My Time in the Affair

by Stylo Fantome

  “Always.”

  She felt like she was going to burst. He seemed so calm and collected. Like it was all a movie he'd already seen the ending to, but she had no clue what was going to happen next.

  “I wish I was here longer, I wish we could catch up more. I have so much to tell you, and I want to hear everything that's -,” she began rambling again.

  “Mischa,” Tal said her name in a loud, sharp voice, startling her.

  “What?” she asked, watching him as he walked towards her.

  “I want to hear everything you have to say,” he assured her.

  “You do?”

  “And we'll catch up, believe me.”

  “We will?”

  “Yes, because we'll have plenty of time to do it in.”

  “Huh?”

  “You're not going anywhere,” he informed her.

  “I'm not?”

  “No. You're home now. With me. Where you should have been this whole time,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her. She sniffled. Tried not to cry.

  Seems like I never cry as much as I do when I'm with him.

  “You want me to stay?” she asked in a small voice. He laughed and cupped her face.

  “Baby, I never wanted you to leave. Of course I want you stay. I never want you to leave again,” he told her.

  “You're not mad at me? Cause I left?” she double checked, a tear slipping out of her right eye. He playfully shook her head.

  “I'm furious. It's been three months since I've had sex, woman! Three months! Do you know how long that is in man-time!? You have a lot to make up for,” he warned her. She laughed as well, the tears falling in earnest.

  “I was so worried. So scared too much time had passed, that it had all been in my head,” she cried. “So many things. Worried you'd found someone else, or that you'd be over us.”

  “Mischa, there is no one else but you, and I don't think I'll ever be over us. I told you – it's love,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Stay with me. I got this place for you, so you could come outside every morning and look at the place that brought us together. Where we found each other. Where we came back together. Stay with me.”

  Not “come find me”, not anymore.

  Now “stay with me”.

  How could a woman, who cheated on her husband, possibly deserve that kind of happiness?

  *

  When Mischa had decided to hunt him down halfway across the world, she hadn't really been sure of what to expect. She certainly had never imagined she would immediately move in with Tal. Straight from her hotel to his place – he actually went and collected her stuff. She missed her flight, and she didn't even care.

  At first, she'd seriously wondered if it would work between them. Their relationship had been started on lies. She had cheated on her husband. Tal had lied to her the entire time. Not good building materials. Beyond that, his apartment was almost unbearably small, around six hundred square feet. Tiny. She felt like she was living in a dorm room.

  She learned to love it. A smaller space meant they were always together. And the screwed up beginning to their relationship actually reenforced its strength. They had already seen each other at their worst, had already shared their worst secrets with each other. They had done what was wrong. Now they knew how to do it right.

  Her family came to visit. Her mother was still cold towards her, so Misch wasn't expecting much, but Tal made quick work of the ice queen. He didn't give Mrs. Duggard a chance to not like him. When they picked them up at the airport, he simply grabbed the tiny woman in a bear hug, actually lifting her off the ground. Then he let his silver tongue go to work, and by the end of the trip, Mischa was pretty sure her mom was more than a little in love with him.

  And of course her father loved him. Mischa was an only child – she got the feeling that Tal was a little like the son her dad had never gotten to have. The two would sit out on the terrace for hours, talking about baseball and basketball and football. Anything with a ball. It made her happy. Two parts of her life, fitting so seamlessly together. Her dad was also fascinated by Tal's life, by his secretive job, and loved hearing all the stories.

  Tal's job was still crazy. He didn't work at the Vatican for long. Soon, he was back “in the field”, back doing missions with Ruiz. He tried to stay in Rome as much as possible, and tried to keep his time away brief, but still, it wasn't easy. One time he came home with a bullet hole in his bicep. That had almost ended it. Mischa nearly lost her damn mind, and a screaming match to end all screaming matches broke out between them.

  But oh, wow, the makeup sex had almost been worth it.

  After that, they reached a compromise. If he took an out of country job, he had to take her with him. She'd gotten a job at a dance studio, and her hours were flexible, so it was easy enough for her to sneak off, and it made him think twice about what jobs he accepted. It worked out beautifully. In the eight months they'd been together, Misch got to see France, Norway, Mongolia, Nepal, and South Korea.

  Though nothing compared to spending every day with him. And nothing at all to spending every night with him.

  After Tal scared away the over-eager gentleman who kept trying to get Misch to go out with him – seriously, a breakfast date!? – they sat down together. She'd been waiting for him to get off work. They ordered real drinks and chatted about their days before heading out.

  “How am I so lucky?” Mischa asked as they walked away from the cafe, holding hands while they strolled along. Tal smiled.

  “I have the same thought, all the time. I told you, fate. What a mother fucker.”

  “You're such a romantic.”

  “Only the best for you. Can we go home and get naked now?”

  “No, I have plans for us.”

  Misch surprised him by picking up the pace, yanking him down the street.

  “What are we doing? I was planning on deviant sex,” he complained, following behind her as she led the way down a side street.

  “You can have that any time. Can you hear the music? There's a big festival going on,” she told him. She felt his hands slide over her hips, then he was pulling her back against him, even as they were walking.

  “Any time, huh …,” he focused on the pertinent part of her statement.

  A band was playing in a square, with speakers, and people were dancing and laughing. She'd been surprised to learn that Tal was actually a pretty good dancer – he'd made mention of her dancing, all the time, but had never mentioned that he had some rhythm of his own. Now every opportunity she had, she danced with him.

  She always wanted to be dancing with him.

  “This wasn't exactly what I had in mind for tonight,” Tal laughed an hour later, when he finally convinced her to take a break. He led her away from the crowds, over to a bench nestled in some hedges.

  “What did you have in mind?” she panted, still moving her hips and feet to the beat as she stood next to him.

  “Something sexier,” he replied, sitting down.

  “Pffft,” she snorted, rolling her body, “my dancing is pretty goddamn sexy.” He yanked on her hand, pulling her into his lap.

  “So, dancer lady,” he started, helping her to get comfortable on top of him.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Exceedingly.”

  “Do you know what today is?” he continued with the questions.

  “Tuesday,” she replied.

  “Duh. I meant, what today is. Like as in something special,” Tal continued. Misch scrunched up her nose, confused.

  “Uh …,” she tried to think of what holiday was being celebrated. He snorted at her.

  “You dork, today marks one year since the day you came to Italy,” he almost snapped at her. She sat up straighter.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Like the day we met?”

  “No, like the day you got off the plane.”

  Mischa thought back. Over the winter.
Last summer. So many moments.

  “Wow, I'd completely forgotten,” she gave a small laugh, staring off into the distance. “How'd you remember?”

  “I was there,” he replied in a soft voice, then she felt him kissing her bare shoulder. She glanced down at him.

  “You were?” she was surprised. After they'd decided they were going to seriously make a go at having a real relationship, they established early on that nothing was off limits, and Mischa had asked lots of questions. But that had never come up.

  “Mmmm hmmm. I wasn't supposed to be, either, I was supposed to be making sure all the equipment at the hotel was running smoothly. But something … I don't know, something made me go see you. I'd seen your pictures. I wanted to see you in person. You walked right by me,” he explained, smoothing one of his hands over her arm. She smiled down at him.

  “I didn't notice.”

  “Big surprise. You have the situational awareness of a manatee.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I was there. I watched you. I thought to myself 'I'm going to talk to her', so I remember that day very well. It was the day we started,” he finished.

  “Oh please, you just wanted to get in my pants,” she teased.

  “Very true. Pity I couldn't get rid of you after that.”

  “Hey!”

  Mischa would have given another smart-ass response, but her mouth was suddenly indisposed, mainly dealing with his tongue. He kissed her hard, and aggressively, one of his hands moving to hold the back of her head. She moaned against his lips, kissing him back.

  “So a year later – are you happy?” he asked her again, moving to kiss down the edge of her jaw.

  “More than I've ever been in my entire life,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair.

  “Any regrets?”

  “That I didn't find you sooner.”

  “Good girl, good answer.”

  His tongue was back in her mouth, his fingers were pulling at her hair, and his free hand was working its way up her thigh. Misch knew it was grossly inappropriate – they were in public and were behaving like horny teenagers. But that's just how they were, and she hoped they would never change. She was still drunk on his love, high on his love, and she never wanted to come down.

  Though she wasn't so drunk that she didn't notice his hand moving underneath her skirt.

  “Tal,” she panted, grabbing at his wrist at the same time his fingers curled around the top of her underwear. He ignored her and began pulling at the material.

  “Why you wear these is beyond me. How many pairs have you lost since you moved in with me?” he commented, tracing his tongue over her pulse. She shivered and he used the movement to his advantage, pulling her panties over her hips.

  “Too many. We are in public, stop it!” she hissed, pressing her butt down harder against his leg, trying to hold the material in place.

  “Do you think I care?”

  It was too late, anyway, he'd gotten them too far. Plus, resisting him just meant his hand would stay up her skirt longer. Mischa finally let go of his wrist and he immediately dragged the underwear over her knees. She glanced around nervously, slipping her legs free.

  “There, satisfied!? We're gonna get arrested one day, I swear, I -, ACK!” she was startled when he abruptly stood up, dumping her off of his lap. She stumbled, then panicked, scrambling to hold her short skirt in place over her ass.

  “Want these back?” Tal asked, giving her a sly smile as he dangled her underwear in front of her face. She turned ten different shades of red and tried to snatch the material from him. He pulled away and her panties disappeared into his pocket.

  “This isn't a game, Tal,” she used her best no-nonsense voice. He stepped up close to her, completely invading her space, pressing his chest against hers. She held her breath, lost in his gaze for a moment.

  “Baby, you are the funnest game I've ever played,” he said, right before he kissed her again.

  Mischa was just starting to get lost in his touch when he pulled away. Pulled away so quickly, she stumbled forward. He smacked her on the ass, hard. Hard enough that she fell into the stumble even more, tripping a few feet into the crowd.

  She was glaring when she turned around, but Tal was nowhere to be seen. Usually his height alone ensured that he could be spotted in a crowd, but she didn't see his wavy hair bobbing along above everyone else. She turned in a circle, trying to figure out which way he'd gone.

  “Tal?” she said his name softly at first. Then louder. Angry. “Tal!”

  Mischa shoved her way through the crowd for a couple minutes, but the more she looked, the more obvious it was that she was alone. He'd kissed her stupid, stolen her panties, then ditched her.

  How can I be in love with such an annoying man!?

  Right then, her back pocket began to vibrate. She sighed and pulled her phone out, preparing herself for some sort of smart ass comment, or him laughing at how easy she was to evade, or some other stupid secret agent kind of talk.

  But he wasn't calling. It was a text message. She smiled at the screen. Then laughed. Then smiled again, trying not to tear up. One year. She couldn't believe that it had been one year since she'd first come to Italy.

  One year since a dirty man who kissed good had spied on her in an airport, and decided he would talk to her.

  One year since she'd decided to become a horrible person and cheat on her husband.

  She stared at her phone, cradling it in her hands.

  Come find me.

  Acknowledgments

  So many people, so little end matter.

  First and foremost, to the ladies in the street team. Always. You are everything.

  Next – to Ella Fox. Before I ever “met” her, I read a blog post that she did, and it was about how she wrote a book thinking/knowing it wouldn't be well received, but she just had to write it anyway (it turned into a smash success). How brave. Then I joined a word count group in January of 2015, and who created it? Ella Fox. I was hitting writer's block hard, and I saw an encouraging post from her, then thought of her blog post, and I'd had this idea knocking around my head for a while (“I can't write a cheating book, I'll be crucified, romance readers hate cheating!”), so I thought - “fuck it. Maybe everyone will hate it. But at least I wrote what was in me to write”, and two weeks later I had 80,000 words and a rough draft titled “An Affair”. So, thank you, Ms. Fox, for your thoughtful words, and the way you encourage and support all those around you.

  Thanks to T.M. Frazier, for her beautiful personality and wonderful support, which she gives without thought to herself. A rarity in the word in general, and in this community in particular. I appreciate you more than you know.

  To my beta readers! Deeeeep breath – Angie, Sue, Shannon, Rebeka, Letty, Beatriz, Bets, Rebecca, Lheanne, Ange. Your feedback helped more than words can say. And big thanks to Ratula! Eight million messages later, and we have an epilogue, and a lot of fixed typos. Your effort on this story was monumental and tireless and almost equaled my own. Thank you.

  To Najla at Najla Qamber Designs – you never fail to sort through my semi-insane babble and come up with magic and art. This cover is everything, in my humble opinion. I love it so much more than anything I could've imagined on my own. Thank you for you talent and vision and patience.

  To all the authors I've met on this incredible journey, your support and words of encouragement mean more than anything. Having the approval, and even better, the friendship, of your peers means the world.

  To the people I've never met but talk to all the time, Rebeka, L.A. Cotton, Barbara Shane Hoover, and especially Jo. You let me bitch, whine, complain, vent, be crazy. You keep me sane. Thank you.

  To the blogs. BLOGS. ARE. EVERYTHING. This is not kissing ass, this is FACT. Blogs change lives. Thank you to Yaya and the After Dark Book Lovers, for “getting me”, and letting me be mean. Thank you to Milasy and The Rock Stars of Romance, for being bigger rock stars than any of us could hope to be.
To Jessie – in case I didn't say it today, YOU'RE PRETTY. To Christine and Shh Mom's Reading, for always taking care of me during my reveals and tours and releases and just generally being the sweetest person I know. To Nina and The Literary Gossip, for your videos and posts and laughter. To ALL the Cover to Cover girls. To Deanna and her amazing reviews and graphics. To any blog that has ever posted for me, promoted for me, read for me, reviewed for me, ever. You made it possible for me to get this far. You make it possible for me to keep going. To any blog out there ever, that has ever supported their fave author, regardless of whether or not they've read me. Thank you for taking time out of your day to support what you love.

  To any person ever that has shared something of mine, recommended my books, messaged me, fallen in love with the devil and Sanders, or maybe just now fell in love with Tal. You make it possible for me to keep doing this.

  And last but most certainly not least, my husband. Writing erotica is already somewhat interesting for a married couple - “I read your wife's book! WOW! I never knew you guys were so freaky!” - so I know this book will bring its own lovely comments and assumptions. Thank you for understanding me and always letting me be me. Even when that means I wear pajamas and a headband ALL weekend. And thank you for bringing me waffles in bed.

  Soundtrack

  Songs that I listened to while writing, songs that just made me think of the story, and a couple that inspired actual scenes.

  I Adore U – Adore Delano

  Grown Woman – Beyonce

  Lips Are Movin' – Meghan Trainor

  Pretty Woman – Roy Orbison

  Do I Wanna Know - Chvrches

  Seaside – The Kooks

  Love Somebody – Maroon 5

  Can't Stop – Red Hot Chili Peppers

  Firework – Katy Perry

  Stay With Me – Sam Smith

  We Found Love – Calvin Harris ft. Rihanna

  Safe and Sound – Capital Cities

  Paralyzed – Mystery Skullz

  I Bet My Life – Imagine Dragons

  Everything – Alanis Morissette