."

"Oh, of course," the server replied, looking confused.  "I hope everything is okay."

"I do too," I said to her, nodding seriously.

Lauren stood abruptly and stared pointedly at me.  "Let's go," she hissed when I didn't immediately stand.  I followed her dutifully, becoming aware of the fact that I was not fit to be seen in public right now.  As soon as we were outside, Lauren almost exploded.  "You are a mess," she chastised me.  I didn't answer.

She pulled out her phone and dialed someone while we walked in what I assumed was the direction of her car.  "Yeah, can you order a pizza for delivery to my house?" she asked someone.  She paused, listening.  "Thank you.  I might not be back tonight."  Another pause, with a glance at me.  "I'm not sure, but I hope to find out....okay, love you too."  She hung up and looked at me, making sure I was still walking along next to her.

She said nothing more until we were in her car.  Then she turned to me and said, "You and Damien broke up again."  It was a statement, not a question, and said it kindly.  Well, for Lauren anyway.

"No," I replied.  "Not yet."

"Not yet?" she asked.  I didn't say anything.  "Kinsley, does this have something to do with Cole?"

When she said that, I crumpled against the door.  I stayed silent.  She sighed softly and started the car.  She drove straight to her house and we went inside.  "Do you want something to eat while we wait for pizza?" she asked me.  I shook my head.  She went into the kitchen and came back with a large glass of water, which she handed to me wordlessly.  I took several long drinks while she stood and watched me.

Finally, I set the glass aside and looked up.  I tucked my hands between my knees to make them stop shaking, and then I finally spilled the entire story to Lauren.

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Don't forget to come back tomorrow for your sneak peek of "In All the Wrong Places"!

Kinsley: Blame

Hi guys, thank you so much for your kind words and patience waiting for this post!  This week ended up being a total shitshow and it was ridiculous.  I've got a Lauren post in the works that I hope to have up tomorrow or Monday.  
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I kept myself busy for the rest of Sunday.  I went to the gym, I ran some errands, I cleaned my house.  By the end of the day I felt better and was able to relax and then sleep like a normal person.

My workday was so slow on Monday.  I wasn't busy and it felt like it dragged on and on.  Finally it was time to leave.  I actually left about 20 minutes early because I wanted to have enough time to go home and spend some extra time getting ready for dinner with Damien.

When I got home, I took a quick shower, being careful not to get my hair wet while I shaved.  I dried off, slathered lotion all over my body, and quickly pulled one of my favorite casual dresses on.  I touched up my makeup, darkening my eye liner slightly and adding an extra coat of mascara, reapplying my blush, and finding the perfect lip gloss.  Then I ran my flat iron over a couple pieces of hair that had done something weird over the course of the day.  I admired my reflection in the mirror, pleased.  I really did love my new haircut.

I was a little nervous, just because I hadn't talked to Damien since I left his house yesterday morning and I wasn't sure if dinner would be awkward or how he'd be.  It turned out that I didn't need to worry.  He rang my doorbell just as I was finishing applying lip gloss, and I ran down the stairs to let him in.  "Hi," I said, slightly self-consciously.

"Hi, Kinsley," he replied warmly.  Then he looked me up and down and grinned.  "Are you actually ready?"

I laughed.  "I am, for once!" I told him.  "But only because I left work early."  Damien started laughing, and I was so relieved that everything felt normal.

"Come here," he said, once he had collected himself.  I finished sliding my feet into my shoes and stepped over to him, looping my arms around his neck.  He kissed me softly and then pulled me into a tight hug.  "Should we go?" he asked my hair.

"Yes, I'm starving," I replied, pulling away finally.  He kept one arm around my back and briefly rested his hand against my face, stroking my jaw and my neck before smiling and letting both hands drop so I could step away and grab my coat.  He held it while I slid my arms into it, then we left the house.

We ordered a bottle of wine and a couple appetizers to share.  Things felt so close to normal I could almost ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head that wanted to keep telling me over and over that I fucked up.  We talked about our days and I told Damien a story about an idiot at the gym the day before.

We didn't linger long after we finished before we headed back to my house.  In the car, Damien's fingers trailed under my skirt and up my leg before stopping and resting his hand on my upper thigh, his fingers lightly tapping against my leg.  I sighed softly and moved my legs apart a little more.  His hand immediately slid higher, stopping just short of where I was hoping it'd go.  "Trying to torture me?" I asked him.

"I would never do something like that," he replied without taking his eyes off the road.  But he smirked as he moved his fingers, stroking my inner thigh lightly.  I sunk lower in my seat, trying to press my hips towards his hand, but it remained planting firmly where it was on my thigh.

After a 15 minute drive that felt like forever, we finally made it back to my house.  Damien barely let me get my high-heeled ankle boots off before he pulled me close and kissed me.  I pushed one hand into his hair and gripped his shirt with the other, relieved at how normal it felt.  He pulled his lips away from mine and kissed along my jaw to my neck.  I leaned back against the door and groaned when his hand slipped up my skirt, sliding along my tights up my inner thigh.  He teased me with his fingers through my tights and underwear until I wiggled away to get them off of me and out of his way.

Once I had the clothing barrier gone, I grabbed his arms and kissed him again.  Damien again moved his lips to my neck, this time the other side.  "Do you want me to fuck you, or do you want it nice and slow?" he asked.  The combination of the words (which were always unexpected from him) and his breath on my ear made me shiver in anticipation.

He was watching me, and I looked up at him and softly said, "Both."

At that, Damien grinned.  "You've got it," he said.

He pulled my dress over my head and spun me around, planting his left hand between my shoulder blades and pushing me up against the door face first.  I squirmed impatiently as he undid his pants with one hand.  Finally I heard his pants hit the floor, then he slid his fingers between my legs and got me worked into a frenzy.  When he finally slid his right arm under my right leg and pulled it up, bracing his hand against the door, and slammed into me, I felt like I had been on the edge of an orgasm for hours.  The hand between my shoulder blades lifted now that he could press my body against the door with his own.  Since I couldn't see anything he was doing with that hand, it took me by surprise when he grabbed a handful of my hair and used it to turn my head so he could kiss me.  I kissed him desperately, moaning against his lips.  He kept a tight grip on my hair, then pulled my leg up a little higher.  His hand was high enough now to free my breast from my bra, and he pulled and twisted my nipple as he thrust into me hard enough to shake the door.  I cried out as I came, and if it wasn't for his body against mine and his arm hooked under my leg, I would have been on the floor.

He stayed pressed tightly against me, grinding his hips against mine instead of thrusting until I resumed normal functioning.  He pulled out of me, still hard, kicked off his shoes and pants, and pried my sweaty, trembling body away from the door.  Then he lifted me and carried me upstairs into my room, where he made good on the second half of his offer.  I came twice more before he finally finished, and I slumped into a breathless heap against him when he rolled off of me.  "Jesus," I muttered.

"Yeah," he agreed.

We laid there silently for a really long time.  Damien was absently stroking my shoulder with his thumb when I suddenly blurted out, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" he asked, yawning.

I wriggled out of his arms and pushed myself up on one elbow so I could look at him.  He opened his eyes and watched me, waiting for me to clarify.  "Just forget about everything and move on?"

He considered this thoughtfully.  "Well, I don't know.  I guess I just did.  Maybe because it was just a kiss that you didn't want and ended?  It's not like you had sex with him."

I frowned.  "You don't think it was my fault," I said.

"You're right," he agreed easily.  "And you do think it was your fault.  Because you should have 'known better' than to let a guy that wants to have sex with you walk you to your car."

"Basically."

He shrugged.  "If you hadn't, it probably wouldn't have happened.  You're right about that.  But he's the one in the wrong, because you shouldn't just go around kissing people that are in relationships and have made it perfectly clear they're not interested."

Had I made it perfectly clear?  I'd made it perfectly clear I was in a relationship...did that count?

"Stop blaming yourself," Damien said.  "I honestly think you're more upset by this than I am.  I'm not really sure what that's about, but as far as I'm concerned, we're okay."

I slid back down until I was laying next to him again, rolling onto my other side.  Damien immediately rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around me, pulling my back against his chest.  I sagged against him, trying to relax.  I wondered how long I'd feel guilty and awful about this.  Damien was right, I absolutely did blame myself and think it was my fault.  Wasn't it?  It felt weird that he was so unfazed by it.  It didn't feel real.  I felt like I was waiting for him to decide he really was pissed and leave in a blaze of glory.

As soon as that thought popped into my head, I immediately felt bad.  I trusted Damien.  He'd never lied to me, he'd never done anything to make me think that he wouldn't be honest about the way he felt.  If he said he moved on, he moved on.  I relaxed a little, realizing this.  I still had the nagging self-blame in the back of my mind, but I was able to push it away long enough to drift off to sleep, still nestled against Damien.

Kinsley: Trust

I woke up a couple hours later and felt the weight of Damien's arm across me still.  My shoulder was sore from laying on it but I didn't want to disturb him, so I very slowly and carefully shifted onto my stomach.  Damien didn't move.  His arm was still draped over me--now it was on my back.  I got comfortable again and fell back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, the room was bright.  Damien only had blinds on the windows in here, no curtains.  I groaned and rolled over, then realized that Damien was gone.  Anxiety welled up and I wondered why he'd left.  Had I imagined him coming in?  No, I'd woken up once and he was still there.  Did he wake up and decide he didn't want anything to do with me?

There was only one way to find out.  I pushed back the blankets and blinked a few times.  My eyes felt raw and swollen.  A quick trip to the bathroom confirmed that they were red and puffy.  I looked terrible.  I splashed some cold water on my face but it didn't help.

I pulled on Damien's sweatpants, cinching the drawstring as tightly as I could.  They still hung low on my hips and were comically long. I completed the amusing picture with Damien's hooded sweatshirt, which I had to fish out of blankets.  Sometime during the night it had migrated out of my arms and down towards the end of the bed.

I made my way downstairs and found Damien in the kitchen, making breakfast.  "Coffee?" he asked me.  I nodded.

He poured me a cup and I thanked him when he handed it to me.  "Do you want help?" I offered tentatively.

He shook his head and said, "No, sit down.  Is it okay if I talk while I cook?"

"Sure," I replied, pulling a chair away from the table.  I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug and stared at the dark liquid inside it.

"First," he started, "I want you to know that I trust you completely and I believe what you told me last night."

"You do?" I asked, surprised.  I don't know what I was expecting him to say, but that wasn't it.

"I do," he replied.  He turned and looked at me.  "Should I not?"

"No," I said quickly.  "You should.  I just...wasn't expecting this conversation to start that way."

"I should have told you last night, but I was so thrown off by your reaction to the situation that I didn't know what to think," he admitted.  "You were so uncharacteristically upset that I didn't know what to make of it.  It seemed like an out of proportion reaction to some guy kissing you and you stopping it.  It was really confusing."

I considered this.  "Well," I said, rocking my coffee mug around on its bottom edge, "I think part of it is that something like that has never happened to me before.  I mean, hell, I've never even been in a relationship this serious before, so I've never even had the opportunity to cheat or be cheated on.  But it's one of those things that everyone else has such strong feelings about that I think I just panicked."

I paused, and decided if I was going to be honest and vulnerable, I might as well really do it.  "And you're not going to like this, and I'm sorry, but seeing him after so long was really confusing.  Our...breakup, I guess, destroyed me.  And he was there to help me deal with my feelings the best way I know how, which is sex.  So suddenly seeing him again stirred up some sort of feelings that were weird and confusing and uncomfortable and really threw me off."

Damien had been looking at me, and I caught his grimace as he turned quickly back towards the stove.  "I'm sorry," I apologized, for what felt like the thousandth time, but it also didn't feel like it was nearly enough.  Now that I was talking, I couldn't seem to stop myself.  The words just tumbled out. "I didn't ever want to be in a relationship with him.  You're the only person I want to be with.  Fuck, you're pretty much the only person I've ever wanted to be with in my entire life. And we'd just sort of talked about the future and... And it was scary to me how quickly and easily it all happened.  I never should have let him walk me to my car.  That was stupid."

"I don't agree," Damien said emphatically, turning to look at me.

"With which part?" I asked, confused.

"That it was stupid for you to let him walk you to your car.  A man should be able to walk you to your car without losing his sensibilities and making a move on a woman that he knows is in a relationship.  You didn't 'owe' him that kiss for his presence.  He's the one that fucked up, Kinsley."

"I kissed him back," I pointed out, then instantly wanted to kick myself.  I really could not seem to shut the fuck up to save my relationship here.

"Yeah," Damien said wryly.  "You told me.  And I kind of wish you hadn't.  But you stopped it and were honest--really honest--and that's important to me."

"This is weird," I blurted.  "You should be mad."

"You know that's not really my thing," he replied.  "Look, I'd be lying if I said this didn't suck.  It sucks and it's confusing and it hurts a little too.  I'm not happy about it.  But I trust you and I appreciate you telling me what happened.  I really appreciate this entire conversation, I know it's probably been really hard for you."

I looked at him, not sure what to say.  He turned back to the stove and finished what he was doing, then got out plates and put pancakes and sausage on them.  He brought both plates over the table.  "One of the things I fucked up in my last relationship was holding on to things that upset me for too long.  There's nothing I can do about what happened last night.  I can either overreact and break up with you again and regret it again, or I can trust you and move on.  So I'm choosing to trust you and move on."

"Okay," I said, still baffled by how this conversation was going.  "Well...okay."

We ate our breakfast mostly quietly.  It was awkward and weird and even though he had said he trusted me and was moving on, the tension in the room was heavy and kept me on the verge of tears.  Damien let me wash the dishes after we finished, then said, "I know we were going to run today and spend the day together, but I think I need to be by myself today."

Anxiety gripped me and I looked up at him, worried.  "But I thought you said..." I trailed off and pushed my hand into my hair, tugging on it nervously.

"Nothing has changed," he assured me.  "I love you.  I'm not mad.  But I just need some space today.  I'd like to take you out to dinner tomorrow, if you'd like to go."

I stood there quietly.  The logical and rational part of me (it exists, I swear) knew that this was reasonable.  Hell, if the whole day was as tense as breakfast was, I didn't even want to be here.  But the emotional part was terrified that he'd spend the day by himself and decide that maybe he didn't trust me as much as he thought he did.  It was also really hard to have been as vulnerable as I was and then get kicked out.  Finally, I nodded.  "Yeah, I'd like that.  I'm just going to change quick, if that's okay."

"Of course it is," he said.  "Take your time and do whatever you need to do.  If you want to shower before you go that's fine too."

I shook my head and hurried upstairs to change.  I pulled on yesterday's clothes, made the bed, and left Damien's stuff folded carefully on the end of the bed.  It would have felt weird to go into his room to leave them there.

When I came downstairs, Damien stood and met me by the door.  He pulled me into a fierce, tight hug and my anxiety decreased slightly.  "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I replied, pressing my face hard against his shoulder.  We stood there for a really long time.

Finally, he loosened his grip on me and we separated.  He touched my hair and said, "I really like your haircut, by the way."

"Thanks," I said, feeling almost shy.  "I do too, but it still feels weird."  I ran my fingers through it and smiled awkwardly at him.

"It doesn't look weird," he said, grinning genuinely.  My face relaxed into a more normal smile.  He stepped closer to me, took my face gently in both hands, and kissed me.  I reached up and gripped his wrists tightly as I kissed him back.  I wanted desperately to try to escalate our kiss, to try to fix the tension the best way I knew how, but I knew it wasn't a good idea.  So after several seconds, I pulled back, ending the kiss before I lost my self control.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Damien asked, studying my face.

"Yes," I agreed.  "I'll see you tomorrow."

Kinsley: He Kissed Me

This is the last Kinsley post for the week.  Come back at the end of the week for the next Lauren post!
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At first, the situation didn't even register, and I let myself kiss him back briefly before I realized what was happening.  It felt good, and I leaned into him, letting my hands travel up his arms and across his chest.  As I was touching him, it occurred to me that I wasn't touching Damien, and I yanked my hands back then shoved him away from me, ending the kiss abruptly.  "What the fuck?" I hissed.  "Get the fuck away from me."

"Kinsley," Cole said, and he didn't look terribly sorry.  "Come on, you know you wanted that as much as I did."

"I have a boyfriend, you motherfucker!" I spat at him.  "And you fucking know that!"

"I won't tell him if you won't," he replied, lazily leaning against my car and cocking his head, watching me.

"Get. The fuck. Away. From me!" I snapped loudly, attracting the attention of a couple walking past.  They watched us warily as they continued on.  "You are such a fucking piece of shit," I half-whispered furiously to Cole.  "Now move because I need to leave right now."

He moved away from my car and watched helplessly as I yanked the door open, got in, and slammed it closed so hard the whole car rocked slightly.  "Fuck!" I yelped, once I was inside.  I started the car, glanced quickly around to make sure no one was in my way, and gunned it onto the road.  "Fuck fuck fuck what the fuck!"

Without thinking, I drove straight to Damien's house.  I got out--almost forgetting to turn off my car--and pounded on the door.  When he didn't answer, I rang the doorbell.  I waited about 3 seconds, then rang it again.  "Goddamn it," I muttered angrily.  Just as I was getting ready to get back in my car, I saw a light go on.  I knocked on the door again and waited.

The porch light turned on suddenly, then I heard the lock.  The tears started the second Damien pulled open the door and blinked sleepily at me.  "Kinsley?" he asked, looking confused.  The confusion turned to concern when he saw I was crying.  "Kinsley, what's wrong?"

"He kissed me," I choked out.  "He kissed me."  I repeated it one more time for good measure, then added a miserable, "I'm so sorry."

Damien blinked and rubbed his hand over his face, then stepped back and pulled the door open.  "I think you should come in," he said placidly.

I nodded and stepped inside, dragging my pathetic ass over to his couch and collapsing in a heap.  "I'm so sorry," I sobbed, pulling my knees up to my chest.

Damien tried to put an arm around me but I flinched and pulled away.  "Kinsley, please try to calm down," he said patiently.  That just made me cry harder.  He leaned back against the back of the couch and yawned, waiting for me to calm down enough to tell him what was going on.

I finally managed to get it together a little bit.  I wiped furiously at my face and almost lost it again when Damien handed me a Kleenex.  I tried to take care of the situation that I was sure was happening under my eyes, but gave up.  "He kissed me," I said for about the fifth time.  "And I kissed him back.  I didn't mean to.  It was awful.  I'm so sorry."

Now I had his attention.  "Who kissed you?" he asked warily.

"Cole," I moaned miserably.  "That motherfucker.  I'm sorry.  Damien, I'm sorry."

"Would you please just tell me what the hell is going on?" he snapped.  His face was unreadable and he didn't raise his voice, but I could tell by how fast he was talking that he was agitated.  "Who is Cole?"

I took a deep, shaky breath and began my explanation.  I reminded him who Cole was, and his jaw twitched.  I told him about running into him on Monday with Liv and Lauren, and him following me to my car.  I told him that we'd run into him again tonight, and he'd walked me to my car because I was parked so far away.  And then I told him what had happened when we got there.  "And I'm sorry," I finished pathetically.

He sighed and rubbed his hand across his hair.  "So, you just happened to run into him twice in the same week after not seeing him for months?" he asked.  He had control of his words again, and he spoke at his normal rate.

"I thought it was weird too," I replied weakly.  "But remember how many times James ran into Liv way back before they started dating?"  I was grasping at straws to prove my innocence and realized that I was probably making myself sound guiltier.

"And he knows you have a boyfriend," Damien continued, clearly trying to make sense of everything.  I was hopeful; it seemed like he wanted to believe me, even though my story was admittedly far fetched.

"Yes, he absolutely knows that," I told him.  I tentatively reached for one of his hands but he moved it out of my reach.  I bit my lip and looked down.

"So you happened to run into the guy you were fucking while we were broken up, not once but twice in the same week?  And he walked you to your car, because you were parked far away and it was 1am on a Saturday, and any decent man would do that?  And then he kissed you.  And you kissed him back, but only for a second until you realized what was happening?  And then you told him to get the fuck away from you, got in your car, and drove straight here?"  His words were careful, his speech slow.  I could tell he was processing everything out loud as he spoke, and the couple of words he emphasized were the only clue that he was unhappy.

I nodded and he leaned forward and put his face in his hands for several seconds before he looked back up at me.  "It all sounds a little...unbelievable," he said.

"Yes," I said softly.  "I know it does."

Without looking up, he said, "I need some time to process all this.  It's late, so if you'd like to stay rather than drive home, you're welcome to the guest room."

I stood up, not sure what to do.  "I..." I stopped.  "I can just go home," I said reluctantly.  I was worried about what would happen if I left, but I knew I needed to respect his need for some time and space.  I grabbed my purse, which was tipped on its side on the floor next to the couch, and walked towards the door.

I was at the door when Damien said, "Wait."  I stopped with my hand on the knob.  "I'd prefer it if you stayed," he said quietly.  "In the guest room.  But here.  You can go if you want, I understand.  But...the last time you walked out of my house like this, everything got really fucked up.  I want this to be different.  I just need to think."

I turned around and he was watching me.  "I just need to think," he repeated.  "But I want you to stay.  If you want to."  His face was finally showing some signs of his emotions, and he looked weary, confused, and sad.  I wasn't sure if that was better or worse than angry, which is what I had been expecting.

"I'd like to," I agreed.  "I'm not sure I'm really in a good state to be driving this late."

He led me up to the guest room and left to let me get settled.  In the attached bathroom I found a toothbrush, toothpaste, and generic face wash in the drawer of the vanity.  I scrubbed off my makeup and brushed my teeth.

I came out of the bathroom just in time to hear Damien knock on the bedroom door.  I opened it.  He handed me a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  "The pants are too small for me, though they'll probably still be huge on you."  I took them and we both stood there for a few seconds.  As if he just remembered it, he held out his other hand, dangling a hooded sweatshirt towards me.  He shrugged.  "You know how cold it can be in here in the morning."

"Thank you," I said, taking the sweatshirt and laying it over the chair in the room.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.  "Did you find a toothbrush?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding.  This felt so stiff, so formal.  "I think I have everything I need.  Thank you."

"You're welcome."  He regarded me carefully for a minute, and I resisted the urge to throw myself at him, to wrap my arms around him so tightly that he'd have no choice but to hug me back.  To my surprise, he stepped forward and put his arms around me.  I sagged against his chest in relief, wrapping my arms tightly around his lower back and choking back a sob.  I didn't want to start crying again.  Too soon, he let go and stepped back.  I bit my lip and looked at his chest.  "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too," I whispered.  I made eye contact with him as I said it, maybe for the first time since I'd gotten here.

"Goodnight, Kinsley."  And then he was gone.  I heard his footsteps disappear down the hall to his room.  I squeezed my eyes shut and sank down onto the bed, feeling like the worst person in the world.  How could I have let this happen?  I never should have let Cole walk me to my car.  I should have gone with Liv and Lauren like someone with some common sense would have.  I should have let them drive me to my car.

I fought back tears and I pulled my phone out of my purse and toyed with it.  I desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone, but I realized I had no one to talk to.  Lauren would lecture me.  Liv would be overly sympathetic, which I didn't want right now.  This is when some of my friends would call their moms, or a sibling, I thought bitterly.  Too bad my family was so fucked up.

I threw my phone across the room, and it hit the wall with a dull thud.  I angrily pulled off my clothes and pulled Damien's t-shirt over my head.  I looked desperately around the room for something to derive some minuscule bit of comfort from and settled on Damien's sweatshirt.  I tucked it into a ball and climbed into bed, hugging the sweatshirt tightly against my body.  Once more, I cursed my awful, fucked up family, and then I started to cry again.

I cried for about a half hour before I managed to calm myself down.  I felt like such a disaster.  I was sniffling and sucking in shaky breaths when I heard a very faint knock on the door.  Before I could respond, the door slid open a couple inches.  I rolled over and saw Damien slip into the room.  He didn't say anything, he just climbed under the blankets and laid next to me, wrapping his arm tightly around me.  I didn't say anything either, and soon I fell asleep--the first time I'd ever fallen asleep in someone's arms.

Kinsley: Friends

You know how I love my bonuses.  I'll be back to school soon and won't have time to write as many, so I better give you guys some while I can!  If you haven't read Sunday's post yet, don't miss it!
________________________________________

Our pre-dinner sex was exactly what I needed to settle down a little.  Cole was gone from my head, and I even grabbed Damien's hand as we left my house and walked to his truck--which was indeed running.  "At least my truck is still here," Damien teased me as he pulled open the passenger side door for me.

"What's this?" I asked, smirking.  "You knock on my door like a gentleman, fuck me like that, and then open the car door for me like a gentleman?  Trying to make sure I know you're not a dirty old man?"

He laughed and shook his head.  "Careful with that 'old man' crap," he said.  "Don't make me prove my virility again."  He winked and held out a hand to help me up into the truck.

I snorted as I got in and muttered, "Your virility.  Okay, Damien."

He walked around the front of the truck and climbed in on the driver's side.  "Hi," he said, smiling at me.  "I never got the chance to properly greet you."

"Hi," I answered, returning his smile and leaning over the center console to kiss him.  He gently pushed a piece of hair out of the way, then cradled the side of my face in his hand as he kissed me back.  I loved the contrast of the tenderness after the quick, hard sex we'd just had.  I leaned my face against his hand for a second after we separated and sighed.

"How was your day?" he asked, his hand still warm against my face.

I closed my eyes briefly before I settled back into my seat and put my seatbelt on.  "It was fine," I said.  "We're slow at work this week so I spent a lot of time shopping online."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, chuckling.  "What did you buy?"

"Nothing," I replied.  "I was window shopping, I guess."

"Something in particular you were looking for?"

I shrugged.  "I want a new pair of boots but nothing is really doing it for me.  I made my appointment to use my Christmas gift for Saturday, too."

"Good," he said, smiling.

"I'm looking forward to it.  How was your day?"

"Busy," he replied.  "I went in early so I could get out at a reasonable time tonight so we could go out to dinner."

"Well, thank you," I said.  "We could have rescheduled for tomorrow if you were that busy."

"I didn't want to," he told me.  "I wanted to see you tonight."

Our dinner was nice and I relaxed even more.  "I figured while I was spending the day at the salon, I might as well get my hair cut too," I told Damien as we were waiting for our appetizer.

"Yeah?  What are you going to do with it?"

"I think I'm going to cut if off," I answered.  "Collarbone length or so."

Damien reached over and brushed my long hair back over my shoulders and cocked his head.  Then he nodded.  "I think that will look good on you," he said.

"Good," I replied, "Because even if you didn't, I'd still do it."

"I would never expect you to do something with your hair or clothes or makeup based on what I like, so we're on the same page," he said, chuckling.

A devious smirk turned up the corners of mouth.  "I'd wear lingerie that you liked," I said quietly, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Would you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow to match mine.  "Now that I might take you up on."

"Pick something out and I'll get it and wear it for you," I told him.

He was about to respond when our server brought us the appetizer we'd ordered.  He snapped his mouth shut and just smiled slyly at me instead.  I loved this side of him, and I'd been seeing more of it lately.

We managed to behave ourselves for the rest of dinner, then we moved to the bar area for one last drink before we headed back.  We sat in the corner of the bar, legs touching, talking as we drank.

Once we finished our drinks, we left.  I shivered as we walked out into the cold and Damien slipped his arm around me.  I moved close enough to him that it made it hard to walk, and we both laughed as I shifted away enough so that we could make our way down the sidewalk without tripping each other.

"My lady," Damien said, bowing as he opened the door to his truck for me.

I took his hand and climbed up into the truck.  "You're ridiculous," I told him, laughing.

He kissed my hand and said, "I'm okay with that," before he shut the door.

When we got back to my house, Damien plopped down on the couch and pulled me down next to him.  I curled up against his chest and let him wrap his arms around me.  We cuddled on the couch until we were both almost asleep, then we moved up to bed.

Damien was busy all week and I didn't get to see him again until Friday.  He was exhausted, so we stayed in.  I even pretended to be a good girlfriend and cooked him dinner.

After dinner, we hung out on the couch together with a movie on and Damien's head in my lap.  I absently massaged his head, rubbing my fingertips over his short hair.  About 20 minutes into the movie, I impulsively blurted out, "Do you want to get married?"

"Right now?" he asked, turning his head up to smirk at me.

"Don't be a dick," I tell him, my cheeks getting pink.  "Never mind."

He twisted and sat up, looking at me seriously now.  "I'm sorry.  Tell me what you meant."

I was uncomfortable and I fidgeted under his gaze.  He read my discomfort perfectly and laid back down, settling his head back on my lap.  My fingers automatically went back to his head, soothed by the texture of his hair against them.  It's easier to talk without him looking at me.  "I mean...ever, I guess?  Is marriage a thing that you want, someday?  With someone?  I know that you were engaged..." I trailed off, regretting saying anything at all.

"I would like to get married someday," he answered.  "I'd like to have a family too, maybe."

"A family?" I squeaked.  I cleared my throat.  "Like, kids?"

I saw the corners of his mouth twitch.  "Yes, like kids.  How about you?  Do you want to get married?  Have kids?"

This seemed like such a nonchalant and ridiculous way to have this conversation, but I wasn't ready to have it in any other way yet.  "Yeah," I replied.  "I mean, I think."

"You think?" he probed gently.

"I guess I spent so long convinced that I'd never end up in an actual relationship that I've only just started considering the possibility of both," I admitted.

"And what has you considering these possibilities now?" he asked.  This time his smile was clear.

"Shut up," I said.

"It wouldn't be me, would it?"  He turned and looked up at me.

"I said shut up," I reminded him, fighting my smile.  "But maybe."

He reached up for my hand and twisted his fingers with mine, bringing my hand to his lips.  He kissed my knuckles gently then brought our linked hands to his chest, resting them there.  "Well, if you're thinking about wanting to maybe marry me someday, and you want to talk about it some more, I'd be happy to.  But I'm not in a hurry."

"Okay," I said.  "I'll keep that in mind."  He nodded and turned back towards the movie, and I was relieved.  Both that the conversation was over, and that it had happened.

I barely managed to kick Damien out in time for me to leave for my salon appointment on Saturday.  Somehow, I got there with 2 minutes to spare, which is basically the normal person's equivalent of being about 20 minutes early.

The day was excellent, and though I had briefly second guessed my plan to chop off my hair, by the time I sat in my stylist's chair I was relaxed enough to go for it.  When I sat down, my hair fell to the middle of my back.  When I left, nearly 8 inches was gone.  I shook my head, feeling the ends of my hair brush across the back of my neck.

The first thing I did when I got in my car was take a picture and send it to Damien, Liv, and Lauren, then posted it to Facebook.  Don't pretend you don't you do the same thing.  Then I hurried home to get ready.  Lauren, Liv, and I were having a girls' night out tonight.  It had been a long time since we'd done that, and I was excited.

Of course, I'd promised Damien I'd go for a run with him in the morning, Lauren had to get back to Alex, and Liv lived out of town, so it was safe to say that none of us would be getting wild and crazy tonight.  It didn't matter.  Going out and having a couple drinks and dancing with them was enough for me.

We were on the third bar of the evening (and getting close to tapping out) when someone touched my shoulder.  "What are you drinking?" Cole asked, close to my ear.

"Water," I replied, once I had caught my breath.  "And for fuck's sake, stop sneaking up on me like that!"  I whirled and glared at him.  He was, of course, smirking.  I cocked an eyebrow angrily and he tried to make his grin go away but it wasn't working.

"Sorry," he said.  "It's loud in here, there was no way to get your attention without scaring you."

"You're full of shit," I snapped.  "And seriously?  I don't see you anywhere for months and now I see you twice in one week?"

"Months ago you would have been happy about that," he replied nonchalantly.  He nodded a belated greeting to Lauren and Liv, who were both watching a little suspiciously.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Lauren called.  "Do you want to come?"  I paused, then shook my head.  She raised her eyebrows at me, then shrugged and grabbed Liv, pulling her towards the bathroom.

"I'm a little bummed that you're not happier to see me," Cole said, not sounding bummed at all.  He leaned against the table, effectively trapping me between him and the wall.  "I was hoping we could at least stay friends."

"Cole," I started.  I shook my head and stopped.

"What?" he asked.

"I can't be friends with you," I told him simply.  "It's too hard."

"Why?" He looked genuinely curious.

I sighed and pushed my hair out of my face.  "You know why.  I've never been able to look at you without wanting to get in your pants.  It's not like that's changed.  I'm not interested in doing anything to fuck up my relationship, so I think it's better if we're just...not."

He looked as though he was considering this when Lauren and Liv came back.  "Are you ready to leave?" Liv asked, after a quick glance at Cole.  She looked down at her watch, which I hadn't noticed before and must be new.  It looked expensive.  "It's getting kind of late."

"Yeah," I said quickly.  "I'm ready."  After a quick discussion of where we were parked, we discovered Lauren and Liv were parked fairly close and I was parked in the opposite direction and a solid 5 blocks away.

Cole glanced at me and said, "Let me walk you to your car, at least."

"Fine," I agreed grudgingly.  I wasn't looking forward to the 5 block walk by myself this late on a Saturday, anyway.

"You're okay, then?" Lauren asked me.  "Otherwise you can walk with us and one of us can drop you off at your car."

"I'm okay," I told her.  I hugged them both and we set off in opposite directions.

Cole kept up easily with my brisk pace, and was mercifully quiet as we walked.  When we got to my car, I turned and said, "Well, thanks for walking with me.  I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he said, and it was one of the most sincere-sounding things that had ever come out of his mouth.  "By the way, I like your hair...even if it's probably harder to get a good handful now."

I rolled my eyes and without thinking said, "I'm sure it's just fine."

"Let's see," he said teasingly, and before I could stop him, he'd grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of my head.  Operating purely on reflex, I sighed and let my eyes flutter closed, losing myself for just a second.

And then Cole kissed me.

Kinsley: In a Hurry

"Cole," I said in surprise.  "Hi."  Liv and Lauren look really confused, and they're looking between Cole and I as if they've never seen a man before.

"Hey Kins," he replied, flashing a smile that was enough to make my palms start to sweat.  "It's been awhile."

"Yeah," I agreed.  "It has been.  How are you?"

"I'm good.  And you look good.  Are you going to introduce me to your gorgeous friends?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.  "Gorgeous and very much not single," I informed him.  "But, the one with the huge diamond on her left hand is Olivia, and the one with the huge emerald on her left hand is Lauren."

Cole grinned and said, "Nice to meet you, Huge Diamond Olivia and Huge Emerald Lauren.  I'm Cole, I used to work with Kinsley."   Liv and Lauren both said hi, then looked back at me.  They're clearly confused, and I don't blame them.  "Anyway, I'll let you ladies get back to your dinner, but I wanted to say hi.  I'll see you around."  He smiled disarmingly at each of us in turn, then turned and left.

"Okay," Liv said, as soon as he was out of earshot.  "Who the hell is that?"

"He is hot," Lauren added.  She narrowed her eyes at me.  "And you've fucked him, haven't you?  Lucky bitch."

"Yeah," I replied.  "I was sleeping with him while Damien and I were broken up."

"Was it good?  I bet it was, he looks like he knows how to lay some serious pipe," Lauren observed.

Liv's face turns pink and she elbows Lauren.  "'Lay some serious pipe'? Really?"

I laughed and Lauren joined me.  "Yeah, actually.  He's pretty talented."

"Too bad I'm not single," Lauren said, cocking an eyebrow.  "Mmmm."  That time, Liv and I both looked at her.  "What?  I'm out of sorts today, wait until you hear what happened."  Lauren filled us in on what happened with her job and I was absolutely shocked.  We talked about it for the rest of our dinner, forgetting about Cole and his serious pipe.

I hit the bathroom before I left, saying goodbye to Lauren and Liv as they headed for the door.  On my way out, I glanced towards the bar, and happened to catch Cole's eye.  He grinned and winked, tipping his chin ever so slightly.  I smiled back and turned, leaving quickly so I didn't have to think about the way that smile and wink made me feel.

I was unlocking my car door when his voice made me jump.  "In a hurry?" he asked.

I spun and glared at him.  He was leaning casually against the side of my car.  "Jesus Christ, Cole.  You should fucking know better than to sneak up on me like that.  Fuck you!"

"Here?" He smirked and glanced around.  "If you really want to."

"You're disgusting," I said.

"You've never complained before," he replied with a shrug.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked him, trying to covertly check him out.  The way the corners of his lips twitched up told me I wasn't sneaky enough.

He shrugged.  "I just wanted to say hi.  I haven't seen you since you got back together with that boyfriend."

"That's probably a good thing, don't you think?"

"Depends on your perspective, I guess," he replied.  "I was just starting to enjoy hanging out with you."

"Cole," I said, a note of warning in my voice.

He held up his hands in surrender.  "I didn't mean anything by it," he assured me.  "I'm not looking to change your situation.  You've got a good thing, from what you told me.  It all just ended a little abruptly and I do miss pulling that pretty hair of yours."  He reached out and grabbed the end of a chunk of hair and tugged lightly.

"Stop it," I demanded, trying to ignore the flutter of anticipation in my stomach when he tugged on my hair.

He let go of my hair and shifted back a little.  "Sorry," he said, and it sounded genuine.  "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick, I swear.  I really did just want to say hi.  I can't help being an asshole sometimes."

"No kidding," I replied, pulling open my car door.  "Look, it was good to see you, but I really should get going."

"Sure," he answered, flashing that disarming smile again.  "Good to see you too.  I wouldn't mind running into you again."  He cocked an eyebrow, then turned and headed back towards the restaurant.
I got in my car and took a deep, shaky breath.  I pushed my hair out of my face and silently reminded myself of the ridiculous amount of really amazing sex Damien and I had had over the weekend, and how miserable I'd been without him.  "Fuck," I whispered to myself.  Why did 5 minutes with this asshole make me weak in the knees?

I grabbed my phone and called Damien.  "Hey, baby," he answered cheerfully, and I immediately felt guilty.

"Hi," I replied.  "What are you doing?"

"Still at the office, unfortunately," he said.  "I can come over when I'm done, if you want?"

"No, that's okay," I told him.  Realizing that was a strange answer, I hurried to amend it.  "I just got done with dinner and I'm really tired.  I think I'm going to head to bed early tonight."

"Okay," he replied, sounding a little disappointed.  "Can I see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Definitely," I said immediately.  "Can we go out for dinner?"

"We can do whatever you want," he told me.  "But I guess I should get back to work so I can get out of here at a reasonable time.  I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay.  I love you, Damien."

"I love you, too.  Goodnight, Kinsley."  I said goodnight and hung up, resting my forehead on the steering wheel briefly before I straightened and started the car.

I made my way home and without even thinking about what I was doing I started to clean.  My house wasn't nearly as clean as it had been during the time Damien and I were broken up.  I hadn't had a good excuse to give it a good deep clean, but now I did.  Anything to keep my mind off Cole.

Honestly, I was pissed at myself for letting his presence and his touch get to me.  I'd barely even thought about him since Damien and I got back together.  Until tonight.  Asshole.  Who the fuck did he think he was?

I cleaned furiously, and eventually my rage started to subside.  I realized I was overreacting and if he said he didn't mean anything by it, then he didn't mean anything by it.  I glanced at the clock and realized with shock that I'd been cleaning for 3 hours.  I finished up dusting my living room furniture and window sills and put my cleaning supplies away.

It was past my bedtime but I got in the shower to try to get the cleaning supply smell off me.  Cleaning and the shower relaxed me, and it didn't take me long to fall asleep.  It also didn't take me long to wake up from a steamy dream about Cole.  In the dream, he'd used his grip on a handful of my hair to tilt my head back and was dragging his teeth down my throat.  His other hand was... I shook my head to clear the thought, but I shivered just remembering the dream.  "God damn it, girl, get it together," I hissed at myself in the dark.

I got out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom, and splashed a little cool water on my face, trying to calm the angry, neglected throbbing of certain parts of my anatomy.  I got back in bed and tossed and turned until the feeling finally faded and I fell back to sleep.

I was on edge all day at work.  For some reason, the dream (and my body's reaction to it) really shook me up.  I had sex dreams about random guys all the time, but they never bothered me.  This one, however, felt like it was mocking me.

When Damien knocked on my door to pick me up for dinner (seriously, even now he still knocks on my door), I flung it open, grabbed him by the front of his coat, and pulled him inside.  He barely got a chance to greet me before I kissed him hard.

"Kinsley," he said breathlessly, gently disentangling himself.  "My truck is running."

"You'd better fucking make it quick then, huh?" I replied, grinning devilishly at him.  Never one to turn down a challenge, he backed me up to the arm of the couch, spun me around and shoved my upper body down across the couch.  Then he flipped my dress up onto my back and tugged my tights down.

"Next time, skip the tights," he demanded, working them down my thighs.  He left them around my calves, trapping my legs together, and worked a hand between my legs.  I groaned and arched my back just in time for his hand to disappear.  I heard his belt, then his zipper, and then he was sliding into the small space created by my tightly joined legs and pushing inside of me.  I moaned and dropped my head down to rest on the couch cushion in front of me as he slid a hand beneath me and began stroking me as he thrust.

I was seconds away from orgasm when he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of my hair, tugging my head up and arching my back.  I came immediately, my legs trembling against the side of the couch.  Damien used the hand under my hips to keep me from sliding down to the floor and thrust harder, making me come a second time in less than a minute.  He finished shortly after and stroked my back for several seconds, keeping me pinned between his body and the couch until my legs could support my weight again.  Even after he pulled out, I stayed bent over the arm of the couch, catching my breath.

"Holy shit," I breathed, pulling my face up from the couch cushion.  "Where the fuck did that come from?"  It had been exactly what I needed, and not Damien's normal style.  Even when he humored me and pulled my hair or fucked me hard, it still had a very distinct "Damien" feel to it.  This had felt like a totally different person fucking me hard from behind.

"I could ask you the same thing," he answered, lightly smacking my ass.  "I guess you inspired me.  Are you ready for dinner?   I'm starving."

"Sure," I replied, finally straightening up.  I dragged my tights back up and adjusted them, then smoothed my dress back down over my ass.  "Yeah.  Let's go eat."