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my arms feels warm. I run my hands up and down his back, feeling every dip and curve of his muscles. His body flexes and shivers atop mine as I trail my fingers down the center of his back.
    “Harder,” I order him. This propels him and he rises from me and begins pounding my opening. “Ah, yes. That’s it.”
    “Ugh,” he grunts. “You like that don’t you? Oh, I just love how your pussy feels.” It's obvious he is a talker; a little annoying with all the talking, though, so I try to picture something else as he pounds me.
    Ben. Yes, Ben. I close my eyes and I see him on top of me. Arching my back as sensation pulsates through me, I become wild with passion.
    “Ah!” I moan, meeting Blonde Guy’s thrusts with equal force. I tighten the grip of my sex around his dick causing him to flinch.
    “Fuck,” he groans, clasping my legs to his chest. “You’re so bad. You want me to come don’t you? Do that again.”
    I clutch him again and his lips part and his eyes cross, looking absolutely retarded. I stifle a laugh and close my eyes trying to recapture a picture of Ben.
    I picture Ben grinding inside me, stroke after stroke, touching my sweet spot. And with that image, I’m gone, shattering into an orgasm.
    “Oh, yeah. I love the way you come. I’m right behind you,” he growls.
    Increasing his pace, he batters into me repeatedly. With one hard, final thrust he bellows loudly into his climax, his body shaking and twitching as he empties himself.
    He sprawls out beside me breathing like he’s just run the Philadelphia marathon.
    “How was that?” he breathes.
    “Um, I enjoyed it. You made me come,” I answer the best way I can without hurting his feelings.
    “I knew I could make you come,” he brags. He slips the condom off and ties it. “Could you throw this away?”
    I stare at the used condom he holds over my face. How rude. Asshole . I take the condom and wrap it in tissue paper that I keep in my bedside drawer and I throw it in the waste basket.
    “Do you want something from the kitchen?” I ask him as I wrap myself in my red silk robe.
    “No, I’m ok,” he responds, snuggling into one of my fluffy pillows.
    I make my way to the kitchen. I hear Rachel screaming yes and I smile, happy she is getting her rocks off. This doesn’t happen often, so when it does, usually the guy is or becomes her steady boyfriend. Let’s see if this guy makes the cut.
    I open the fridge and pull out a cold bottle of Sam Adams. Drinking it, I go over to the window and stare out at the lights over Philly. I exhale and reminisce on the Manhattan lights. I really do miss home. But I can’t go back. Not right now. I shrug off the memories and head into my room.
    Blonde Guy is snoring, sprawled out naked on my bed. I am so not sleeping there.
    From the closet I take out a blanket and extra pillows. By the time I head back to the living room, Rachel and her guy are quiet. I lay on the chaise, pulling the blanket up to my chin and staring outside at the lights until I slip into an eventual slumber.
     
     

CHAPTER 5
     
    I wake drenched in sweat. I had another one of those dreams. I was a little girl again and sweaty men held me down. I fought, even tried to scream, but there was no sound. Then, there was darkness. But a tall figure, like light at the end of a dark tunnel, stood shining bright, and it was enough to drag me out of my nightmare.
    Taking up my BlackBerry, I look at the time, 3:29a.m. I groan, hating to wake up before I’ve gotten my seven hours of sleep. I slip from under the covers, knowing what can put me to sleep. As I stand, I hear Rachel’s bedroom door open and Mr. Dark and Mysterious emerges. I stop, just taking him in. He is very handsome, but something doesn’t sit right with me.
    “Yeah,” he whispers, still holding onto the doorknob. I think he’s talking to me when I see him adjust the phone to his ear.
    “I’m out,” he says tersely.
    I slink back into the darkness just to listen in