~ Hayley ~
It’s only been twelve days since I last had sex, but my body is acting like I’ve been stranded in a desert for a decade.
I finally dumped my gold-digging ex, Fredrick, which means I’m single again with a drawer full of toys.
I’m so horny, I could pluck my eyes out, climb the walls, or scream into a pillow.
But nothing helps.
And it’s not just about getting off. I want a man. With real skin and real hands. Someone to hold me tight and whisper dirty words into my ears.
And tonight, I’ve fucking had enough.
Enough of waiting. Enough of touching myself and imagining someone else’s hands on me.
So I pull out a silk dress I haven’t worn in two years. It’s red and tight. The kind of dress that says, ‘don’t ask questions, just take me to your room.’
I slide it over my body, smooth the fabric down, and feel a spark of recklessness light up inside me.
I touch my lipstick and pack a few of my favorite toys just in case. If I can’t find someone with rough hands and darker intentions, I’ll still make the walls shake on my own… preferably without my neighbors banging on my door again.
The thought makes my pulse quicken, heat pooling low in my stomach.
God, why would you give me a libido that could power a generator?
I take a deep breath and step out into the night, letting the crisp air hit my bare arms. The streetlights glint off the red fabric, and I can’t help but smirk at the thought of someone noticing.
The hotel’s only a few blocks away. I step into the lobby and order a drink, letting my eyes wander, letting anticipation curl like fire along my spine.
Every second feels stretched, every heartbeat louder, because something tells me I won’t be leaving alone.
And then my eyes land on him.
Tyler Benson.
My high school crush. The boy I used to daydream about in history class, the one I actually wrote love letters to, spilling every dirty little fantasy like the fearless brat I was.
Guess I’ve always had that bad bitch energy.
I used to watch him and pretend he’d look back at me one day, like his world wasn’t miles out of my league.
He wasn’t just a crush. For a little while, he made me believe wanting more wasn’t stupid… even though it was, in the end.
Tyler always smelled like trouble and mint gum. He was two grades ahead of me. Popular. Untouchable. And now he’s standing at the check-in counter across the lobby, looking like a sin I forgot I still wanted.
He hasn’t changed much, he’s still tall and has that effortless swagger. But there’s something darker in his eyes now.
I’m halfway through my drink when he finally spots me.
His gaze lingers a second too long like he’s flipping through every version of me he’s ever glimpsed in the halls, at parties, and school events. A faint crease forms between his brows. Not confusion. Recognition. And something else I can’t name yet.
“Hayley?” he calls out.
I freeze. Some part of me never grew out of wanting him. Not the fantasy version. Him.
“Hey, Tyler,” I say, trying to play it cool as he starts walking over. “Wow. Been… what? Six years?”
“Something like that.” He grins, slow and wicked. “You look… damn. You look good.”
Stay calm, Hayley… smile, thank him, and keep sipping your drink like you’re not two seconds from combusting.
He steps closer, lowering his voice just slightly.
“Funny seeing you here,” he says. “You always show up when I least expect it.”
I swallow hard, fingers tightening around my glass. My stomach coils in a way I haven’t felt in years.
Did he actually notice me? Or is he just… playing?
Then he says, “I’m in 212. If you feel like catching up.”
And just like that, I’m sixteen again… flushed, burning from the inside out, dizzy with want.
Only this time, I don’t run. This time I’m going upstairs.
Tyler drags his small suitcase up the stairs, the wheels clicking against the steps. Every scrape of the bag against the floor feels electric, like he’s deliberately marking his presence.
I can’t stop staring at the curve of his shoulders under the crisp black shirt, the way his fingers brush the railing with effortless confidence.
My mind screams ‘touch him,’ but I force myself to walk, savoring the moment.
When he unlocks the door, the scent of cedarwood and something faintly spicy hits me. The lights are dimmed, the bed untouched.
Tyler sets his small suitcase neatly by the corner and leans against the door, arms crossed, watching me like he’s not sure if I’m real. Or maybe he’s deciding what to do with me.
There’s something heavy in his gaze, something I can’t quite place. Like he’s fighting the urge to tell me something.
My heart races. Not just from desire but from the moments we never had. Could I handle whatever comes next without falling apart?
His eyes soften for a moment.
“I used to wonder what you’d be like when you grew up,” he says quietly. “Never thought I’d find out in a hotel lobby.”
Heat crawls up my neck and into my cheeks, and for a second I can’t get a single word out.
He walks toward me slowly. “You used to watch me in the halls like I was some kind of fantasy, you know that?”
My heart skips. “Guess I couldn’t help it…”
He stops right in front of me, so close I can feel the heat off his skin. He brushes a strand of hair off my shoulder. “And now?”
I shouldn’t be here… not with him… but he’s infinitely more tempting than anyone else I might have picked tonight.
“I really don’t have to imagine anymore,” I whisper. Already feeling the wetness between my legs.
That’s all it takes.
His breath warms my cheek, carrying that same faint mint I remember.
His fingers press into my waist, then he kisses me like he’s waited years for it… and maybe he has.
His mouth is hot, hungry, familiar in a way it shouldn’t be. I melt into it, letting him press me back against the wall.
My purse slips from my hand and hits the floor with a soft thud.
A second later comes the unmistakable rattle.
My silver bullet vibe rolls out, followed by a pair of satin restraints and my pink dildo.
Tyler pulls back just slightly, glancing down.
Before I can move, he crouches slowly and picks them up like it’s something sacred and filthy all at once.
My stomach flutters as a flush creep over me.
“You… you didn’t have to,” I whisper, almost embarrassed.
He looks up at me. His voice drops an octave, thick with heat.
“Tell me, Hayley. Were you going to fuck yourself with these after your drink? Or were you hoping someone might beat you to it?”
I swallow. My mouth’s dry. My thighs are already aching.
He brushes a finger along the satin, then gets up and steps closer again, lips grazing my ear.
“If you were that desperate, darling… sure, I guess you could’ve written me another letter. Then I’d have driven here just to watch you fall apart on my fingers and make sure you don’t leave until I make you forget how to walk.”
He says it like a promise, teasing me and warning me all at once.
My breath catches. My thighs press together. And he notices, of course he does.
He sets the toys down on the nightstand like a trophy.
Then his hand moves to my jaw, tilting my face up so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. They’re darker now, and hungry… like I just woke something up in him that’s been buried for years.
“I’ve thought about your letters… a lot.” His thumb brushes my lips, and I shiver. “Every word, every fantasy…” His lips ghost mine and I feel the years of longing tighten around us like a vice.
A moan slips past my lips and he grins like he’s already mapped out exactly what he’s going to do next and I’m powerless to stop him.
I wanted Tyler long before I even understood desire. Maybe that’s why my body answers him so easily.
“Come here.” His fingers trail along my collarbone, sending shivers through me. “Let me see if you taste as sweet as I imagined.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer. He doesn’t need to.
Because the moment I nod, his hand wraps around my waist and pull me in, lips trailing kisses from my neck down to my cleavage.
He leans back just enough. “You won’t be needing those,” he murmurs, “But I might still make you use them. Just for me.”
I try to catch my breath, but his hands have other plans.
They move to my hips, firm and demanding, as he guides me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed.
His hands stay on my hips but he doesn’t go any further yet. He just watches, eyes half-lidded, taking me in like he’s memorizing every breath.
“Sit.”
I obey, pulse thudding in my throat.
Tonight is already turning out better than I imagined.
Tyler drops to his knees in front of me like it’s nothing. Like worshiping me has been his plan all along.
He pushes my thighs apart and runs his palms slowly over the silk of my dress, tracing the smooth skin beneath.
“You used to write about this,” he says, voice dark and low. “You wanted me to get on my knees for you… or was it the other way around?”
I bite my lip, breath catching.
He smirks. “Guess we’ll find out.”
He doesn’t rush. He slides his hands under my dress, fingers dragging up my inner thighs until he reaches my bare, wet, and throbbing pussy.
“Fuck,” he growls. “No panties?”
I nod, breathless. “Didn’t seem necessary.”
His eyes flick up to mine, burning. “You really did come here to get ruined.”
He spreads my thighs wider and his mouth finds my clit. Heat presses into me like a living thing, his low groan vibrating through my bones.
I grip his hair, hips arching toward him, and my back lifts off the bed as waves of pleasure race through me, helpless to the way he devours me like he’s starving and I’m the only thing on the menu.
“Tastes even better than I imagined,” he mutters against me, voice slick with sin. “You still want that fantasy, Hayley? You still want the boy you used to dream about to wreck you?”
“Yes,” I pant, fingers tightening in his hair. “God, yes.”