by Melody Anne
Miranda finally spoke after a long pause.
“I’m the one who should be asking that question. What are you doing allowing that woman, who obviously wants to screw you, into my house?” Her voice was clipped and icy.
I managed to look shocked at her words. I was still playing a game. If I said yes something is going on with her, Miranda and I could set each other free. But I couldn’t seem to do that.
“There’s nothing going on between Bella and me. She’s a work associate. That’s all. She’s helped my career tremendously.” Technically there was nothing happening between Bella and me — not yet.
“Really? That’s the story you’re sticking with?” she asked.
“It’s not a story. It’s the truth.”
“I heard your little comment about you showing her yours and her showing you hers,” she snapped. She drained her glass and refilled it while I gathered my words.
Then I smiled. The best way to end this fight was to actually tell the truth.
She didn’t appear amused at my facial expression.
“We were kidding around. I have a new project I haven’t unveiled yet, and she’s been pestering me to see it. She also has a mysterious client who does phenomenal paintings, but no one has seen his face. I wanted to know who he is,” I told her.
Her temper seemed to be ebbing as she processed my words.
“You don’t touch me anymore — hardly ever. And then you’re in here in my house flirting with another woman. What other conclusion do you think I’d come to when you’re in the room with a sexy woman with the door shut?” I felt like a complete dick when tears sprang to her eyes.
I didn’t hesitate as I stepped forward and took her glass away, setting it aside. I pulled her into my arms, knowing I was an asshole for the pain I’d caused her through the years. This was a woman I’d once loved so much. And somehow I couldn’t find that love anymore.
But she did matter to me. Her feelings mattered. I needed to let her go. But right then I just held her as she soaked my shirt with her tears.
“I’m sorry, Miranda,” I told her. I was so sorry for so many things.
“What has happened to us?” she asked between sobs.
It took me a long time to answer. “I don’t know where it went wrong,” I told her. That was the most honest I could be.
“What does that mean? Do you want to leave me?” she asked. I felt my heart speed up. Neither of us had ever asked that question, not out loud, not to the other person.
Was she giving us an out with that one question? Did I tell her yes? Did I set both of us free? I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.
“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. But I also didn’t let her go. I couldn’t seem to.
She pulled back slightly and looked at me, confusion and panic in her eyes. She was scared. That was more than obvious. We’d made a promise to each other, and we couldn’t seem to break that vow.
Then she closed the distance between us and pressed her lips against mine. It had been so long since we’d kissed I couldn’t remember the last time. I almost pushed her away.
But then I began to feel the same desperation she must be feeling. I kept my arms locked tightly around her and my lips moved with hers. We made love right there against the kitchen counter — and it was spectacular.
It was also the last time it would feel that way.
Chapter Thirteen
Is it cheating on your wife when you don’t have a real marriage anymore? That’s a question I’ve asked myself for a very, very long time.
It did happen. I made a choice. It’s a choice I can’t take back. It’s a choice I don’t want to take back. I don’t know why I didn’t leave Miranda. I don’t know why she didn’t leave me. I don’t know how either of us could still look in the other’s eyes.
I still loved her. Love just wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for either of us. We let each other go a long time before I slept with another woman. We let each other go before we were even married. But we did it anyway. We stayed that way.
Many people stay married because they have children, or because they have bills to pay, or because they’re lonely. None of those reasons applied to Miranda and me. We could have walked away from one another at any point. We chose not to. I don’t think either of us can honestly say why.
I was with Bella the day Miranda’s best friend, Audrey, spotted us.
I saw her a second before Bella approached and wrapped her arms around me. Bella looked confused when I pushed her away. I said nothing. I just began walking. She fell in step beside me.
We hadn’t slept together yet, but we’d been getting closer. We were taking trips together, and my work was entwined with hers. She was a part of it all. I didn’t want to sleep with her. I didn’t want to ruin the edge this was giving me.
It wasn’t Bella I cheated on my wife with. I think that would’ve made the betrayal so much worse. I would sleep with her. But that would come later.
Today I was starting the new project . . . and Bella had it all set up for me.
Audrey trailed us, and there was nothing I could do about it. I think there was a part of me that wanted this to end. I hadn’t cheated at this point, but . . . I wasn’t faithful, not in my heart, not in my head, not in my actions.
Bella led me to an exclusive apartment complex in downtown Portland. We walked inside and the doorman greeted her. Audrey didn’t follow us inside. I was sure she was calling Miranda right then and there. I should have walked right back out. But wouldn’t that have made me look even more guilty?
“My wife’s friend just watched us walk in here,” I said.
That made Bella’s steps falter. She was most likely realizing why my reception to her had been so cold. Understanding was dawning in her eyes.
“Do you want to do this later?” she asked.
Bella had respected my command not to talk about my wife. She knew better than to try to interfere in that relationship. It was why we were able to be friends, why we were business partners, why I was trusting her with my latest project.
“No. I’ve waited long enough,” I told her.
She smiled. Since we were making so much money, and since our relationship had morphed, she’d lost some of the edge she’d had in the beginning. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Did it make me more or less attracted to her? I couldn’t answer. Today wasn’t about her.
We took the elevator to the top of the building, the penthouse suite. The second I stepped inside I knew it was perfect. I knew this was the right place and the right time.
“You’ve done well,” I told her.
She beamed. “You gave me unlimited funds to work with,” she said.
“Perfection has no boundaries,” I replied.
We passed the entryway and the only furnishings in the large living room were a surgical style table with a white sheet on it and three chairs in the corner of the room. An art easel and all the paints I’d need were next to the table. A woman in a robe sat in one of the chairs.
She looked nervous as she gazed at the two of us. Her skin was pale, her hair dark. She was in her mid-twenties. Not too young to make this obscene, not too old to ruin the canvas before me.
“Are the papers signed?” I asked, my question directed at Bella.
“Of course. It’s all done.”
“You’re as efficient as ever,” I told her.
She once again beamed at me. “Your wish is my command,” she said in a teasing tone. We both knew that statement was more true than false. I could have anything I wanted from Bella. She was a strong woman, but she had a weakness — me.
“Leave us now,” I told her.
Hurt flashed in her eyes, but she masked it quickly.
“I thought I’d watch,” she said, trying not to sound hopeful.
“I don’t allow anyo
ne to watch while I work,” I told her. “Today is bringing my idea to life, nothing else. We won’t photograph, we won’t go further. If I think this works, the next time will be different. But for today you need to leave us. We’re wasting time.” I turned away from her, having no doubt she’d follow my instructions.
I heard the door click shut as Bella departed. I focused solely on the woman in the chair.
“Come here,” I told her. I wasn’t seeing her as a woman in this moment; I was seeing her as a blank canvas. She stood and moved toward me, seeming far more comfortable now that it was just the two of us.
“Take off the robe and lie on the table.”
She trembled as her robe dropped to the ground. I gazed at her perfect body as she climbed on the table, lying down so her perky breasts stood up, her stomach sunk in, and her hips flared.
I circled the table as I looked down at her. She shook, her eyes open as she followed me with her gaze. There was heat in her eyes. I felt my body stirring. That frustrated me. I didn’t want to feel that right now.
I moved to my canvas, picked out my brush, then opened the paints I wanted.
She was my first.
I spent nearly two hours with my brush turning her pale body into a canvas of colors. She shook and moaned and stared at me. Our eyes met more than once. My breathing deepened.
There was the slightest edge of guilt flooding through me as I grew more and more intimate with this woman. I could look at her all day long as a canvas, but it was more than that.
When we were finished, I knew I’d found my passion. Today there wouldn’t be pictures. Today I was mastering my craft. I set the brush down and circled the table again. She was stunning.
“Stand up,” I said, a bit huskily.
She sat up then slid her feet over the table. She glanced down, seeing the obvious erection I was sporting. She smiled as she licked her lips.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her. I should send her to the shower and walk away. I should do it now.
She moved toward me. “I’m turned on,” she said.
My already pulsing body throbbed at her words. I couldn’t remember the last time my wife and I had made love. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d found pleasure from anything other than my hand.
I gritted my teeth and said nothing. She moved closer, tentatively reaching out a hand and running it across the outside of my pants. I shook before her. The smile grew on her luscious lips.
“I wasn’t given a lot of information, just told an artist wanted to paint my body, it was safe, it pays a lot of money, and I’d need to sign confidentiality forms,” she said with a little pout. “I wasn’t told how turned on it would make me or that the artist would look like you.”
I didn’t say anything. I was on the verge of doing something foolish.
“We’re finished now. This was a test to see if this is something I want to pursue,” I said, not able to keep the huskiness from my tone.
“And do you want to pursue it?” she asked, her fingers rubbing across the front of me. I didn’t stop her.
“Yes.” I kept it simple. I should turn.
“Is the paint safe on my skin?” She was rubbing the top of my pants, playing with the button without undoing it, torturing me.
“Of course,” I told her.
“So I can have it on me and do . . . things,” she said with a seductive pause.
“You can do whatever you want,” I said. “But you’ll need to wash it off before you go. I don’t want anyone aware of this until it’s been unveiled.” My eyes moved down her body. She was stunning. My arousal throbbed as she rubbed against it.
She smiled again and licked her lips before she gracefully dropped to her knees.
I didn’t stop her.
She slowly undid my pants and gasped as she pulled my erection free. I was hard and throbbing. The tip was wet with anticipation. She licked her lips as she looked up at me, her eyes hungry.
“Will you fuck me?” she asked. She was reading the hesitation in my face.
“No,” I said through gritted teeth.
She didn’t seem fazed or disappointed. She had seemed very aware of what my answer would be.
She gripped my hardness tight with one hand as she kneeled before me, her legs spreading open. She began to stroke me, using my pre-come to lubricate my solid length. With her other hand she reached between her legs and began rubbing herself, groans escaping her painted throat.
Then she closed her mouth over me and sucked hard as she hummed against me. I reached down and braced myself against her dark hair, gripping it tightly in my fingers as she sucked me hard, pulling me deeper into her hot mouth as she squeezed my base with her tight grip.
Her other hand fluttered against herself, her fingers moving faster. Her moans vibrated through my dick as she licked and sucked me. I felt my pleasure build. I didn’t hold back.
I released with an almost violent explosion, and she took it all down her throat as she opened her mouth wide and yelled while she found her own release. She licked the last of my pleasure off me before opening her mouth.
She stood on wobbly knees and licked her swollen lips.
“Anytime, anywhere,” she said. “I’m willing to be your canvas.”
I nearly grabbed her, feeling my dick twitch with the need to bend her over the table and thrust inside her. I’d found my release, but I was hungry. I wanted more. I just wasn’t ready to take it that far.
“Take a shower and you can leave,” I told her.
I turned and walked away. I didn’t even know her name. I decided I didn’t need to. I took the stairs, needing to burn off my frustration. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I’d forgotten it was there.
I stopped midway down and looked at the screen. There was a missed call from Miranda. I was sure Audrey had told her where I was. I was sure she was suspicious of what I’d been doing.
Should I tell her? Should I end this now? Yes. The answer was clear. It would be better for both of us if I did. But as I pulled up her number and dialed, I knew I wasn’t going to do that.
She said hello and I changed the tone of my voice, feeling guilty talking to her so soon after another woman’s lips had been circled around my dick.
“Sorry, Miranda, I was in a meeting,” I easily lied, not giving her a chance to ask what I was doing.
“Oh, I just wanted to see if you wanted to join Audrey and me for lunch,” she said. She sounded falsely cheerful.
I forced a laugh I didn’t feel. “You girls giggle and gossip the entire time. I think I’ll pass.”
“Why are you out of breath?” she asked. “You said you were at a meeting not the gym.” I stopped moving. I couldn’t exactly tell her I was out of breath because I’d just had an incredible blow job and was still horny as hell.
“I’m at an apartment building downtown, and I decided to use the stairs instead of the elevator. I realized I’m not getting enough exercise.”
She paused for a moment before that false cheer appeared in her voice again. “Oh. You had a meeting at an apartment building?”
“They have a great little community here; restaurants, coffee shops, and meeting spaces,” I told her. It was true though I hadn’t seen any of them.
“Oh, where is it? Now I’m curious,” she said. I knew she was suspicious. She had every right to be.
I explained where the place was, though I knew she was very aware of the location. There was no way Audrey hadn’t told her exactly where I was and exactly who I was with. Audrey wouldn’t have recognized Bella as she’d never seen her before, but she would have seen a beautiful woman throw her arms around me before taking me to an apartment.
If I hadn’t allowed the blow job to happen I could have walked away feeling great about my day, feeling accomplished. I’d taken a new turn with my career. I was doing somet
hing that hadn’t been done before. I was doing something that would sell.
Sex sold after all, it made billions and billions of dollars worldwide. I was just figuring out a way to combine my love of art and sex — and I was making it work.
But I’d taken it too far. I knew that. I had cheated though. I’d taken something beautiful and made it adulterous.
We hung up and I took a long walk. I couldn’t go home for a long time. I couldn’t face Miranda. I wasn’t sure what I’d do. But when I got there she wasn’t home. She didn’t get home until late, and I was in bed. I didn’t say a word to her.
She snuggled up to my back, and I felt a content sigh escape me. We might be finished in most ways in our marriage, but this moment right here — with her pressed against my back, her hand resting against my side — this was the moment I always looked forward to. This was why I stayed. This was why she stayed.
It wasn’t sexual; it wasn’t even physical. It was about security. She was important to me. I knew I was important to her. But at the end of the day it didn’t matter. I had no doubt whatsoever that I was going to lose her.
Chapter Fourteen
I will never forget the day Miranda met Kaden Alexander. Ah, I see you’re surprised. She didn’t think I knew about him. You didn’t think I knew about him. Of course you didn’t. That’s why I had to tell my story too. I had to show you that neither one of us is evil. We’re normal. We’re human. We made and continue to make mistakes.
Yes, I knew about Kaden. My own weakness prevented me from doing anything about it. I’m not a weak man. I didn’t want Miranda anymore. But I also didn’t want to let her go. It didn’t make sense to me. I’m sure she dealt with the same feelings I was dealing with.
I was sitting with Miranda’s father and her best friend the day she graduated college. She took a long time to go to school, but once she started she put everything into it. I’m glad she did. I’m glad she has that in her life.
I’m not sure how I feel about it leading to her relationship with Kaden. Maybe part of me felt and still feels relief. Maybe there’s still something human within me. I think it slowly ebbs out of me day by day.