Never Again

by Lilliana Anderson

  “Holy shit,” I gasped, laughing because I’d never felt so good. “That was…” I shook my head, not even sure what I could say to do that experience justice.

  He just laughed and kissed me again. “I know.” Then, much to my dismay, he withdrew from my body and started to remove the condom. “How’s your head?”

  “It’s fine. But I think I drew blood on your arm.”

  Tying a knot in the end of the latex sheath, he glanced at the crescent-shaped wounds on his bicep I’d inflicted with my nails and shrugged. “That’s nothing compared to the marks I gave you.” He gestured toward my chest and I spotted a rather large hickey making an appearance on my right breast.

  “No low-cut tops for me.”

  He grinned. “Give me ten minutes.” He leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to my lips. Then he headed for the bathroom.

  Ten minutes for what? A shower? To go to the toilet? I hoped he wasn’t planning on taking a dump in there. Because if he was, I was out of here. I didn’t sign up for anything more than pure sex and fun.

  I heard the bin open and close, then the sound of running water that only lasted a moment. Seconds later, he returned to the room and flopped on the bed, still naked. Everything he did took less than three minutes. What were the other seven for?

  “Ten minutes for what?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  He’d stretched his long arms above his head and had them folded behind his head. His left leg was bent at the knee, slouching to the side and giving me an unfettered view of that beautiful cock. Even at half-mast it was impressive. I licked my lips as my eyes dragged over his tall, muscular form. I was still sated and sore, but I was fairly sure I could do it all again. Blame it on my limited experience, but I’d never wanted a man that much.

  Turning his head my way, he grinned as his eyes seemed to do the same thing to me. “Round two. But, if you’re going to keep looking at me like that, I could probably be persuaded to go a little sooner.” His cock lifted, growing harder.

  “Round two?” I squirmed where I sat. Yes. I definitely wanted round two.

  “Unless you’re done?”

  I got off the desk and walked to the bed, trying to move as sexy as possible, which wasn’t hard, because he made me feel like the goddess of lust. “The only thing I’m done with are these heels.” I kicked them off, and before I could climb on the bed, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me over him, flipping us so he was on top of me, one leg in between mine, his arms caged around my torso.

  “Good. Because this time”—he dipped his head and brushed his lips along my collarbone, nipping my skin at the suprasternal notch—“I want to go slow.” He pushed up on his hands and ran his tongue down my cleavage until he reached my belly button and licked in an unhurried circle. “Excruciatingly slow. You’ll be begging me to let you come.”

  My breathing picked up. “You want me to beg?”

  “I want to torture this luscious body of yours in the sweetest way possible.”

  I pulled at my lip with my teeth. That was a kind of torture I’d never known, but could totally agree to. “Do your worst,” I challenged.

  He settled himself between my legs and flicked his tongue over my clit, feather soft. “How about I do my best?”

  My head rolled back into the soft pillow.

  His best?

  I was already ruined. God help me if his best was yet to come. I might not leave this bed.

  5

  I awoke sometime before dawn, my body delectably achy from the workout it had been given only hours before. Green-eyes was passed out beside me, sleeping soundly. The lights from the city illuminated the room just enough that I could make out the handsome features of his face. I felt like I should have woken him, spoken to him. I still didn’t know his name, didn’t know a single thing about him besides the fact that he was the kind of guy who pre-booked a hotel room and fucked like a demon. But after studying him for a while, I decided that I didn’t want that. I’d done exactly what I’d set out to do—I’d slept with someone so beautiful I could die, and I felt more alive inside than I had in all the years I’d spent waiting for Jack to marry me. I didn’t need to try and make it anything more than what it was.

  Sliding from the bed, I padded softly about the room, collecting my things before heading for the bathroom where I quickly cleaned myself up and put my clothes back on. His toiletries were set up on the bench, so I picked up his cologne and took off the cap, scenting the fragrance. It smelled like a fresh breeze on an autumn day: subtle, earthy, manly. It was my new favourite scent. After a short internal debate, I wedged the bottle between my breasts, deciding I wanted a keepsake from my first night as a new woman. I didn’t know if I’d ever sleep with a stranger again, but I always wanted to remember this feeling. I felt like I had broken out of some imaginary chains, like I could literally do anything.

  Making sure my breasts were positioned so you couldn’t see anything, I grabbed my purse and looked at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed and my lips swollen. I looked exactly like someone should after the night I’d just had—fucked in the most wonderful way. Although, something about taking his cologne didn’t quite sit right with me. I wasn’t planning on putting it back, but I at least needed to leave him something in its place. Pulling at my lip, I grinned to myself then did yet another thing I never thought I’d do. I slipped off my underwear and left the black lacy scrap of material on the bench where the cologne had been. As far as I was concerned, it was a fair swap. My scent for his.

  Happy with every decision I’d made over the last twelve hours, I slipped out of the bathroom and crept across the room, taking one last look at Green-eyes before I opened the door and exited the room.

  “Thanks for the memories,” I whispered, blowing him a kiss. Then I left, and I didn’t look back. Olivia was going to be so proud of me.

  The early morning cab ride took less than twenty minutes to Olivia’s South Yarra apartment block. She lived on the third floor of a modern building that overlooked the water. The furnishing was as stylish as the woman herself, with large cream leather couches dominating the living area. There was modern art on the walls, and a coffee table that I had a sneaking suspicion was also some sort of sex chair because of the way it curved ergonomically. The kitchen was huge with marbled surfaces and an oven that had never been turned on—Olivia didn’t like to waste time cooking and ate out or ordered in to save herself the trouble. There were two bedrooms and a study. The largest bedroom was hers with light-coloured rustic-looking furniture and artful black and white pictures of semi-naked people on the walls. The second room was her home office, and the study was her workout room. In its entirety, the apartment was quite small, but she’d made excellent use of the space and it was perfect for its sole occupant’s purposes. However, with all the rooms taken, I was left sleeping on the couch next to the weird ‘coffee table’.

  The first thing I did when I got inside was take a long hot shower to work out all the aches and pains in my muscles from a night of rigorous passion. The water felt glorious over my skin, and the soap felt like a silken pillow. I couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop thinking about the things I’d done, the way I’d reacted to his touch, the way I’d moaned without restraint. How was I ever going to top that? I could literally die a happy woman right in this moment. I didn’t care about my impending divorce, or the crap going on at work. I didn’t care about my homeless situation, or the court appearance scheduled for the following Wednesday. I was completely at peace.

  When tiredness began to weigh down my bones, I shut off the water and exited the stall, towelling off on the mat in front of the mirror. That’s when I saw the marks. He had branded me.

  Everywhere.

  My towel fell to the floor as I stared at my reflection. There were hickeys and bruises on my neck, my breasts, my hips, my stomach, my arse! I knew he’d given me a love bite or two, and I knew we’d been fairly rough, but I wasn’t expecting this.

 
Wow. I was going to have to be careful how I dressed and wore my hair until they faded.

  Slipping into my pyjamas, I picked up the cologne and smelled it one more time. The marks on my skin had definitely been worth it.

  When I padded out to the lounge room, the sun was already above the horizon, turning the sky from pink to blue. As far as I could tell, Olivia had yet to come home. I was all alone, and for the first time since I could remember, I was comfortable with that.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Those five words jolted me from my slumber, my confusion making me worry that I was in the wrong place. Pulling the sleep mask from my eyes, I sat up and looked around, noting the familiar furniture and the bag in the corner that contained my things. Olivia was standing beside the couch, still wearing the dress she’d had on the night before, her hands on her hips.

  “I’m staying here?” I answered, squinting at her with only one eye. Was she high?

  “No.” She took a seat on the coffee table/sex contraption. “I’m talking about right now. You left with that guy and his great thighs.”

  “He had a lot more than great thighs,” I assured her, a grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

  Her eyes went wide. “Do tell.”

  I pulled myself to sitting and pushed my sleep mask to the top of my head. “We went to a hotel, and…” I paused and shook my head, finding it hard to believe last night had really happened, but unable to keep the smile from my face. “It was remarkable. He was so much more than I was expecting.”

  “Giant cock?” she asked, her tone completely neutral and serious.

  “Definitely well above average. Everything about last night was above average. I think he ruined me.”

  “That good, huh?”

  I nodded. “It really was.”

  She grinned broadly and let out a happy sigh. “I’m so glad you left with him. I can already see that you’re a new woman. You’re already sporting a couple of new fashion accessories,” she said, pointing the hickey on my neck and the one on my breast that was poking out the top of my nightie.

  “He was an animal.” I laughed, getting shivers running over my body at the thought of the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d pounced.

  “He sounds delicious. So what was his name? How old was he?”

  I shook my head. “I honestly have no clue, but I’m guessing he was around twenty-five, maybe a little older.”

  Her mouth opened in happy surprise. “You didn’t get his name?”

  “Nope.”

  She swept me up in her arms and hugged me tight, the ache reminding me of how much exercise my body went through last night. “I’m so proud of you! The student has surpassed the master and it’s only the first lesson.”

  “First lesson? It might have to be my last.”

  “No.” She released me, the word drawing out as she shook her head. “This was just the beginning, my friend. There are so many fish in that sea for you to taste.”

  I sighed. “There might be plenty of fish, but last night, I caught a shark. How am I supposed to go back to fish after I had shark?”

  She leaned on her hand and studied my blissful expression. “He really did fuck you senseless, didn’t he?”

  “Completely. I don’t think I can even remember the name of that guy I married anymore.”

  She laughed. “Well, as long as he got you to stop thinking about what’s-his-face, then whoever-he-is has my eternal gratitude. Just please don’t let that experience be your last. There are so many men, and they all have their own unique skillset. This is just the tip of the iceberg, Cora.”

  “Just the tip, huh?”

  She grinned. “Just the tip.”

  “Of the dickberg?”

  Her grin turned into a full-blown laugh. “Get dressed,” she said. “I need a good shot of coffee and some eggs over easy. We’re going out to breakfast. Actually, we should make it a champagne breakfast to celebrate you taking the single life by the horns.”

  “More alcohol? I drank far too much of that last night. Coffee will be perfect. Bacon, even better.”

  6

  By the time Wednesday rolled along, the weekend’s bliss felt like a distant memory. If it wasn’t for the fading marks on my body, I could have convinced myself that it wasn’t real. The amount of briefs that had landed on my desk had me buried in a mountain of paperwork. Babysitting the new solicitors in the legal training program was not my favourite thing to do. They were all fresh out of university and most of them seriously thought they were capable of standing in a courtroom and arguing a case because they’d successfully won a mock trial at uni. I had some disappointing news for them: the courts were nowhere near as forgiving as their lecturers were.

  “What is this supposed to be?” I asked Nick, a graduate who had been with us for less than a month who I’d called into my office to discuss his work.

  “It’s a Memorandum of Advice.”

  I looked at the printed page. “And what exactly are you advising that we charge them with?”

  He reached over and tapped the open file. “It says right there—two counts of sexual assault and possession of illegal substances.”

  “What about assault of a minor? Possession with intent to sell? Did you not pay attention to the details in the police report?”

  “I did, I just thought—”

  “You didn’t,” I snapped. Closing the file, I slapped it down in front of him. “Do it again. I want a list of every charge you can possibly think of.”

  There was a knock on my door and I looked up to find Olivia. “We’re due at the magistrate court in an hour.” My heart kicked up a notch. It was the hearing for my intervention order. I was about to go and explain why I hit my husband over the head with my laptop, knocked him out cold, then attacked his clothes instead of calling an ambulance. I really hoped the magistrate was a woman.

  “I’ll be right with you,” I told her. Then I turned to Nick, needing to send him on his way. “Do it again, and properly this time. I want it on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.” He nodded and stood to leave. “And Nick?” He paused then turned to face me. “More is better at this stage of your career.”

  “OK,” he replied, before heading out the door. The moment he was out of earshot, I let out a sigh.

  “You ready for this?”

  I pressed my fingers to my forehead, my head emitting a dull throb. “Not really. I’m not particularly interested in seeing him again. Do you know who the magistrate is?”

  “I’ve barely had a moment to scratch my own tit. We’ll have to find out when we get there.”

  Nodding, I cleaned up my desk then took my bag out of my bottom drawer. “OK, I’m ready,” I said as I stood, smoothing my hand over the sides of my beige skirt and grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair. “Wait.” I placed my handbag on my desk then dug through it, retrieving my powder compact and that magic black bullet of confidence—my Mac lipstick. I swiped an extra coat of a deep beige called Velvet Teddy over my lips and I was good to go. “Now I’m ready.”

  Olivia smiled then held her hand out to me. “Come on, let’s go and get this nonsense over with.”

  When we arrived at the courthouse, Jack was standing in front of it smoking. The moment he saw us, he dropped his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with his foot, kicking it to the side with the tip of his shoe. He still cut a striking figure. He was tall; just a touch over six feet, dark-haired, olive skin thanks to his Italian heritage, and he had eyes the colour of melted chocolate. He had a classically handsome face and beautiful hands—I’d never grown tired of looking at them, they were strong but graceful. The memory of sliding his wedding ring over his finger filled my mind and made my throat tighten. How could he do this to me?

  “Cora.”

  I had to look away.

  “We’ll see you inside, Jack-Arse,” Olivia answered for me, taking my arm and guiding me up the steps.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”


  I didn’t answer, just kept heading for the doors.

  “You’re the one who took out the intervention order. She’s not allowed near you,” Olivia responded.

  “Please, Cora,” he pleaded.

  Something about the gentleness in his voice made me pause. We’d spent eleven years together. Surely it didn’t all have to end so bitterly. Maybe he wanted to apologise? Maybe he wanted to end this whole intervention order ridiculousness before it went any further?

  Placing my hand over Olivia’s I took a deep breath. “It’s all right. I’ll meet you in there.”

  With her lips tight, she looked at me then at him before she let out her breath. “Fine. But I’ll be right on the other side of that door.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said.

  “I’m not doing it for you, fuck-face,” Olivia spat before sauntering inside.

  “She’s delightful as always,” Jack commented, sliding his hands into his pants pockets.

  I folded my arms across my chest, and did my best not to make eye contact. The last time I saw him, he was fucking another woman. I couldn’t stop the replay from looping in my head. “What do you want, Jack?”

  He shrugged his suit-covered shoulders. He was dressed in a charcoal-grey suit and pale blue shirt that I’d never seen before. Although, it wasn’t like he could have worn one of his old suits, given they didn’t exactly allow people to enter the courthouse in crotchless pants.

  “I just wanted to talk. You look good.”

  “I look good. That’s what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  He shook his head. “Like I said, I just wanted to talk. Say hi for a minute. I haven’t seen you in almost three months. I used to see you all the time—at home, in court…I miss you.”

  “Well, I was forced to move out of our home, and court reporters don’t need to be around the Legal Trainee’s Supervisor, do they? You ensured our paths wouldn’t cross when you got me demoted with this.” I gestured toward the court house.