Be My One Regret

be my 1 regret / 26

ALWAYS GOING IN CIRCLES.....like a damn circus performer....hate that....

"Fi, baby, it's me. Open the door."

Standing on the other side of my condo door, my heart back flips out of my chest and off my 15th floor balcony. I grip the stem of my wine glass. Hesitant to respond. It wasn't like I didn't want to see Tanner. It's just that I didn't want him to see me. One glance. One sniff. And he'd know.

And hell, if that wasn't the most awkward thing on the planet when my best friend could take one look at me and know I had sex. Which I had. Pleasurably so, since my happy ending lunch date with Baz took a naughty turn into taking the rest of the day off. And skipping out on my responsibilities proved to be a winning choice. Baz didn't disappoint. Creativity and endurance were his two finest points. Enough to shatter Guinness World records for most orgasms given in a six hour period. Back breaking, heart palpitating, life changing orgasms. Ones that left me desperate for more despite my sexually satisfied but sore body. It was exhaustively awesome for him and me until about an hour ago when I finally and ever so reluctantly watched 'Baz the freak between the sheets' with his impish grinning face leave my apartment.

Oh, gawd yes. Best day of hooky ever.

Goose bumps rush over me at the heated memory of his mouth and body covering mine repeatedly until my limbs were numb. My inner thighs tingle, and I sigh leaning against the door for support. Bumping the wood frame a little too hard stirring another prompted knock from the other side.

"C'mon, baby, I can smell your skank thru the door."

My eyes widen at my unseen exposure. I clench my jaw looking down at my racy red silk robe that barely covers my ass. The one I only wear for special occasions. Which up until sixty minutes ago, it was an exceptionally special occasion. But now. With no bra or panties underneath the flimsy loose fabric. My bare feet wiggling with anxiety. My freshly JBF'ed hair spilling over my shoulders with shame. And my flustering, heated skin with embarrassment. I was definitely showing off some inner skank.

Damn it. I'm more than an open freaking book right now in this over-stimulated state. Everything about me will read out loud to him like a fucking Amazon Audible.

Shit. I should have taken a shower.

Fuck that. This was my place. I can do what I want. What the hell was he doing here anyway?

The obvious question strips every last Baz-induced warm fuzzies from me. Cold and miserable at the hands of my bff-slash-sex -mood -killer- nemesis, I glower at my wine wishing for something stronger before I unwillingly open my front door. "Geez, Tan-" My eyes re-gage at the form in front of me, and my scowl transforms into pure ugliness at his once again twin switch abuse. "Oh my gawd. Tucker. What the hell?"

There's a surly formation of thought in his raging green eyes but he doesn't utter a single word of it. His lips twist into a buttoned-up snarl as he brushes past me silently strong like a typhoon gale.

Annoyed by his rude intrusion, I flick my wrist to shut the door behind him and sarcastically sigh as I turn to face him. "Gee, just come right on in, Tuck. Don't be shy."

A raw, furious gaze whips over me. Taking in the scene of my less than hidden crimes of passion. And judging me for it. Damn him. I plant my hands on my hips suppressing the shame that he instills with his eyes and rebelliously glare back. But it does nothing to keep him from staring thru me, as if I was transparent.

Which...duh...I so was. But who cares? I didn't owe him a damn thing, right? We were nothing to each other. Just two occasional friends with sometimes benefits. It's a barely anything relationship.