by Maddie Wade
“Yeah me too,” I said as I finished my drink with a grin.
“Want to dance, Blue?” he asked, and I felt a shudder of arousal go through me at his slow, sultry words.
“Yes,” I croaked my voice was heavy with desire, making his eyes flare with interest. He took my hand, pulling me behind him to the cramped dance floor.
My hand still in his, he pulled me flush against him. My head tucked under his chin, my hand planted against his hard chest, while his other hand came around me and rested on my lower back. Then his hand splayed so his little finger brushed against the top of my butt, but not in an inappropriate way.
Burying my head in his neck I inhaled as we swayed to the slow song playing. I felt his breath against my hair and my body started to tingle deliciously. Our bodies were pushed even closer together as someone stumbled drunkenly into us and I felt the hard ridge of his erection as it pressed into my lower stomach.
Jesus! He was like steel and I felt my nipples harden in response. He bent his mouth close to my ear and my heart jumped in expectation at what he might say. I couldn’t remember when I had last felt this way.
“Feel what you do to me, Pretty Girl,” he whispered as his lips touched the shell of my ear and I shivered. “Been hard as a rock since I saw you walk in, all long legs and sexy fuck-me eyes.”
His words were like a drug to my senses. Recklessness and a desire to be free, to enjoy myself and be fucked how I longed to be, shot through me.
I pressed against him and heard the hiss of breath as I rubbed against his hardness. Lifting my lips to his ear I whispered. “Why don’t we get out of here and you can show me.” No sooner had the words left my lips than he was yanking us toward the exit.
He stopped suddenly, and I bumped into his back, he turned suddenly and pointed behind me. “Go tell your friend you will be at the hotel on the corner of Wilson Street.”
I followed his gaze and saw Frankie watching me a smile larger than the sun on his face. Shit, he was right. I needed to tell someone I was going off with a stranger so that when my dead, mutilated body turned up they would know who did it.
I laughed at my thought process and most of all at the idea that even thinking about it did not cause me to even pause in what I was about to do. Walking to Frankie with my stranger behind me, I told him where I was going.
He grinned and ran his eyes over the man behind me. “Oh, sweetie, I want full details when you’re done.”
I smiled and saw ‘Mac’ hand him a card.
The air was cold as we left the club and walked the two blocks to his hotel. My nerves were making an appearance now and I wondered what the hell I was doing. My hand felt small in his as I walked beside him. Was I completely stupid going off with this man who I had just met? But the electricity that sparked between us was unmistakable, the air practically crackled with it.
“You doing okay?” he asked and squeezed my hand gently to communicate that he understood this was not the norm for me.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Listen if you’re having doubts…”
“I’m not,” I quickly replied not wanting him to think I didn’t want this. I did. More than I had ever wanted anything. Not because I hadn’t had sex in years, which I hadn’t. Not because Dean had told me it was over, which he had. But because I wanted this man. I wanted to feel desired again—alive.
The hotel was one of the most luxurious ones in the state and that gave me some relief. Not because I was a snob but going back to a dingy motel room would have made me feel icky and cheap.
My pulse was hammering as we stepped into the elevator. I hadn’t even kissed this man and yet I was agreeing to sleep with him. What if the chemistry was all in my head he sucked in bed? Or I did? It was possible, I was practically a virgin again these days. I needn’t have worried though, the second the doors closed he pulled me to him and took my mouth in wild kiss. I knew this night would be one I would never forget.
Chapter Seven
Lexi
His lips were firm but soft as he kissed me tracing the seam of my lips with his tongue. I gasped in pleasure as sensation raced through me when his tongue pushed into my mouth. He tasted of Scotch and something else, something delicious and sweet. His big hands roamed my rib cage as I tunneled my fingers into his thick, silky soft hair. Tugging softly, I felt rather than heard the growl that rumbled from his chest, making my body flood with desire.
This was the most intense, drugging kiss I had ever had. My heart pounded so hard I thought it was going to burst right out of my chest. His body was hard as it pressed against me, the solid ridge of his erection pressed against my soft thigh as his muscled one rubbed the sensitive spot between my legs.
The elevator doors pinged open and my dark-haired stranger pulled back, his eyes almost black with desire. Our breathing was labored as we stared at each other for the longest second, before he hooked me around the waist and yanked me close, our lips almost touching when he spoke. “You’re something else, Blue.”
I had no chance to answer before we were moving out of the elevator along the plush carpeted corridor. Stopping at his door, I watched as his strong hands with their sprinkling of fine dark hair, slipped the card into the lock. With a snick and a green light, his door swung open.
He took my hand in his as we walked into his suite. Not a room. A suite. It was huge. Easily as big as my entire ground floor, large side tables held lit lamps that bathed the calm, tranquil space in warm light.
Dropping his keys and phone on the bar to the right of the living space, he turned to look at me as I stood looking around in wonder. Who was this man, that dressed like a bad boy rocker but had the southern manners of a gentleman?
He took off his black leather jacket and threw it on the couch before stalking toward me. There was no other way to describe it, other than stalking and I was very definitely his prey. I held my ground, looking up at his handsome face. He was a few feet from me when I shrugged off my jacket, letting it drop to the floor and closed the distance between us.
I decided I was not his prey. I wanted this more than I had ever wanted anything. I would deal with the guilt and self-hatred that I knew would come tomorrow. But tonight, I was going to enjoy every single moment so that I could store it up and use it on the lonely nights to come.
He caught me as I threw myself into his arms, our lips met, and tongues dueled as we each tried to gain the upper hand. He backed me toward the wall and pinned me with his large body, and grabbing my leg he lifted it, hooking it around his waist as he ground his hardness into me, making me whimper with need.
My hands trailed down his chest frantically pulling his shirt up and over his head. His body was solid muscle, eight-pack abs and that sexy V that made me want to lick him all over. With his hands on my ass he lifted me fully, my legs went around him as my skirt bunched around my hips making me feel wanton and wild.
“I need to be inside you,” he growled. His deep voice made my aching pussy clench with need.
“Yes,” I moaned as his mouth found my nipple through my top and bra. Pushing my head back I thrust into his mouth as he laved attention on my aching body.
My hands were running down his chest to his stomach and I felt his muscles twitch under my fingers.
“Are you wet for me, Pretty Girl?” he asked. I could only groan as his finger found my panties and teased at the edge before sliding along my slit. “Oh yeah, you’re soaking,” he said coarsely as he thrust a finger inside me, pumping into me as I bucked and cried out for the release I knew he could give me. He added a second finger and continued to pump into my now sodden core as his thumb began to circle the tight bud of my clit. Grabbing his head, I pulled at his hair and kissed him hard as I tried to hold on to reality. My climax began to build until I was bucking and biting his lower lip, making him growl against my lips.
“Fuck.”
Tearing my mouth away, I cried out as my orgasm hit me in powerful waves. I lost my grasp on my surroundi
ngs as my body flew apart in a pleasure so intense I thought I was going to black out from it.
I was slowly coming down when he withdrew his fingers and I whimpered a protest at the loss, tightening my legs around him. A warm chuckle rumbled from him as he undid his jeans and tore open a condom he had gotten from somewhere with his teeth before sheathing himself with one hand.
“Hold still, Pretty Girl,” he said. I felt him slide my panties to the side as the tip of his hard cock rubbed at the entrance to my pussy. With his hands on my ass cheeks, he gripped me as he pushed in slowly, filling and stretching me until I thought I couldn’t take any more.
“Jesus Christ, Blue, you are so fucking tight, I can feel you squeezing my cock like a vice. It’s fucking heaven,” he growled as he stopped and took a breath. It was amazing, and I desperately needed him to fuck me as another climax started to build.
“Fuck me,” I whispered. My words were like a flame to dry tinder. He pushed in hard and then he did as I’d asked. He fucked me hard, he fucked me rough, and he fucked me like never before and I loved it. My back banged against the wall until pictures beside me started to fall off and the only sounds coming from us were grunts and groans of pleasure.
My climax raced toward me and hit me full force. I cried out and my channel tightened, squeezing his hard cock as he drove into me, his thrusts becoming un-coordinated as I felt his climax fill me.
Breathing hard, I buried my head in his neck until both our breaths evened out and he gently let me go withdrawing from my body, making my breath hiss out. Holding me with his strong arms around me as my wobbly legs steadied, he kissed the top of my head with a tenderness that was not befitting a one-night stand.
“You good?”
“Yes,” I said, and a smile tipped my mouth, which he must have heard, for he looked down into my eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just realized that I really am okay, and I really didn’t think I would be tonight,” I answered not elaborating any further.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” he asked, and I nodded. “It’s through there.” He pointed to what I assumed was the bedroom area. “I’ll use the one in the hall.”
I walked slowly toward the bathroom, my legs feeling like a newborn doe, barely containing the grin that was splitting my face. Closing and locking the door, I leaned on the sink and looked into the mirror. My hair was messy, wild and sexy looking. My lips were swollen and red from our kisses and my eyes—my eyes were bright and alive for the first time in years.
Touching a hand to the damp spot on my top where his mouth had been I felt a blush creep up my neck at the wonton way I had begged him to fuck me, but oh, it had been so good. I still had the shakes in my thighs and the burn between my legs from the way he had pounded into me. It was hot, carnal, and so fucking wrong, but I couldn’t find it in me to regret it. Not now anyway. Not tonight.
I quickly splashed my face with cold water and used the toilet to relieve my bladder, before straightening my clothes and washing my hands. With a last look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out, with absolutely no clue what to expect.
I walked into the bedroom, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt still missing, and his jeans zipped but unbuttoned in a way that made my mouth water. Dark blue hooded eyes watched me intently, making me shudder with desire as I approached him slowly. As I started to walk past him, he hooked my pinkie with his finger,
“Stay?” He said it like a question, his sapphire eyes dark and slumberous as they bored into me, holding me captive. His hands on my thighs twisted me so that I was facing him, standing between his powerful legs.
“I should go,” I said half-heartedly, not really wanting to, but knowing I should before I was sucked any further into this mistake I was all too eager to make. Then he said the one thing I couldn’t resist.
“Please.” And I was done. My body and mind caved at the passion and need in that one word, things I had not felt directed at me in so many years. So, fool that I was, I stayed.
That night we feasted on each other until we were worn out and exhausted. I let my inhibitions go and did things I had never done, things that I enjoyed. It was dirty, it was wrong, and yet it had never felt more right. As dawn broke and I lay naked, my limbs entangled with his, a man whose name I didn’t even know, I knew that despite wanting to, I could never go back to how I was before. Yet, I also knew it was the only option open to me. Because, despite the betrayal I had committed and the words we had spoken to each other in anger, I loved my husband and I would remain his wife in name only if that was what he wanted. Till death we did part.
Chapter Eight
Dean
When you’re young you think you have all the time in the world and then you blink, and bang, you find yourself an adult, but you still believe you have loads of time. It’s all a trick. Time is something invented by humans to mark the tiny changes in life. The universe does not recognize time, and yet we live by it from the second we are born.
Time between feeds, time between birthdays, time to eat, time to sleep, it is all measured instead of being lived. It’s only now that I have hours and hours to watch as time ticks by that I realize that all the counting stopped me from enjoying the simple things in life.
Somehow, I have skipped to the autumn of my life—physically anyway. As I watch my wife, the woman I promised to love for eternity walk back into our home, I feel guilt so heavy it almost crushes me.
I hurt her. I hurt her with my words and my actions over the last few years. That was never my intention but living this lie and watching as she killed herself to care for a man who did not deserve her was worse.
She ignores me as she moves to the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee. It is a smell I have missed. She got rid of everything in our lives that might hurt me or damage my health after the stroke.
On unsteady legs, I use the hated sticks to help me slowly walk to the kitchen. My left side is weak from the stroke, but the PT sessions help in more ways than I ever expected. Her back is to me when I walk in, the proud arch of her neck exposed by the slopping sweatshirt she is wearing. Her back stiffens slightly when she hears me. Then she pushes her shoulders back and swivels to me, a large smile on her face and at that moment, I know.
I know my wife has done exactly what I told her to do. She has found a man to fill the void that I cannot. My heart thuds in my chest in a painful rhythm and nausea hits the back of my throat. I’m glued to the spot, my face a mask as she speaks, her words are like white noise, all I can hear it’s the buzzing in my ears that tells me I’m free.
So why does it hurt so much? I wanted this. I wanted it so badly that I hounded her for months. I pushed and pushed, shunning her affection and her love, watching the pain fill her eyes every time I did. A yet now that it is done, it hurts, because despite telling Lex I didn’t love her anymore, I do.
I’m just not in love with her anymore. The stroke has changed me and with those physical changes came emotional ones that killed any romantic feelings I had for my wife. What they did not do was kill my love for the woman who was and is my best friend and has been since we met.
“Dean?” she calls. I hear the hesitation in her voice and the guilt. She is a good person, the best I know. I also know that whatever happened last night she will feel guilt over it. I hate that for her, but I’m a selfish bastard and despite not wanting her physically anymore, I can’t let her go. She is my best friend and I need her in my life. I realize that is what caused the pain.
Not pain because she has been intimate with another man, but anguish and fear that she will fall in love and leave me.
“Dean,” she calls again gently, and she leans into me, and I notice it then. Her wedding ring is gone.
“Where is your wedding ring?” I ask as my reply. She straightens, her hand moving behind her back, a guilty flush climbing up her elegant neck.
“I took them off,” she says and turns back to the coffee, giving me
her back. It is then I realize that the chasm I have created between us and regret is a bitter pill to swallow.
I wish that I had been honest with her. That I had been brave enough to be open and tell her, without letting the bitterness that stalks me overpower the man that I was.
“We need to talk,” I tell her.
“I don’t have time, we have a delivery coming in.” Her answer is evasive and part of me wants to reach out to her and soothe her pain. The other half wants to hurt her so that she feels what I feel.
Yes, I am a prick, I asked for this and now I need to fix it before I lose everything that I’ve held dear to me. The prick wins out as he always seems to these days and I lash out at her. “Fine, don’t let the cripple hold you up,” I spit nastily and even as I say the words I hate myself. I hate the man I have become. He should have died, and like every day, I wish that he had.
Without a word, Lex walks from the room and runs up the stairs. The door to her room slams. The silence that is left is deafening and the gap between us is so wide the yawning hole is practically un-breachable.
*~*~*
Mystery Man
The sun is spiking through the curtains when I wake and for a few seconds, I forget where I am. Stretching my arms above my head, I feel the sheet pool around my middle. I’m naked and then a vision of a blue-haired siren hits me. I turn my head and disappointment hits me hard when I find the bed beside me empty.
I touch the sheet and it’s cold. Listening intently, I realize the room is empty, the air still. Sitting up I brush my hands over my tired eyes, a slight hangover lingers in the back of my head making me feel foggy.
What is not foggy is the memory of the woman from last night. I’m not a saint, nor do I pretend to be. I have had my share of one-night stands and mostly enjoyed them, but none ever left before I woke up and they have never left me filled with regret.
It is a new feeling for me and not one I particularly like. Nevertheless, it is there. Regret that I didn’t get her number or even her name. It seemed like a good idea last night—mysterious and erotic. But in the cold, harsh light of day, it was a stupid idea because now I can’t find her, and she is the first woman to hold my interest in years.