Angry Sex

by Sommer Marsden

  It wasn’t lost on Luna that she had a hard time saying she was sorry to anyone, yet here she was barking it into his ear as he fucked her. He freed her up for more than guiltless sex it seemed.

  “Shut up,” he told her for the second time, but this time it was kind. A don’t-worry-about-it kind of command.

  “I shouldn’t butt in…” She titled her head back, the cool steel of the walk-in wall kissing the back of her head. When he literally reached up to cover her mouth with his palm to keep her from talking, she came. A wet flex of spasm after spasm that had her sucking hard for air through her nose.

  When he felt it, Adam hissed like she'd hurt him and then stiffened, coming. He muffled his harsh noises against her throat. His breath was hot on her skin. And then they were frozen that way. Still entangled, breathing hard, as cold air puffed mist into the small enclosure. The sounds of the restaurant a distant thump through the thick, insulated, door.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again as he kissed her nose gently and then pulled free of her.

  “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for,” he said with a half-assed smile. Putting himself back together only took a moment, but poor Luna was trying to get back into her panties.

  She started to tip over while balanced on one leg and he steadied her with a hand on her arm.

  Looking up into those serious blue eyes, she didn’t think, she simply said, “Then tell me.”

  There was a crackling charged-air kind of moment when he considered her. She was still messing with her clothes. Smoothing, taming, making sure her skirt wasn’t shoved into the back of her panties or something like that. Someone yanked the steel door and finding it blocked, stopped.

  “My mother,“ he said.

  Luna had an instant of confusion. She couldn’t make the connection. She started to shake her head and then the puzzle piece slipped into place. “You lost your mother?” She’d thought it was a girlfriend. That it had been the loss of a relationship.

  “Oh, God.” She tucked her tee into her skirt, pulled it out, tucked it in…just to give her hands something to do. “I’m an asshole. I thought you meant…I thought you broke up with someone. I had no idea that your mother died. I’m such an ass…” He grabbed her hand and held it, stepping in to be close to her. He said, “Stop, Luna.

  You’re not an ass. You’re not even right.” He tried to smile but it died on his lips.

  “But—what?”

  “My mother has Alzheimer’s,” he said. “When I said I lost her, it was figuratively to a degree. I’m struggling is all. And pissed. My old job paid great, we were a hot company, we worked a lot. Overtime, bonuses, all that shit. And when things dried up…”

  “The money,” she breathed.

  Someone pulled the door again. “A minute!” he yelled and then to himself, “Good job Singleton. Lose this fucking job. Yes, the money. It was damn near impossible to pay the home she’s in with my former job. Now it’s…” He simply shook his head.

  “You said you lost—“

  “I have. She’s at that point where she barely remembers me. It’s very rare for her to recognize me now. It used to be just sometimes. Now it’s…more.” His face was tight, his eyes dark and shielded. She couldn’t read him. What was the right thing to say?

  She winced. “Look, you can pick up as many hours with us as you want. I can make you a permanent employee if you need. Or you know…” She was thinking aloud, feeling a little panicky and frantic. “I could maneuver some part time student types into a certain amount of hours. And then you can—“

  “Luna!” He snapped, fists tight by his side.

  She blinked and then her face felt hot with embarrassment at his sudden irritation.

  “What?”

  “Stop it, okay? You don’t need to fucking feel sorry for me,” he said. “I have to go. I have to…go.” He kicked the wedges free and stormed out, leaving her standing there, in the walk-in cooler, with a very surprised young waitress staring at her through the door.

  “Um…hi,” Luna muttered and then hurried off.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You okay?”

  Savannah came over, glowing from the dancing and probably the large black man who was now wooing her. Even pissed and hurt Luna couldn’t suppress her smile. “Fine. You keep dancing. I might call a cab and go home.”

  Savannah turned and waved to her new dance partner, as if to say keep dancing without me. She grabbed a seat and took a huge swig of Luna’s daiquiri and then a huge swallow of her ice water. “Spill. What could have possibly happened here in this fine dining establishment?”

  “That,” Luna said, nodding toward the bar where a very angry—face set, shoulders tight—Adam served drinks and washed glasses.

  “Well fuck me hard,” Savannah sighed.

  “He did. Well, me, not you.”

  “He…what?” Savannah turned, her face a mask of shock but her mouth curved into an oh-you-dirty-girl smile.

  “In the walk-in. We sort of did it.”

  “Remind me not to eat here.” Savannah winked and drank more of Luna’s water.

  “We weren’t near any food. Judgmental much?”

  “Sorry, sorry!” Savannah patted her leg. “I was only joking.” She watched Adam for a moment and then sighed. “So you saw him, went in the walk-in, and then fucked like bunnies.

  Okay. What’s the problem? Why are you upset?”

  “I got in trouble.”

  “With who? Whom? Who!”

  “Who,” Luna said. “I think.”

  “Who did you get in trouble with?” Savannah rubbed her fingers through the wet ring left by the sweating glass.

  “Him. I made the mistake of giving a shit about his personal life and he sort of…stormed out.”

  Savannah stared at the man behind the counter. He was handsome but clearly, if you paid attention, agitated. When she turned back to Luna she said, “Then don’t do that. Didn’t you say you two were just fuck buddies? Out for rage sex.”

  “Angry sex,” Luna said, laughing softly.

  “Whatever. If that’s all it is, clearly that’s what he wants. Give it to him. You claim to want that too.”

  “Claim? Well, thanks inspector!”

  “You know what I mean. If that’s what you want, then have that and just that. Don’t care.”

  “How do I not care about a man’s mother with Alzheimer’s and him losing his job and working multiple places just to keep her in a care facility? I’m not a monster. How do I not care about that?” Luna was so frustrated she wanted to beat her head on the counter.

  Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know. You are a caregiver, a soft-hearted pain in the ass. I guess the answer is, you just can’t let him know you care.” Luna sighed. “I guess I can do that.”

  “You have to. Or stop banging the busboy.”

  “He’s a bartender,” Luna said, plucking her daiquiri from Savannah’s greedy fingers.

  Savannah shrugged. “Bartender…yeah. But busboy sounds better. Dirtier,” she said, grinning. “Way dirtier.”

  * * * * *

  His eyes flicked to her as she and Savannah headed out. He almost looked, for just a moment, like he was sorry to see her go. Or was going to say something. Just to prove to him (and herself) that she was a big girl who could stick to the just sex rules, Luna raised her arm and waved goodbye. Adam nodded once, brusquely, and then returned to stocking beers in the cooler.

  “Just think, you can walk out of here and away from the weirdness,” Savannah said as gravel crunched and popped beneath their sandals. Out on the bay the water was still and somewhere a bird cried out in the descending darkness.

  “Yeah,” Luna said. But inside she had mixed emotions. She was happy to be walking away from it, but also sad. And frustrated.

  “Until tomorrow,” Savannah added, clicking her key fob so the car unlocked and the lights flashed.

  Luna’s heart sank. “Oh shit. Seriously?”

  “Yep,” Sav
annah said. “We have a fiftieth birthday party tomorrow night and guess who I got to work it.”

  “Tell me it’s Barbara! She’s ready to get out of the house, work again and find a babysitter!”

  “Good lord, no. That baby is only what? A week old? Nope. It’s tall, dark and surly. Also known as your bedmate. Fuck buddy. Sex slave. Nookie…I don’t have one that works with nookie.”

  “Ugh,” Luna said, and climbed in the car. “Change the subject.” Savannah started the car. “Fine. We can talk about Todd.”

  “Who’s Todd?”

  “My dance partner. He’s meeting me in an hour at McGee’s.”

  “Ah, so you’re ditching me.” Luna smiled and winked. She was totally kidding.

  “Want to come?”

  “Goodness, no! And be the third wheel? No thanks,” she laughed. “I’ll just go home and have some wine and talk to…myself. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even have a cat,” she snorted. But under the humorous sound was a real vein of sadness.

  “Honey,” Savannah said and patted her leg as she merged onto the beltway.

  “No pity please. It will be fine. This is just one of those bumps in life. Just a glitch in the system.” Luna tried to sound like she really meant it.

  “Amen,” Savannah said.

  At Luna’s house, Savannah tried once more. “Sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  “I’m sure.” Luna waved goodbye as Savannah drove off.

  Her house was cool and quiet, dark and empty. It was unnerving. Luna went around turning all the lights on through her home. She even turned the light on in Nick’s room and whispered, “I miss you, kid.”

  Just then her phone buzzed in her skirt pocket. WHERE RU? U SKYPING ME?

  She typed back quickly. YOU WANT ME TO?

  She waited, staring at the Deadmau5 poster on his wall, the crystals on the window ledge, the horrible skull shaped incense burner and his clothes strewn about. The phone jingled.

  YOU AVOIDING POP?

  She laughed. The kid was too fucking perceptive. SORTA. NOT VERY MATURE, I KNOW.

  She sat on his bed, eyeing the various bits of paper he had taped to the wall. Pictures cut from magazines, drawings from friends, band logos. She touched his beanie that had been flung on the bedspread and then pressed it to her face to smell him. When her phone jingled, she jumped as if she’d been caught.

  TAKE THE NIGHT OFF. WE’LL SKYPE TOMRRW. GO WATCH FF. U’LL

  LAUGH. LOVE U

  Luna bit her lip and swallowed hard to tamp down her tears. LOVE YOU TOO she typed and then NIGHT, KIDDO

  “Watch FF,” she muttered. “Yep, too fucking perceptive.” She found her nightshirt that looked like an oversized football jersey and then undressed, sighing audibly when she got her bra off. Under it all she was sticky from the heat and dancing.

  Among other things.

  Luna popped in the shower real fast and scrubbed up. When she slid into the over washed ancient nightie she felt relaxed and secure. A nice feeling after all the turmoil. Downstairs, she loaded the DVD Funny Farm—FF in Nick’s shorthand—into the player to watch. The movie was an all time favorite. It never failed to cheer her up, at least a bit, when she was down. A good dose of Chevy Chase and the insane villagers in his new small town would work wonders for her tonight while she was fluctuating between feeling angry and feeling like an ass.

  Somewhere around the onscreen couple’s anniversary date, she felt herself drifting. But she was in her comfy overstuffed chair and her feet were tucked under her and her son had understood and it was all…okay.

  Her head hit the padded arm of the chair and she let it stay there. Listening to the movie instead of watching it. The image of the walk-in cooler and being wrapped around Adam rose up in her head and she pushed it away. She didn’t want to think about it now. How his words had stung. How she’d cared about what he was telling her and he just…lashed out.

  Gee, you never lash out do you?

  “Shut up,” she murmured to her internal critic. And then she really let herself go under.

  Better to sleep than to rehash the unpleasantness with a man she thought was a good man beneath all the bluster and bullshit.

  When the doorbell rang she jolted. It took a minute for Luna to get her bearings. She wasn’t one for falling asleep downstairs. She usually put in her day’s work, came home to spend time with Nick. When he hunkered down in his room with his video games, she hunkered down in hers with a glass of wine and a book, or a show or her laptop.

  Being downstairs in the living room threw her for a loop. The doorbell bonging again, threw her for another. “Coming!” she yelled when it sounded again.

  “Jeesh, impatient much?” she growled, pulling her nightie down to cover her ass.

  Hopefully it wasn’t an axe murderer or some other breed of lunatic.

  She peeked through the peephole and caught sight of a broad shoulder. A white tee. A strong jaw line. Then he tapped his finger to the other side of the peephole as if to say, I know you’re watching, and she blanched.

  There was an instant where Luna considered yelling--go away!-- and heading upstairs for the night. She opened her mouth to say it and then she heard him loud and clear as if he had his mouth pressed to the crack where the door met the jam.

  “Let me in, Luna. I can feel you there. I know you see me.”

  “Damn,” she muttered, undoing the chain and then turning the bolt. She pulled the door open just enough to glare at him.

  He tapped his toe. Waited.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “You are talking to me.”

  “I’m sorry I was an asshole,” Adam said.

  “I’m sorry you’re an asshole too,” she said.

  He laughed at that—a begrudging but genuine laugh. “Can I come in?”

  “No.” She pushed her hip to the door and fought her own instincts. She really did want to just let him in. To tell him it was okay. Somehow he made her want to protect him and punch his lights out. Weird.

  Adam forced his work boot to the door’s kick plate and pushed. He was strong—even his foot. And he pressed it hard enough that she felt it forcing her back some. Luna levered her weight against it so he couldn’t get it open any further. She had to really lean into it. Apparently assholes were strong. “No,” she said again.

  He reached through the opening provided him and touched her lower lip with his finger.

  “Your mouth says no, but your eyes say yes. And so does your body.” His finger trailed over her nipple and she jerked back, making a small sound. That touch had gone straight to her cunt.

  “Let me in,” he said, pushing with his foot. This time he added his hand to the door and used his massive arms. The door was giving, and so was she. She relaxed her resistance, letting the door open a bit more. He stepped up on the threshold and wedged himself into the widening crack. “Little Red, Little Red, please let me in…”

  “You’re mixing up your fairytales,” she whispered when he filled the doorway.

  “Doesn’t matter. I can play the big bad wolf in any tale you put me in.” He was in. Inside her house, kicking her door shut, gripping the sides of her head in his giant hands and kissing her. His mouth tasted like something sweet but alcoholic. Tequila?

  She had a moment where she tensed, thinking she had dog breath from falling asleep. But the point in the movie told her she hadn’t been asleep long enough to worry about that. Thank God. Because his tongue was nudging hers, teasing her mouth into opening for him further.

  Letting him kiss her deeper. Adam thrust a thigh between her legs and forced her legs apart some. She felt the bump and kiss of his hard leg against her already swollen clit. The sensation alone made her sigh into his mouth. Which apparently turned Adam on, because he grabbed her ass and hauled her to him. The press of his erection to her pussy was insistent and enticing. How fast could she get her nightie up? Her panties down? That cock in her.

>   Adam swept his hands along the faded fabric of her nightshirt. “Fuck, I like the feel of this,” he said, smoothing his palms over her breasts. Her nipples spiked up, hard and eager against his hands.

  She nodded. Dumbly. It was all she could think to do as he plucked the hard points of her nipples until the sensation wormed its way through her belly, making her pussy grow wetter. Her throat felt tickly from the pinching and the wanting and the need. “Adam,” she said.

  “You make me fucking nuts,” he said. His mouth tight, almost angry. They were eye to eye—locked in a gaze, but his hands continued roaming her body. Touching her. As if independent from his emotions. He seemed mad, but he touched her like he was worshipping her.

  “Why are you mad now?”

  He glared, but then kissed her. “You’re fault.”

  “My fault!” She batted at him, but he held her firmly, kissed her again. Making her insanely irate but equally lustful.

  “Yes. It is your fault.” He shoved her nightie up and his fingers hooked in the sides of her panties. He had them down before she could react.

  “Stop,” she said. Angry, hurt, more than a little annoyed. Her pulse thundered in her ears and it was all she could hear over the sound of his breathing and the racing of her heart.

  “No,” he said. Pushing a finger into her. Making her hiss. Her body, traitor that it was, betrayed her words by gripping around him, flickering with urgency.

  “Say no again,” he said, driving another finger into her.

  “No,” she said, but the word came out like an invitation. Her eyelids slid shut and she sighed. “It’s not fair,” she said, giving into herself. Her emotions and her body. “I didn’t do anything.”

  A tear slid free of her lower lid. She felt it go. A salty tattle tale that let him know she was hurting. But her body gave up a rush of fluid as he worked her G-spot, grinding his thumb to her clitoris.