Never Again

by Lilliana Anderson

  Bran: yikes. Positive test, hey?

  Me: she’s freaking out

  Bran: I would be too

  Reading Bran’s reaction, I thought about my desire to start a family. While I was glad I found out about Jack’s infidelities before we had kids, pregnancy—being a mum—had been relegated to a dream that would gather dust along with my eggs. By the time Bran was ready for kids, I’d be going through menopause.

  I stopped myself from continuing that train of thought. Bran and I were intense, but we probably weren’t long-term. I was logical enough to understand that. There were simply too many obstacles for a future to be a real consideration. When we were together, it felt like nothing in the world mattered, but apart, without the pheromones clouding my judgement, I understood that relationships like ours rarely lasted. They simply ran their course and died out like a too-bright star with no gas left to burn.

  Me: I’m always careful. Don’t want to ruin the girls with all those hormones.

  I sent him a shot of my cleavage.

  Bran: you’re killing me

  He followed that message with a picture of his giant bulge.

  Me: That’s not going to help you study

  Bran: I’d rather be studying you

  Just as I was about to respond, Olivia walked in the room, looking like she’d been dragged through the emotional wringer.

  “How’d it go?” I asked, slipping my phone into the waistband of my skirt.

  She rubbed her palms against her thighs. “He’s coming over.”

  “How’d he react?”

  Meeting my eyes, she shrugged. “Same as me. He’s petrified.” Sitting on the arm of her sofa, my old bed, she gestured toward the phone at my hip. “Who were you texting?”

  “No one important,” I lied, trying to sound flippant. “How far away does Paul live?”

  A slow smile spread across her lips, but it wasn’t a happy one. It was the smile of a person who knows they’re being lied to. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

  “What?” It was a classic avoidance tactic—act dumb, maybe they’ll believe you.

  “The intern. You’re fucking him.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “No.” The word became elongated as I went through the same tactics we’d seen criminals use over and over again. First, act dumb. Second, deny everything. “That would be crazy.”

  “And yet you’re still doing it. I can see it in the way you’re behaving. Plus, I’m pretty sure that’s a hickey I see peeking out at the neck of your blouse.”

  I immediately moved my neckline, causing her to smile knowingly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Third, anger and misdirection. “Maybe you should be focusing on your own mess instead of making up shit about me to get your mind off it. I came here to support you, not to be a victim of your Spanish Inquisition.”

  She held up her hands, her voice calm. “I was simply making an observation, Cora. What you do and with whom you do it is your business. I just want you to be careful. I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake.” Her blue eyes held mine solemnly. Then there was a buzz on the intercom.

  “I should go. Let you two talk.”

  She nodded. “Just please be careful,” she whispered, giving me a long hug.

  “I will,” I whispered back. Fourth, when it’s obvious you’ve been caught, drop all pretence. “Good luck with Paul. Call me if you need me.”

  “Say hi to Brandon for me.”

  I nodded. “And it’s Bran. He prefers to be called Bran.”

  22

  With an overnight bag on my arm, I used the key card to access the lifts at Bran’s hotel, preferring to knock at his door so we both got the full effect of my arrival. Nerves were dancing inside my stomach the entire journey over. One false move and the entire city of Melbourne would cop an eyeful of flailing breasts and lady parts.

  That’s right, I was doing the time-honoured visit to my lover wearing nothing but an overcoat and heels.

  With a light tap on his door, I waited, listening to his footsteps on the other side. He took my breath away when the door creaked open. He was wearing nothing but a pair of pants unbuttoned at the waist. No shirt. All I could see were rippling muscles and a giant V that fit perfectly within the open fly. I could even see a light trail of hair… God, I loved that body. I licked my lips. “Been doing a little prep work while waiting for me?” I asked, my eyes falling to his open pants.

  One side of his mouth pulled up as his darkening eyes met mine. “I have a beautiful brunette on the brain.” His hand slid inside his pants as his gaze moved down my body. “Please tell me you’re making my dreams come true and there’s nothing underneath that coat.” When he removed his hand, there was a decidedly large bulge waiting for me.

  “Why don’t you open it up and find out?” I stepped in and dropped my bag, holding out the sash.

  Tugging it, he slid it out from around me with a whoosh, throwing it over his left shoulder. The coat fell open, breezing against my skin to reveal me in nothing but a pair of electric-blue heels. His smile widened, turning salacious as he pushed the coat off my shoulders. “Nice shoes. Wanna fuck?” he asked, grabbing me by the thighs and lifting me until he threw me onto the bed. I landed with a bounce and a burst of laughter as he discarded his pants and climbed on top of me, his throbbing cock trailing along my legs.

  “I worship you,” he murmured, lifting my right leg as his lips moved against my smooth skin, planting soft kisses before he playfully bit my calf. I giggled. And he smiled at me wickedly, placing my ankle on his shoulder as he reached his free hand forward and ran his fingers over my mound.

  “I’ve been known to pray at the altar of Bran myself,” I responded, gasping when the tips of his fingers slid through my arousal then pushed inside.

  “You feel too good.” He slid another finger inside, using his thumb to massage my throbbing clit. “Too good.”

  “Inside, Bran,” I gasped, wanting to come with his length inside me, my desire to shudder while wrapped around his girth mounting. I used my legs and reached for his arm, pulling him toward me. “Please.”

  With a growl, he grabbed my hips and flipped me onto my stomach, pulling back until I was on my knees. His hand collided with my arse, sending a loud slap, and a yelp from me into the room. Then he evened out the sting by clapping his hand against my other cheek before sliding his hand up the centre of my back and winding my long hair around his hand. I made a small helpless sound as he pulled my hair and pushed inside me at the same time. Pleasure and pain, joining together in one harmonious movement. God, he was so good at this.

  “You’re like a vice,” he grunted, his hips swivelling as he slid back and forth, gliding through my arousal, pushing deep inside, a glorious feeling that was almost too much. “You grip me so hard that it almost hurts to come.”

  I hoped that was a good thing, but I was too far gone to make any other sound that wasn’t a moan. The animal side of me took control whenever he was inside me and all I could do was experience his movement and take from his body. I felt transported to another plane of existence.

  “Oh God.” My voice tore out of my throat in a harsh cry, my back arching as I pushed against him, taking him as deep as I could while I came.

  “Fuck.” His hand released my hair then his fingers dug into my hips as he pulled out of me, flipping me over to my back.

  Grabbing my legs, he forced them straight then climbed on top of me, his knees over my waist, his slick wet cock slotting in between my breasts. “Those tits.” With a squeeze, he pressed the mounds of flesh around his length, thrusting back and forth between them until he erupted, spurting hot cum in a pool across my collarbone. I felt the fluid run to my neck as he pulled back, out of breath, but smiling.

  “There’s your pearl necklace,” he said, using his fingers to trace the shape around my neck then spread his cum across my chest. I laughed then reached up, tugging against the silken strands of his light hair, guiding his mout
h to mine.

  “My favourite piece of jewellery.”

  Pulling back, he looked down at me, his dark eyes softening. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  “So are you.” I smiled, feeling a little too exposed at his compliment. He saw me raw. In our short time together, I’d exposed some of the best and worst of myself in his presence, and still he found me enticing. How long could that possibly last?

  Leaning down, Bran kissed me, his tongue, tasting me in long leisurely licks. I sighed against his skilled mouth, my body feeling sated and soft beneath his contrasting hard. Breaking away, he rolled off the bed and scooped me up.

  “I can walk.” I laughed, even though I loved the way he fucked me hard and dirty then tenderly cleaned me up.

  “Don’t question it. This is how I take care of my woman. I fuck you, I bathe you, and I feed you.”

  “Then we do it all over again.” I smiled, holding on to his broad shoulders.

  “Fuck yeah,” he said with a smile. “Once is never enough.”

  No. It wasn’t. And to be honest, I already hated the day when once would be enough for him, because that would probably be the day before he said goodbye.

  23

  “Your birthday is coming up next week?” The counsellor posed it as a question, but he knew it for a fact considering my birthday was on the file he had in front of him. It was the beginning of November. Spring was in the air with the sun pushing out the winter clouds that took up residence in Melbourne each winter. Bran and I were still devouring each other most nights with no sign of stopping. When my birthday arrived, it would be four months together—not that I was counting. On top of that, in only one more session, Jack’s and my three months of therapy would be over. I was almost free from having to see him. My thirtieth birthday would certainly be a memorable one.

  “That’s right,” I replied, doing my best to not look at Jack. In fact, I was sitting as far away from him on the couch as I possibly could. After weeks of these sessions, I was still no closer to getting any answers. All we’d spoken about was my anger towards Jack, and the reasons he felt the need to find fulfilment in the arms of another woman. Shockingly, all ten of his stupidly pretty fingers seemed to point at me because I ‘worked so much’. It was a total cop-out. The counsellor seemed to provide little help as far as I was concerned. He was so infuriatingly neutral that I never knew if he sided more with Jack’s version of events or mine. He simply sat there every session, asking stupid questions and taking notes. I hated it, hated coming to these fucking sessions for no real reason other than getting that order revoked. I swear, if Jack finds a way to keep it in place after this, I’ll do more than hit him. The police would never find the body.

  “It’s her big three-oh,” Jack said proudly, reaching over and patting my leg. I shot him a warning look, my eyes screaming, don’t touch me. I somehow managed to squish even closer to the opposite side of the couch to evade any further contact. We weren’t there yet. Not even close. Never would be.

  Mr. Magoo noted the exchange and surprise, surprise, jotted something in his notes. “How are you feeling about hitting that milestone considering the state of your marriage?”

  “If you’re asking me if I feel like a failure because my husband is a liar, a cheat and a manipulator, the answer is no. In fact, I feel relieved. Jack and I had spoken about starting a family when I turned thirty. So I’m happy because I didn’t tie myself to him with a child. Lord only knows what having a lying cheat for a father would do to the poor thing.”

  Mr. Magoo nodded and made a few notes before turning his attention to Jack. “How do you feel after listening to Cora’s comments?” The man seriously had zero personality.

  Jack pressed his lips together, looking like the wounded party. “It hurts,” he said. “It hurts me knowing how much I’ve hurt her. I keep looking back on our life together, and I’ve done nothing but screw up. I kept looking to other people—other women’s attraction to me—to validate my self worth.”

  “You say ‘women’ and yet you still won’t admit to a number,” I retorted, getting fed up with him forever evading that simple question I felt I had the right to have answered.

  He looked at Mr Magoo, then down at his hands. I felt I wasn’t going to get an answer today either. Would I ever?

  Shaking my head, I turned away, playing with my earring and looking at a landscape of the Australian bush on the wall. There was a kangaroo and her joey drinking from a billabong. Little did they know but there was probably a crocodile hiding in there, ready to grab them. Predators were like that. You’d think you were safe then they tore your reality to shreds. Jack would know. He was good at fucking with reality.

  The room had grown very quiet and I wondered if perhaps I’d said all that stuff about predators out loud. Jack picked at the skin on his palms, the callouses he’d earned from lifting weights. I hated when he did that. No one wanted someone else’s dead skin on their floor.

  “The first time was during our first semester at uni. My media class had a group assignment due,” he started, causing my chest to tighten and my stomach to twist. We’d barely been dating a year. What the actual fuck? A sudden surge of panic surprised me by breaking out into a cold sweat all over my body. Do I really want to hear this? Do I really want to understand the depths of his betrayal?

  I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat before I could manage to speak. “The…the one where you compared the movie and the book?” I remembered it because they’d gone to see the movie in a group and he made a bunch of excuses why I couldn’t join in. Then he didn’t get home until nearly 3 a.m. I’d been beside myself with worry.

  He nodded. “I didn’t have car trouble.”

  Somehow I knew that. Even at the time I think I knew, but I chose to ignore it. I was too in love. I wanted to believe him. And he’d become so doting and attentive afterward that I felt bad for doubting him.

  I clasped my hands on my knees, my fingers pinching. “Go on,” I urged, keeping the feeling out of my voice.

  “I felt awful afterward,” he confessed. “I stayed true to you for the next two years. But then you got busy with your traineeship on top of school, and I started feeling…unimportant.”

  “So it was my fault for not paying you enough attention?” I snapped, hating that he was still putting any part of his actions on me.

  “I’m not saying that,” he returned. “I’m just trying to explain and give you the answers you want. This is what you want, right? All the gory details?”

  “No! Not the gory details. Just the facts. How many and how long were you cheating?”

  “Nine,” he admitted, closing his eyes as the number fell from his lips. “It happened on and off for ten years.”

  Nine. “Did you love any of them?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know. But I loved you more. It’s why I stayed.”

  I bit back a laugh. “And I should be grateful for that? You robbed me of a decade of my life, Jack!” Nine. “How dare you sit there and say you loved me when you didn’t even care enough to not screw other women.”

  “I tried. Every time I tried. But I kept getting drawn back in. I was addicted to the chase.”

  Nine.

  “Addicted? You’re blaming this on a disease, Jack? As far as I know there is no legitimate disease that causes accidental dick insertion. Did you use protection?”

  “Yes,” he replied, looking at his hands again.

  The moment his nail found the edge of a callous I snapped.

  Nine.

  “Quit picking at your fucking hands!”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, tucking his hands between his thighs to stop himself.

  “No, Jack, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so stupid and so naïve that I put up with your bullshit for so long.” I stood up and started pacing the room. “Nine women, Jack. Nine. That isn’t an accident or an inability to control yourself. That’s one hundred per cent premeditated screwing on the side. The fact you even had prot
ection on you shows you made conscious decisions to stick your dick in the body of other women then come home and do exactly the same thing to me. Or did you fuck all of them in our bed?” I shook my head, raking my hands through my hair to try and shake that sickening feeling away. “What kind of a man does that? And what if I hadn’t found out, Jack? Would you still be fucking Sally or would you be into someone new? Someone called Sandra perhaps? Oh, I know; why don’t you fuck our mail lady? That way you can be the one giving her a package for a change. Won’t that be convenient for you? You can wait at the door naked, stick one in her, then send her on her way five minutes later. Because that’s all it takes you, isn’t it, Jack? You’re a lousy lover who takes far more than he gives. No wonder you can’t keep a mistress, let alone a wife.”

  “Maybe if you put out a little more often instead of being so focused on your career I wouldn’t have had time to stray,” Jack bellowed. My hand itched to slap his face.

  “Then why the fuck did you marry me?”

  “Because you wouldn’t quit pestering me!”

  Because you wouldn’t quit pestering me. He married me to shut me up.

  What the fuck?

  My fists balled at my sides. I wanted blood. I wanted to scratch that smug look off his face and watch him bleed. But that would be too easy for a man like Jack; he’d use it as ammunition against me. Instead, I kept my cool and used my words instead, hitting him in the one place I knew would hurt. “Your dick isn’t as big as I said it was. It isn’t even average. In fact, I’d peg it as a little on the small side.”

  His face went so red, I expected steam to come out his ears.

  “I think it’s time to calm down now.” Mr. Magoo interrupted before things could go any further. “Insults and yelling will not be tolerated.” Tolerated?

  “Who the fuck cares if he’s insulted?” I spat. “Who the fuck cares how he feels? He did this to us. And you can’t tell me that counselling and talking it over can do anything to make me forget that.” I leaned over and picked up my bag. “Forget this shit. Forget you. I don’t want to find a common ground with him. I don’t even care about the fucking intervention order anymore. I just want this fucking bullshit”—I pointed straight at Jack—“out of my life.” I turned and stormed out the door, slamming it behind me.