by Misti Murphy
“Everyone.” She flapped her arms. “Orion, Birdie, Clo. Hell, my sister, Leo, Tia. We’re all family these days, and it’s not like you and I have been the friendliest of friends as it is. Don’t you think they would notice? When we broke up…” That’s when her gaze finally dropped.
I pressed a finger to her chest where the collar of her shirt parted, and drew it up under her chin, lifting her face. “Since when has our business been theirs? None of them know why we broke up. None of them need to know we’re restarting something.”
“We aren’t restarting anything.”
The hell we weren’t. I smashed my mouth to hers, my hand tangled in her hair, yanking her closer. Ravishing her, I forgot momentarily why I’d grabbed her and got drunk on the taste of her. When she relaxed into me, her fingers crawling up my chest, I broke away. “If you want to lie to yourself, that’s fine. If you want to lie to me, at least make it convincing. Don’t you think I can tell you don’t mean it when you’re all over me?”
“Don’t call me a liar. I’m a lot of things but I’ve never been a liar,” she snapped, getting in my face.
“Careful, sexy legs. You get any closer, I’m going to change my mind about office policy.”
“Don’t fool yourself that last night meant anything,” she hissed between clenched teeth, paying no heed to my warning. “I just needed a dick.”
“Just a dick?” I stared her down, grinding my teeth as I stalked forward, pressing her back until she hit the door. I’d never been just a dick, and I wasn’t about to be one now. Screw that. I’d been the whole fucking enchilada. She hadn’t forgotten how intense things between us had been, or how much she’d belonged with me. Still did. Her wide eyes, the pupils as big as saucers, and the way she panted, slicking her parted lips with her tongue, didn’t just tell me she was wet for me. I cupped the side of her throat, felt her arch into my hold. No. She was fighting tooth and nail against our undeniable link that pervaded every fiber of our being. Her soul craved it as mine did. It was only a matter of time before she lost. It was inevitable. I’d make sure of it. “You like to tell yourself that.”
My palm flat against the wall above her head, I leaned in close, bringing my lips to the spot on her neck below her ear. “But we both know you’re only interested in one dick. You said it yourself last night.”
“What?”
“All this screwing around. You were trying to replace me.” I dragged my palm down her waist, squeezed her hip. “You don’t need to do that anymore. You’ve got the fucking original.”
“You’re an asshole.” She shook her head, snapping each word off between her teeth.
“Am I? Or are you scared I’m right?” I skimmed her neck with my mouth. “That this is exactly what you want.”
“I don’t want you.” Her breath hitched as I slipped a palm up the inside of her shirt, and plucked a bra cup under her nipple, catching it there so my thumb could circle that tight little peak. “I just wanted your dick, but this is a stupid idea. Ridiculous. I can find that elsewhere.”
Coasting a hand between her thighs, I spread them. Her lips were mine. A heady drug I wouldn’t give up willingly. “No one has ever come close to being better than me.” I scraped my thumb over her bottom lip, and her tongue darted out over the blunt tip. Her eyes wide, her breath coming in spurts, she forgot her vehement denial and hooked my thumb into her mouth, sucked on it, and I groaned at the immediate effect on my erection.
“Hands on the wall,” I spun her, pushing her palms against the wood and yanked her skirt up over her hips. She whimpered, and I leaned in, my fingers drifting up the inside of her thigh to yank aside the scant scrap of lace, already damp from how turned on she was, tempting me to take my time exploring the slick lips of her pussy.
She gasped at the invasion of my finger dipping in to caress her most sensitive part. Bracing herself against the wall, she thrust her ass toward me, allowing me access to her clit while she moaned my name. “Please. This isn’t fair.”
“Isn’t fair?” I nipped her lobe, tugged it between my teeth. “Tell me, sexy legs, what about this isn’t to your liking?”
“I don’t want to want you.” She whimpered as I squeezed her hip, lifting her up on tiptoe for better access to the part of her neither of us could deny belonged to me.
Unzipping, I slid my pants and boxers off my hips before stroking the length of my cock against her ass, until she arched, instinct pushing that sweet pussy into position. What wasn’t fair was how much I wanted her back in my life permanently, immediately, and knowing we couldn’t without delving into a world of pain. “I know you don’t, but I’m not going to let you go. You don’t have to fight it.”
I scrounged a condom from my pocket, rolled it over my erection and pounded into her, my hands on her hips keeping her in place while I fucked her. She rocked with each thrust, teetering on tiptoes, her balance reliant on her palms against the wall. Her channel gripped me tightly, embracing my cock and intensifying the rush of sensation each slide created.
Covering her body with mine, when her whimpers turned to low moans, I slowed down. “Close now?”
“So close.”
I dragged in and out of her, my fingers rising to tweak her nipple and tug on the silver bar I loved to wrap my tongue around. Did she remember I bought that particular piece of jewellery? I scraped my palms up her arms, and twined our fingers together, bringing them down in front of her. She turned her head, and I captured her mouth with mine, showing her she belonged with me, even when the words wouldn’t fall into place. She gave as good as she got while I kept the slow, sweet torture going, and when she finally broke the kiss, I could have sworn the words I hate you slipped from her lips before they recaptured mine. Then I fucked her with no other thought than to take us both over the edge. My hand slid between her legs, and I pinched her clit between my thumb and finger, my lips bound to hers to mute her cries as her whole body spasmed with her orgasm. A moment later, I growled with my own release and sagged over her.
“Are we done?” Her voice warbled and cracked, sliding into a sob as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. She trembled under my touch, a violent shiver that struck me hard. If we were anyone else, she would have moved away and started fixing her clothes already, but the pain of loving me was as fresh now as it was the night she left me. Thick in the air, it weighed down on me, and I soaked it up like a sponge.
My chest tightened. Did she really expect I’d just be done with her? When had that ever been an option? I pushed away from the door, giving her space while she yanked and twisted her skirt back into place. No, we weren’t done. Not by a long shot. “Do you really think you can let it go?”
“You did. You left me. Maybe you didn’t walk away, but you were gone. Why are you so hell bent on taking us back there?” She tossed her head, her jaw tense. “I finished it then, I can finish it now. This won’t happen again.”
She yanked at the door handle, but I was faster. Hauling her into my arms, I wrapped her legs around my waist as I claimed her mouth, licking the inside of her cheek and thrusting against her tongue. She whimpered, never satisfied, but it wasn’t sex she needed, though she’d convinced herself for so long it was. My silent promise to fix everything I broke between our lips, I could only hope she still knew me well enough to pick up on it. Every delicious, crazy inch of her stole my heart, kept it captive and I’d damn well give everything to have her remember that.
“Go on. Try and walk away, and while you do, remember this…” I licked along her throat, and tugged several of the buttons on her shirt undone to lave across her breasts. There wasn’t enough time in this moment. A cry ripped from her while I licked over the nipple with my bar in it. She pushed at my shoulders, struggled against me, and I lowered her to the ground, my mouth claiming her ear. “If I’ve licked it, it’s mine.” I gripped her chin tight between my fingers and lowered my lips to her ear. “You got that? Everything my mouth has touched belongs to me.”
"Well it's a good thing you didn't go down on me," she snapped, her eyes watering.
“That’s temporary. Next time you come to me I plan to shove my tongue so far inside you, you’ll never forget how much of you is mine. Not that I need to. Do you think your sweet pussy forgot me?” I caressed the length of her jaw with the callused tips of my fingers. “You know how much I’ve wanted you.”
“Do I?” I could hear her shaky breath, her jack-rabbit pulse thrumming beneath my mouth. “For a night, a week, a month, and then what? We both know how this ends.”
“Do we?” I couldn’t think straight with her right there, the sweet smell of her skin in my nostrils, her body betraying her every word.
Pain slipped across her features, even as she locked her gaze with mine. The beat of my heart pounded in my ears, and then she pulled away, disentangling herself from me. “At some point, you’ll get bored and find someone new to whisper your dirty words to. Then what?”
“That won’t happen.”
“It did happen.”
“No, it fucking didn’t. There wasn’t anyone else.”
She cocked her head to the side, her eyes glazing over. “You say that, but you never tell me why. Not once have you given me a reason to believe you didn’t…” she swallowed, her throat working hard to vomit up the words neither of us wanted to talk about, “…have an affair. It was all there, laid out in ink, and you didn’t refute it.”
“I know that.” I stumbled back, slumping onto the edge of the desk. “But it wasn’t what you think.”
“Then what the hell was it? And why did you let me believe?”
Cancer. It was fucking cancer. How did I put that into words? How did I explain why I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell her? The ramifications had been light in the end. I’d gotten away almost intact, except for losing her and a small part of me that had caused me more doubt than something that size should have been able to.
She patted her hair, then straightened out the hem of her skirt with a flick of her wrist. “Nothing? You tell me you didn’t have an affair but you don’t have anything to say to convince me?” Her eyes pleaded with me, and I choked on my thickening tongue.
“Fine.” She turned her back on me and opened the door. “We’re done. It won’t happen again.”
“You know that’s not true.” Stupid voice re-appearing to say something it shouldn’t, but it was one of those things that bypassed my brain and went straight to my mouth, even when I couldn’t get what I needed to say into words.
“Not going to happen, Mike, so just leave it alone.” She spoke over her shoulder as she walked out on me.
I thumped my fist onto the desk. “Damn it!”
Pushing away from the piece of furniture, I paced around to my chair. The time to tell her had been years ago. Voicing it now would hurt her. There was no way around it. Not if I was going to take back what was mine.
Three years, seven months, twenty-four days ago…
Walking through the sliding glass doors, I glanced up at the sky. Blue. Not a cloud, and the sun dazzled the eyes. I squinted as I stood on the pavement, just staring at that damn blue sky, wondering why it wasn’t raining, when I was caught up, shaken up, and so turned about. Shuffling down the steps, I loosened the tie that hung around my neck like a noose, but even when it was in my hand I still couldn’t breathe.
Speak to your family. That’s what the doctor had said. My hand shook so bad I fumbled my phone as I tried to pull it from my pocket, almost dropping it twice before I could get a proper grip on it. I looked up my contacts, unable to think clearly enough to remember even my own home number. Would the underwater feeling ever ease? Would anything ever be the way it had been before I walked into that appointment? So many damn business contacts filled my phone. My stomach pitched, nausea creeping up my spine, making my chest ache. Speak to your family. Orion, Birdie, Mellie. They were my family. The only ones who meant anything to me, the few who would care if I was gone. Don’t think ahead. You don’t know what tomorrow holds yet. A part of my mind fractured away, clung to reality in a way the rest couldn’t, but it wasn’t enough. Gripping the railing along the side of the steps, I sunk against it and dialled her number.
My knees wobbled, dragging me down to sit on the cold rough concrete as she picked up on the other end. Her bubbly voice, normally enough to brighten any situation, barely dented the thick cottonwool chill.
I mustn’t have said anything. I’d held that damn phone to my ear, her on the other end while my throat worked without saying a single fucking word.
“What’s wrong, Mike? What’s going on?” She slowed down, stumbling over the last words, a wobble in her voice as she trailed off.
Rubbing my palm over my chest did nothing to ease the ache that filled every square inch of me, did nothing to dull the pain that would color her voice if I told her.
“Mike?”
How was I supposed to tell her? How could I tell her I might leave her? She and I were the same. We only had each other. If it was her, if she was the one who might leave me… I would be nothing without her. “Nothing. Everything’s okay, I’ll see you tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Even through the wireless connection, I could hear her swallow, hear the watery inflection.
I scraped a hand over my head and dragged myself to my feet. “Yeah. All good. Love you, sexy legs.”
“Love you more, tiger.”
“I’ll see you tonight.” I hung up the phone, stared at the screen. I’d have to tell her. Tonight. I’d tell her tonight, when I could hold her close and absorb the shock for her. Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I headed back to work.
Chapter Six
Mellie
I shut the door behind me and went back to the bank of filing cabinets in the front office. Chelsea might have been banging those keys a little too hard, but she peeked up when I started slamming cabinet doors, the metal constructions creaking and rattling with each impact.
“You okay?”
“Dandy. Fucking fabulous.”
“Don’t damage the filing cabinets.”
Smart ass. “Stop murdering the keyboard.”
“What?” She screwed up her brow and glanced down at the keyboard. “Oh. Sorry.”
Her typing quieted down, and I took a deep breath and decided to stop slamming doors. “Sorry, Chelsea. I’m having a bit of a tough week. Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Her brow furrowed and she glanced at her bag, which was erupting with Taylor swift’s ‘Shake it off.’ She shuffled through the oversized black leather purse to find it. “I’m okay.” Glancing at the screen, she rose. “I better take this.”
Turning back to the pile, I began putting the files away again. There was no satisfaction in the slow squeak of the drawers, but all the slamming and banging wasn’t helping either of us. No matter how many doors I slammed, I’d opened the wrong fucking door last night with Mike.
Huge bloody mistake. It would have been smarter to climb into a nest full of fire ants. At least that itch could be soothed with salve. In fact, if I could find a fire ant nest maybe it wouldn’t hurt to roll around on it now. At least it would be a distraction. Going back to my desk, I thumbed through the closest stack of papers.
When he’d dropped me home last night I’d felt, well I don’t know how I’d felt, but it hadn’t been this uptight, this melancholy-laden choke hold on my lungs. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he’d used me up and left me sated, or that he’d held me for brief moments in between, the way he used to. I’d lied to him, sure, but I couldn’t lie to myself.
The prickle of everything we’d been, the memories of our time together floated just under the surface. Too close. Would I ever be able to push him away, or would he always have this ability to make me need to be his? Sleep had eluded me last night, my mind arguing with itself until it felt like I’d developed a split personality. He and I had been perfect together, hadn’t we? From the first day he told me I was his, right up unti
l that Christmas almost four years ago. Then things had changed, slowly at first. I’d known he was hiding something. I could see it in his eyes, when he thought I didn’t see him watching me. The guilt he wore like cologne. His subtle withdrawal, the tenseness in his arms whenever he held me. Small things turned into bigger things. Longer hours at work, and then nights where he didn’t come home at all.
I’d seen the signs before, in my father, before I walked into his office a week after Lola’s disappearance and found him with his pants around his ankles, his dick in his secretary. After he’d left, my mother had fallen apart. She’d introduced me to whisky in my coffee, vodka in my orange juice, all topped off with an, It’s five o’clock somewhere policy when it came to wine. I’d learned two important lessons from them; the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and no man was worth drinking yourself into oblivion over.
I’d put that all behind me for Mike. I hadn’t needed anyone else. He’d shown me life didn’t need to be like that. I’d been his entire world, until I wasn’t. Until he’d stopped wanting me, then we’d hurt each other more than any two people should.
I’d woken up this morning, ready to call him, wanting to tell him it didn’t matter that we’d fucked it up so badly. My finger had hovered over his number. The words ready on my tongue, to turn back the clock. The need to be his was hardwired into every cell of my body, expanding to fill me with only one desire. To pack my bags like I had that first night so long ago and go home to him. But could I let him back in, let him make me feel wanted again, until he no longer wanted me? Or was it all sentimental bullshit? If I gave in to the need, would he eventually change his mind again and be done with me? This time for good?
I frowned and chewed my lip. There was a desperation in the way he came after me. A tenderness in his gaze that belied his roughness. Had it ever left, or had I been ignoring it all this time? He was still guarding himself, still hiding something. I’d been so certain back then that he’d had an affair. I’d held onto that like a lifeline, needing to believe I hadn’t destroyed our relationship entirely on my own. Clasping to it to keep him at arm’s length, to keep myself from wanting something I could never have again.