He’s looking at a thicket of trees across the road, his eyes searching the underbrush. He seems to be lost in thought. Or maybe his memories. I stand still for a moment, taking him in, my heart fluttering and feeling as if it is going to burst out of my chest any second. I shudder as I imagine those hands of his running over my body, that face with its five o’clock shadow scratching against mine, those arms cradling me and holding me tight.
Maybe Sarah’s right. Maybe it’s been too long since I’ve felt the touch of another human being. Didn’t I deserve a little happiness? A little pleasure?
With a deep breath, I set off across the parking lot.
6.
Sean
I hear her when she’s about ten feet away. It takes a moment for the sound of her feet on the gravel to register over the humming of my bike. Then too, I’m lost in my thoughts. Since leaving Parsons in the morning, I’ve done nothing but drive around, trying to get my head straight. $150 million? I’m worth $150 million?
But that’s what’s given me pause all day. It’s the fact that my father, after vehemently and repeatedly disowning me, still thought of me to his dying day, still wanted me to have the world, still wanted me to be part of the Hartwood legacy.
Who was my old man? Did I even know him? How could I? He never let me.
When I look over at Sam, she’s smiling timidly and gazing at the ground. Seeing her again makes everything that has happened since I was last here drip away. For a moment I feel just as I did back when I was nothing but a dumb teen—my breath catches in my chest. She’s like a fresh flower in the middle of a barren field.
She looks up after a moment. I’m still staring at her, thinking about the past. Ever so slowly, remembering who I am now, I let my eyes fall down her body. She blushes harder and scrapes the ground with the heel of her shoe.
“Hi, Luke,” she whispers, so low it almost gets lost under the hum of the bike. I’m about to correct her when I catch myself. That’s right. I told her I was Luke. But why? What do I have to hide? After the morning with Parsons, for the first time in a long while I don’t want to be the person I’ve been for the last ten years. I’m tired of running, tired of not giving my real self to people.
I don’t answer as I lose myself in my thoughts. Did I tell her a fake name because I want revenge, or because I’m scared of the past? In the diner, all I could think about was fucking her. It seemed like a way to make the pain I obviously still felt go away. It seemed the perfect irony. But the way she looks at me—I would have killed for this look ten years ago. Ten years ago though she never would have given me this look. I was below her, just a pawn who fawned over her and gave her whatever she wanted. She used me because it was easy and because I was pathetic.
That’s not all. If I’m being honest with myself, the other part of me was—and is—scared that once she found out who I was, that look in her eye that’s there now, that one of desire, would drip away and leave nothing behind but disdain. And then too I just can’t shake the anger that wells up in me when I think of the past. Is Sam the same woman she was then?
“Get on,” I say, shaking my head to dispel my thoughts. No time for that now. No use worrying either.
I don’t say anything else, just wait silently as Sam hesitates and then climbs onto the bike behind me. Her thighs squeeze my hips and her arms slide around my torso. Her touch is like fire, burning away all the layers of the years between who we are and who we had been.
When she’s settled, I hit the gas and we shoot off into the street. She yelps and holds me tighter.
We coast down the long, straight road leading away from the diner, the bike kicking up the loose bits of gravel on the asphalt. Trees zip by on either side, the road rising and falling with the gentle hills.
“Turn left up there!” she yells.
She gives me the directions to her house piece by piece. Along the way, we pass by her old house, the house I remember from high school. It doesn’t look much different than I remember it. It’s obvious no one lives there now—the windows are boarded and the front porch sags. A sapling is growing in the driveway.
“I used to live there,” she shouts. I nod and turn my face away from her to hide the smile. If only she knew!
It doesn’t take long to get to where she’s leading us. Her house is on the edge of town, far back from the county road it’s located on. When we turn onto her dirt driveway, I can’t see any sign of it. I navigate slowly through the puddles of mud and ruts filled with water. The trees press in on either side of us. They’re so thick they block out the sun.
Her house—trailer, actually—comes into view about a hundred feet in. It’s small, almost pathetically so, no longer than fifty feet and no wider than fifteen. There’s a haphazard, open, half-built garage attached to one side of it, the walls lined with junk wood and old rusted car parts.
“It’s not much,” Sam hurriedly explains when I pull to a stop at the end of the driveway. I can tell she’s worried what I might think. She climbs off the bike, her hands lingering on my stomach as long as they can. “But it’s home.”
I turn the bike off and swing my leg over. Sam is staring at me anxiously.
“Cute,” I say, giving her a slight smile. Her unsure face breaks into a grin.
“Come on,” she says, much happier, “Let me give you a tour. It won’t take long.”
***
The house is different than I expect. There’s an air of sadness about it, a blanket laid over the entire place. I get the feeling Sam hasn’t had too many happy memories here.
Inside, after a short walk around the perimeter of the house, Sam takes me from one end of the trailer to the other. Though it’s obvious someone lives here, it doesn’t look much like a home. There are cardboard boxes taped up and scattered about; the walls are blank; a layer of dust rests on every surface.
“Sorry about the mess,” Sam mumbles, watching me intently as I take it all in. I move from the kitchen into the living room and then down a short hallway to the bedroom. Sam trails behind me as I move along, not saying anything. In her bedroom, I stop in front of a collage of pictures hung up on the wall, the only adornment in the entire place. Of the ten or so pictures, only one contains a man. At first I don’t realize who I’m looking at, then with a start give a chuckle.
“Who’s that?” I ask, pointing at the man in the picture. I don’t have to ask, because I already know. Will she make the connection?
“Oh, him?” She waves her hand dismissively. “Just an old friend. Sean Hartwood. I haven’t seen him in ten years.”
“Did you like him?”
She shrugs.
“I guess. He was nice. A little boring.”
“Don’t dismiss the boring ones,” I say, turning to face her. “You never know who they might turn into.”
The world is silent as we stare into one another’s eyes. Uncertainty flashes across Sam’s face and disappears just as quickly. I want to laugh, want to shake her, want to hold the picture up and put my face next to it. That’s me, I want to yell, the man you thought was really boring. That’s the same man standing in front of you now, the same man you are aching to touch.
The irony of it is delicious. Even so, I am surprised by my reaction. Something primal reared up inside of me when she described the old Sean. I want her to know just how much I have changed, want her to know exactly what she missed out on staying in this Podunk town. I want to ravage her, to take her like no man has ever taken her. That’ll show her boring.
And I want revenge for the old Sean too. Memories of the past, of the ways in which she strung me along flash through my mind. I want to do the same to her, want her to know that you can’t shit on other people and expect to never get it back.
The silence in the room swells and envelops us. A cloud passes over the sun and the room dims. All that can be heard is the sound of our breathing. Sam shifts, looks at me, and looks away just as quickly, blushing. She has no idea what I’m thinking, no idea the con
flicting thoughts swirling through my mind. I want her and then I don’t. I want her to want me. I want to crush her too. But I also want to love her like I’d always dreamed of doing. What’s right? What’s wrong? Does it even matter?
Before I can stop myself, I’ve grabbed Sam by her hip and yanked her towards me. She does not resist. I entwine my hand in her hair at the base of her neck and bend her face up towards mine. In a second, our lips are pressed roughly together.
Whatever else may happen, she’s mine now.
7.
Sam
It is so unexpected for a moment I’m frozen as he wraps me in his arms. Then, as his tongue pushes between my lips, my body thaws and I begin to kiss him greedily back, my palms flat against his muscular chest. In an instant, I’m bowled over by desire. I want him. Want him so badly it hurts. This is exactly what I need.
He pushes me backwards towards the bed one step at a time, his hulking frame impossible to resist. I feel so powerless yet so safe in his arms. This is a feeling I’ve missed.
At the edge of the bed he stops and begins to fumble with my clothes. I reach down to stop him, but he growls and pushes my hands away. He rips open my blouse in one fluid motion, the buttons popping off and scattering on the fake hardwood floor. He takes a step back to admire my chest. I’m wearing the only clean bra I could find this morning, a black lacy affair I bought way back when for use on special occasions. Funnily enough, today is the only time I’ve worn it. You don’t get many special occasions around here.
Satisfied with what he sees, Luke pulls my ripped shirt from my shoulders and tosses it aside. As one hand slides behind my back and pops open my bra, the other reaches down and unbuttons and unzips my pants. Before I know it, he’s pushed them off of my hips and his hand is sliding up between my thighs. I groan and collapse against him, unable to put up even the slightest modicum of resistance. It’s just been too long.
He pulls the straps of my bra from my shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. Suddenly, an alarm bell begins to go off in my head. It’s telling me to slow down. I’ve never done anything like this before, never gone straight to the down and dirty mere moments after meeting a man. A part of me is almost offended. Doesn’t he know he has to treat me like a lady before I sleep with him?, it wants to yell. But there’s another part of me, a stronger part. And this part wants him to take me, wants to release myself to him, to submit to his desires.
While I’m debating in my mind, Luke’s hands are busy running up and down my body. He flips me around and pulls me into him, his chest against my back. He works his way up my neck with kisses, his fingers playing over my nipples through my bra. His touch sends bolts of pleasure coursing through me, pleasure that’s been gone so long I almost don’t remember what it could feel like.
He reaches down and I hear him unbuckle his belt and rip it off. My hands are behind my head, my fingers clasping at his short hair. He pushes his pants off his hips; I feel his underwear come down too. His cock is hard and pressing against my lower back. I can feel the ridge of his head on my skin and the pre-cum leaking out of him.
“Wait…” I groan as he slides his fingertips underneath the waistband of my thong and makes to rip it down. My sensibilities are getting the best of me. This feels so wrong and yet so right. I’m not sure what I want. Is this it?
He pauses for only a moment before ripping my panties down to my knees. He pushes his body against mine until I fall forward, my hands planted on the bed. His hands close about my hips and he raises me onto my tippy toes, his cock sliding between my thighs. Damn, he’s big. I’ve never had anyone this large. Just eyeing it is enough to make me swallow heavily. Can my tiny frame fit such a monster?
I don’t have much time to debate the issue. He slides his cock back and forth a few times across my slit, spreading my juices up and down his shaft. I’m soaking wet. Have been all day, ever since I first laid eyes on him.
Soon my lips are relaxed and spread open. With a growl he aligns his cockhead with my hole, my hole that hasn’t been touched in who knows how long, tightens his grip on my hips, and pulls me backwards onto him. I gasp as he fills me with one long stroke. He’s big enough that it’s almost painful.
“Oh, Luke…” I groan, my knees quivering. I still can’t believe I’m doing this.
He begins to pump, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, with each stroke his cock slicing deeper. In less than a minute, he’s pounding me hard, my pussy squelching as he glides in and out. My knees are shaking; it feels so fucking good that I can feel the orgasm welling up already. I’m surprised; I’ve never been one to get off quick. But with someone like Luke…
Releasing my hips, Luke bends forward and wraps his arms around my torso and pulls me up with him as he straightens. He pushes me forward with his body, his hips never slowing, until I am forced to climb onto the bed on my knees. With one arm around my chest, his thumb and forefinger working my tender, hardened nipple, his other hand snakes up my neck and grips my chin. He turns my face to his and holds me tightly to him, his hips slamming into my ass, pounding me faster and faster and faster.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I scream. An orgasm explodes inside of me, every muscle in my body contracting as I come. My breast jiggles uncontrollably in his hand. I let my head fall back against his shoulder as his hand squeezes my throat.
Even through my pleasure, I can feel the orgasm building inside of him. Is he going to pull out? I don’t want him to. I want to feel him fill me, want him to make me his.
“Please…” I gasp, quivering, my hands scrabbling at his hips. “Please!”
My back is arched, my hips tilted. I can feel my pussy clenching rhythmically around his thick shaft. His hand is squeezing my throat so tight I almost can’t breathe. I’ve never felt so powerless before, so helpless. And I want more.
As my pussy sucks at his shaft, I feel his cock twitch and then all at once a hot bolt of comes shoots up into me. I gasp and shiver, my orgasm redoubling as he empties himself into me, filling me to the brim. There’s so much semen it begins to drip out from between my lips. It’s warm and wet and slick and feels so good sliding down my thighs.
We come together for a full minute before Luke’s hips finally start to slow and his grip around my throat relaxes. Another few seconds and now we’re completely still, the house quiet but for the sounds of our heaving chests. Our bodies are sweaty and slick against one another; I can feel his heartbeat on my back.
“Wow,” I murmur, relaxing into Luke’s strong arms. His cock is softening inside of me. I’m pleased, both for myself and for pleasing him. There’s a glow around us that I’ve been missing for too long, so long that I’d forgotten that it existed.
This is what being married should be like, girl.
The thought snaps me back to reality. I am married. To someone other than Luke. And regardless of how unhappy that marriage is, I’ve just fucked another man in my husband’s bed. I cheated, and neither man knows.
What’s most surprising is that, though I should feel guilty, I don’t. Probably a good choice, actually. Why?
Because I know this won’t be the last time. Not by a long shot.
8.
Sean
When we’re done fucking we fall onto the bed and don’t say a word for a long while. I close my eyes, my mind full of all sorts of thoughts and feelings I can’t even begin to sort. The only thing that stands out is a feeling of success, of completion. After all these years, I’ve finally fucked THE Sam Atley. After all those pathetic years of pining, in the end she was just like any other woman I’ve bedded.
Or is she?
I look over at her. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is even once more. She’s lying on her back, her chest rising and falling gently. Her nipples are hard and the skin of her breasts is flushed. There’s a slight smile on her lips, one of satisfaction. I get the feeling, just by looking at her, that she hasn’t been fucked in a long time.
She must be able to feel me staring b
ecause her eyes flutter open and she glances over at me. Before I can stop myself, I smile.
Dammit, Sean, stop it! Don’t get attached. You’re turning into the same bitch you were ten years ago. Get ahold of yourself. Remember, she treated you like shit. Just because she’s sad and lonely now doesn’t excuse her behavior.
But I don’t hear the voice pleading with me in my head. Instead, I’m too busy pushing myself up onto an elbow and leaning over her and putting my lips to hers. We kiss, gently this time, our tongues tentatively exploring one another’s mouths. I caress her bared body from thigh to neck with my fingertips, tracing out highways on her creamy, white skin. The smell of her—not of her sex but of HER—is intoxicating.
I snort and she pushes me away from her to look at me questioningly, her eyes full of tenderness and need.
“What?” she asks almost defensively. “Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, pulling her back into me. The last thing I want to do is confess that I was thinking of something I’d read in a magazine somewhere, something about how humans find each other’s smells attractive based on compatible immune systems. Just thinking about it, and then thinking about how I am supposed to be a big badass renegate in her mind, cracks me up. I do have to be careful, though. I don’t want to open up my heart to be stomped. Not again.
Plus, now that you’re loaded, you have to be careful. Any woman, especially one who lives in a bumfuck place like this, is going to be after your money.
The thought catches me by surprise but I don’t push it away. I’m right. I do need to be careful. For the first time in my life I don’t have to worry about money and probably never will again.
Hard Choices: An Erotic Romance Page 3