I love having the house to myself. Honestly, at twenty-four, I thought I would be living on my own, but my mother insisted I continue living with her until I finished my education. Insisted it the nice way of putting it. In reality, she told me she would stop paying for my schooling if I moved out. So, I did what she wanted and stayed. There is no way I could work enough to afford a place and continue making straight A's.

But now that she's on her honeymoon and won't be home for a week, I'm free to live my life the way I want. This is a taste of freedom, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it. It's like a soft launch of how my life will be once I do move out.

I went to bed as soon as I got home yesterday, but today I start with a lazy morning, sleeping in and eating breakfast in bed. I watch trashy TV and read a book. I go for a walk in the afternoon, enjoying the fresh air. I spend the evening cooking a delicious meal and eating the whole thing without someone commenting on my food intake.

I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed. It's amazing how good it feels to have a little space, to not have someone breathing down my neck all the time. I feel free, like I can do whatever I want, whenever I want.

My phone buzzes with a text from my best friend Skylar.

"Hey, girl. You home yet?"

I smile, quickly replying. "Yeah, got home yesterday."

"Lucky. I'm stuck at work. Bored as fuck."

I laugh, knowing how Skylar hates her job.

"What are you up to tonight? Wanna hang?" she texts.

"Sure, but no clubbing."

"Come on, live a little," Skylar urges.

"Last time you said that, I had a raging hangover for three days."

"Don't be a killjoy."

"What's wrong with going to the movies? Or just staying in and binging on pizza and wine?"

"Ugh, fine. But you better make me popcorn."

I can't help but smile.

"Deal. Come over when you're off."

"Perfect. See you later, gorgeous."

I spend the rest of the afternoon tidying up the house and making sure everything is perfect for Skylar's visit. When she arrives, she brings two bottles of wine and a box of chocolates.

"You're the best," I tell her, pulling her into a warm hug and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I know," she replies, her grin wide and infectious. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Pizza, popcorn, and a movie."

"Oooh, which movie?"

"I was thinking Midnight Haunting," I suggest. "I've seen so many people posting about it. I checked already and I can rent it on my tv."

"Yes, let's do it!" Skylar exclaims.

We curl up on the couch, wine in hand, and start the movie. We half watch the movie and half talk. Skylar wants to know every detail of my mom's wedding. I tell her all about the beautiful setting, the amazing food, and the drama with Carter.

"So, what was your dress like? Did you take pictures?" she probes.

I fish my phone out from the depths of the couch and start scrolling through my gallery until I find a good one. I show her, and she oohs and aahs.

"Oh my god, you look fucking hot in that dress. Please tell me you hooked up with someone," Skylar blurts, eyes wide.

I shake my head, blushing. I can't possibly tell her about Ares.

"Seriously? Girl, you are wasting prime time. You have a body to die for. You need to get out there, meet some guys. And if not a relationship, at least some fun. When was the last time you were properly dicked down?"

"I'm not looking for anything serious. And I really don't have the time for hookups either. I have enough on my plate right now. School, work, my mom."

I list off my usual excuses, but I know if I really wanted to, I could make the time. It isn't like I haven't dated before. I have. But guys my age tend to be boring, or rude, or just plain gross. And if I went for my actual type, men closer to their father's ages, my mother would be mortified. Like she hasn't contributed to my daddy issues.

"You need to make the time. You're young, gorgeous, and single. Don't waste it," she argues, her brow arching in a challenge. "Do you even use that dating profile I made you?"

"Not really," I admit, shrugging. I had honestly forgotten about it. Im not even sure it's still on my phone. I had it for two days and recieved enough dick pics to last a lifetime.

"Well, you should. You're missing out," she insists.

"Am I really, though?" I question, earning me a swat on the arm.

"Okay, but seriously. You're so sexy. Any guy would be lucky to have you," she says, nudging me playfully.

Skylar is my biggest hype girl. She's always complementing me, which makes me feel great about myself considering she is model level gorgeous. She's tall, with legs to die for. Her body is toned and fit from all the jogging she does. And her sun bleached hair and tanned freckled skin don't hurt.

We finish the movie and talk some more. The wine flows, and we giggle like schoolgirls. I love nights like this, just hanging out with my best friend, no pressure or expectations.

Eventually, the wine catches up to us, and we're both feeling sleepy.

"You're staying the night," I say, yawning.

"Can't," Skylar says, shaking her head. "Got an early start tomorrow. Boss wants me in at the ass crack of dawn."

"What a drag," I say, making a face.

"Tell me about it," she agrees, stretching. "I should go. Thanks for a great night."

"Thanks for coming," I say, giving her a hug.

"Text me tomorrow," she says, grabbing her bag.

"Will do."

After Skylar leaves, I get ready for bed. As I lie down, my mind starts to drift. I think about the wedding, about Ares, about that moment on the balcony. I could have let him kiss me. I could have allowed myself one more night with him. But I knew it would complicate things even more, so I pulled away.

I try to clear my mind and sleep, but my thoughts keep circling back to him. Why can't I get him out of my head? Actually, I know why. Everything about him is everything I didn't know I wanted in a man. I've never slept with anyone else like him. Older, experienced, dominant. God, the way he fed me the cake.

The way he looked at me.

I can feel myself getting wet just thinking about it. I bite my lip, sliding my hand down between my legs. I find my clit and rub slow circles, closing my eyes and picturing Ares.

I imagine him standing above me, watching me touch myself. His eyes, dark and intense, filled with lust. He would reach out and push my legs further apart so he can see the mess I'm making for him.

"I'm going to fuck you until you scream," he would growl. And I would let him. I would let that man fuck me until I couldn't remember my own name.

I moan, my fingers moving faster. I'm so turned on, I can barely stand it. My other hand slides up my stomach, my ribs, until I'm rolling one of my nipples between my fingers.

I imagine him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. His cock springing free, hard and thick. Him stroking it it, his eyes locked on mine.

"Keep touching yourself," he would order.

And I would do as he says. I would be such a good girl for him. I rub my clit and slide a finger inside again. It feels so good, but it's not enough. I need more. I need someone else's hand touching me. Someone else's fingers inside me.

My orgasm builds but it refuses to crest over the hill. I groan in frustration. Opening my eyes, I flip over on my side, reaching for my nightstand drawer. Inside is a black box. I open the box and remove the vibrator from its bed of black velvet.

I turn it on and place the tip against my clit. The sensation is immediate and intense. My hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact. I slide the vibrator inside, pumping it in and out. It isn't Ares, but it will do.

I can feel my orgasm building again, the pressure mounting.

"Fuck, yes," I gasp, increasing the speed and friction. I'm so wet and so close.

I imagine Ares behind me, his hands on my hips, his cock buried deep inside me. He would fuck me hard and fast, his fingers digging into my skin. He would call me his good girl and tell me how good my pussy feels around his cock.

My hand is soaked in my juices, and the vibrator is slick with it. I'm on the edge, so close, and I can't hold back any longer. My orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through my body.

I moan and writhe, lost in the sensation. It's pure ecstasy, and I don't want it to end. I continue sliding the vibrator in and out, letting it graze my clit, even though my body protests the overstimulation. My walls pulse and flutter, squeezing around the toy.

As my climax finally ebbs, I relax into the mattress. I pull the vibrator out and turn it off, placing it on the nightstand. I need to go wash it, but my whole body is tingling. I feel boneless. I can barely move.

With a sigh, I roll over and snuggle under the covers. Maybe Skylar is right. Maybe I do need to find a regular hookup, or two. Something that will take the edge off and satisfy my physical needs without risking the emotional entanglements of a relationship.

The thought is a tempting one. But something tells me that no matter how many guys I sleep with, no one will compare to Ares.