Ours After All (All Ours, #2)

Chapter 7

You know when it's really not a great time to meet up with your best friend?

The morning after you've had a hotter-than-Hell itself sex dream about him.

In all the years I've been...feeling the things I have been feeling for him, not once have I woken up with my panties in a twist because of it- literally. I woke up with a face soaked with tears and even wetter underwear.

It freaked me out so much, I just can't get it out of my head. I was married and cheating on my husband with him- something I'd never do. I was married and he didn't like it- he seemed to even be hating that little factor. I crawled to him, on my freaking knees, and let him call me names- names I should be disgusted at and hating him for, but they're stuck in my head and make me shiver with a rush of heat through my system every time I think back to it.

It's sick. I'm sick.

And now I'm in his gym for our weekly Saturday workout, and I can't even look him in the eyes because every time I do, I get flashbacks of him looking down at me with those same hypnotizing eyes all the while his dick was in my mouth, with him commanding me to swallow and taste it and calling me perfect.

It. Won't. Leave. My. Mind.

I'm afraid it never will.

God, why couldn't this be like one of those dreams where you've forgotten everything by the time you've opened your eyes? Why do I have to remember every little excruciating detail? I'm only glad Maxwell hadn't decided to stay over that night because giving the sore throat I woke up with, I don't think I was just screaming my best friend's name in my dreams.

What did I even do to piss off God?

I have been so good. Kinda happy even- outside of the fact that I've been missing my friends. Been keeping myself busy with work. With Max. With my family even. I knew introducing them to the handsome lawyer boyfriend would score me some brownie points, but I didn't expect them to get downright obsessed. Every day I get calls from them, and the first question is always whether or not I've scared him off yet.

Not yet.

''You know, the whole point of a punching bag is to throw punches at it, not to break it.''

I stiffen at the familiar voice behind me, but I'm back to heaving strikes with a shake to my head a second later, forcing every muscle in my body to ignore him.

''You walked right past me when you came in, what's going on?''

Again, it takes an agonizing amount of effort to actually ignore him.

Hearing his voice is worse than I thought it was going to be. I thought I could do it. I'd see him and realize how crazy I was for getting worked up over a little dream.

My first clue for implosion was when I first walked into the gym today and saw him through the corner of my eye, standing there with his brother Markus, arms crossed and muscles bulging and...just Joshua being Joshua, effortlessly gorgeous. I didn't stop as I normally would. Didn't let him prepare me a protein shake as he normally would. Didn't mess around with him and Markus on some equipment's before our actual workout would start, again, the way we normally would be doing.

And now, having his deep voice come up behind me, even deeper and huskier with the bit of confusion laced through it... It's making me remember everything I wish to forget.

What a whiny little slut you are, begging a man that's not your husband to make you come.

Got you so nice and slippery, huh, baby?