My Weakness

by Alison Mello

  “But not everyone is like that. Some women only like sex once a week, once a month, not at all. Or they only want it in certain positions. Or they won’t play and experiment. Would you deny your husband the experience of trying something out just because you didn’t like the thought of it?”

  “If that involved being intimate with another woman, then yes.”

  “Coming from the woman who won’t commit? Yet you speak about it like you’re experienced in the area.”

  My jaw clenched as I hardened my stare on him. “You pompous bastard. How dare you.”

  I stomped towards the door, my anger boiling once more. As I passed him, he grabbed my arm.

  “Ky…”

  Before I knew what I was doing, my hand reached out, slapping him across the face with a hell of a crack. His grip loosened and I shook his touch from me, reaching for the door handle.

  “Ky, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just trying to make you see it’s not like you think it is.”

  “Why is that so important to you?”

  “Because I liked the time we spent together.”

  My heart flipped upside down at his confession. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A deep ache began to grow in my chest as I thought of his touch, his kiss, his skin against mine. That one simple sentence made me question my own beliefs, the whole point of my being mad at him.

  I opened my eyes to see him stood within arm’s reach, his eyes sweeping me up in their captivating gaze once again. “I…”

  “We had fun, right? We enjoyed our time together? Why should my parents’ business stop us enjoying each other?”

  My arguments melted into oblivion and I became lost in a hazy ocean between his twinkling eyes and his silk laden voice. “I…I’ll think about it.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” He grinned before giving me a cheeky wink. “I’ll give you a week.”

  I narrowed my eyes at his reference to our conversation on Saturday. Snorting at him, I strode out of the door, muttering various curses under my breath as I headed for the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, my mind wandered back to what happened in here a mere few days ago.

  A deep yearning grumbled in my gut as I struggled between my head and my heart. I knew I didn’t need his complications in my life but my God, I did want him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Paul disappeared down to Devon with Mr. Collins for most of the week. It was a blessing in disguise because it left me to clear my head without his presence sending my hormones into overdrive. I couldn’t deny I craved his touch, his mouth on mine, his hands roaming over my body. Just the mere thought of him had me in hot flushes.

  Ash spent most of the week convincing me to pick up where we left off. My heart and head were in a constant tug of war, which was frustrating enough without him trying to nudge me in one direction.

  I decided over lunch with Molly to ask for her opinion.

  “Do you remember what it was like before you met Chris?”

  “Yeah, course I do.”

  “Did you feel bad about your history when you met him?”

  She giggled. “You mean all the guys I’ve been with?”

  I nodded, smirking.

  “No. I had to have a life before him. It’s not like he’s a virgin either.”

  “Do you ever miss it? Your life before him?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t need to miss anything. That was just amusement, fun, whilst I waited for the right guy.”

  I smiled, nodding. Her words made sense.

  “Why do you ask?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I just know that this thing with Paul isn’t going to go anywhere and I don’t know whether to cut it off now or carry on until I meet the right guy.”

  She squealed in excitement. “Are you thinking about settling down?”

  “Eventually, yes. But I don’t want to get all caught up with Paul only to be knocked back when I have to end it for someone else.”

  “Maybe he’ll change his mind. You never know.”

  “Not likely. Trust me.”

  “Well.” She reached across, gripping my forearm in excitement. “Chris has a younger brother who is single. He is lurvly. You will love him!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Molly, seriously!”

  “Trust me, you will love him. He’s gorgeous, charming, funny, a true gent, and he’s loaded. You get the whole package you get with Paul except he wants commitment so he’s better.”

  I laughed. “And probably got a micro penis.”

  She spluttered on her drink as I said it. “If Chris is anything to go by, then definitely not.”

  “TMI, Molly. TMI!”

  Grinning, she continued on. “Well, he’s back from America in the next couple of weeks so maybe you can happen to come by the house when he’s back.”

  “We’ll see.”

  ***

  By the time Friday arrived, I was still tussling with myself, no definitive answer to give to Paul when he returned this morning. Both Ash and Molly seemed to have the opinion that having fun whilst waiting for Mr. Right was fine. Molly didn’t know the full story behind it all, though, and I was worried about being sucked into the whole thing. Ash seemed to think it was some sort of adventure and I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity.

  I decided I would just go with the flow. Whatever scenario arose with Paul, I would just deal with it at the time. I didn’t want to prepare for one thing and something else happen instead. He walked in just after nine o’clock, flashing me a dazzling smile before he went to his office.

  My heart started thudding the second I saw him. I began to wonder whether this was something I had to get out of my system so I could consider meeting Mr. Right. If I cut it off now, I would always be having these reactions to him. I couldn’t be with someone else if I kept feeling things like this for him. It would be wrong and wouldn’t sit right with me.

  I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even register him staring at me from his open doorway until he spoke.

  “You coming?”

  I looked up in surprise at hearing his voice and those words. What they meant in my head with my current train of thought meant the complete opposite to what he intended.

  “Sorry?”

  His eyes held a mischievous glow. “We need to talk. You’ve not spoken to me all week. I think we need to settle this, don’t we?”

  I blushed and nodded. I took a deep breath and stood up, smoothing out my clothes before making my way towards the delicious specimen of a man before me.

  He didn’t move from the doorway, only turning slightly so I could get inside. I brushed his body as I walked past. It was impossible not to do so. I knew he’d done it on purpose.

  I turned around to face him as he closed the door and snapped the blinds shut.

  “So, how many women did you find in Devon?”

  He grinned. “Anyone would think you were jealous, Kyra.”

  I snorted. “Jealous of what exactly?”

  He closed the gap between us with a couple of steps. “Let’s face it, you can’t resist me. You don’t want to admit it but you want to give in, don’t you?”

  I scanned over his handsome face. My heart was already picking up speed, my chest tightening. “You’re very cocky.”

  He winked. “You would know…”

  I narrowed my eyes as I began to think of what he was hiding underneath those perfectly fitted clothes. This was his intention all along, and I hated to be giving in to him—mentally, not physically.

  As I raged an internal battle with myself, he brought his hand to my arm. His eyes met mine as he traced it across my skin, leaving a trail of shivers in its wake.

  I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the surges of tingles his singular touch sent through me. Before I knew what was happening, his soft lips were on my neck. He left a trail of gentle kisses across my skin before his hands picked at my blouse, easing each button from its home. His mouth cont
inued to induce me into a sensual filled world as he made his way further down my chest.

  His hands wound their way around my back and he stepped us backwards. I met the cool surface of the wall just when the last of my buttons popped undone. My breaths came in short, shallow rasps as he peeled my bra from me. I opened my eyes to meet his own dancing with lust and desire. He inched kisses across my exposed chest, tickling me with his tongue. Fierce shudders shot straight between my legs and I had to bite my lip to contain my moans of joy.

  His attention wandered to my pencil skirt, unzipping it in less than a second. My mind begged him to delve inside my underwear. I needed to feel him, skin to skin. His fingers stroking my sensitive spots would be all I needed to melt into a pool at his feet.

  His luscious lips began to work their way further south as he inched my lacy thong down my legs. I began trembling in expectation of where his delightful mouth was now heading. My hands found his silky hair, running through it when a groan escaped me. He eased my underwear over my feet. Parting my legs with his hands, his lips placed delicate kisses at the top of my thighs.

  His touch left my body for a few seconds, leaving me a quivering mess in front of him. When his mouth clamped down over my tingling sweet spot, my knees buckled. Drawing mind numbing patterns over me with his tongue, it didn’t take long for me to submit to him. His strong arms caught me when my legs finally gave way. He held me up as he searched my eyes for a few seconds before kissing my throbbing spot with a grin.

  I opened my eyes in a haze of stars, my head still spinning. I think he’d just clarified which direction this was going to go.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I spent the rest of the day on an unbelievable high. In pure Paul style, just as home time came around, he squashed any good feelings I enjoyed by revealing he was working tonight. The disdainful scowl that spread across my face said everything.

  “You know I won’t be sleeping with anyone else, Kyra. Just relax.”

  My internal war raged once again, making me wonder whether I could actually do this or not.

  “It just feels wrong, Paul. You’re going to be in a house full of gorgeous women who are all up for anything that goes. It’s just…weird.”

  He quieted for a minute. “Kyra, I don’t want to make an issue out of this. You are reacting to this like we’re in a relationship. It shouldn’t matter what I do when we’re not together; that’s the beauty of not being with someone like that. This is a perfect example of what I was talking about when I said I don’t do relationships.”

  His words cut deep as he confirmed yet again he wasn’t interested in anything more than this “friends with benefits” situation. I knew we weren’t together but I still couldn’t help a tiny bit of hope rising that my Friday night would be filled with sex with my fuck buddy.

  I grabbed my stuff before heading for the door. “Okay. Fine. But don’t expect me to jump when you click your fingers.”

  I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night, which resulted in more hate-fuelled thoughts running round me. The more I thought about him and what he was doing whilst I was sat at home alone, the worse it got.

  Saturday, I went for lunch with Ash, moaning to him about the recent happenings.

  “You need to grasp the whole idea of this fuck buddy thing. If you can’t deal with it, then I think you need to reconsider.”

  “But fuck buddies are usually at it at the weekends, are they not? That’s what most people do on a weekend. Except me, of course, because mine is too busy wanking over other people getting fucked.”

  Ash laughed. “So join in, then. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!”

  “Seriously? Don’t go there again.”

  His amused expression changed to a serious edge. “Have you heard from Mum?”

  I narrowed my eyes as my jaw clenched. “No.”

  “I know she’d love to hear from you…”

  “Well, she has my contact details. It works both ways.”

  He left the subject alone after that, departing not long after to trek down to London for Ben’s set tonight in the club. By four o’clock, I was back home, alone.

  I sighed and resigned myself to going through old photo albums, reminiscing. It was a terrible idea as all I ended up doing was crying and wishing things had worked out differently. If only Dad hadn’t died, if only Scotch hadn’t died, if only Mum hadn’t married a toy boy and moved abroad, if only we still had a good relationship. If only, if only, if only; those two words were the story of my life.

  Tim, Mum’s toy boy, was a good-looking guy. He was a proper cowboy and a damn fine one at that. The problem was he knew it. The age gap between them was nearly twenty years and I’d never quite figured out why he married my mum. Mum was gorgeous for her age. She took great pride in her appearance and she definitely didn’t look her fifty-two years. She had been married to him for two years now and we hadn’t actually spoken since the wedding.

  The reason for that was that her delightful new husband deemed it appropriate to make a move on me, his new step-daughter, on his wedding night. He earned himself a kick in the nuts and me telling my mother what happened. She saw it all as a bunch of lies and me just reacting badly to her re-marrying. The smug look on his face when I left their ranch to fly back home was something that would always haunt me.

  It had been too long now for either my mum or me to give in and pick up the phone. It hurt that she hadn’t believed me and it hurt that she picked him over me.

  Ash didn’t know where to be in regards to it all, so he kept out of it. He liked Tim and didn’t know whether to believe me or not. Like me, though, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t catch a woman his own age.

  I was lost in my thoughts and beating down my rising anger when my phone chimed with a text.

  Paul: Are you busy tonight? XXX

  I snorted and ignored him. An hour later, I received another text.

  Paul: I would love to see you. ;-) xxx

  I hadn’t forgotten my warning to him yesterday about expecting me to jump when he clicked his fingers. So again, I ignored him. Not in the mood for cooking, I ordered Chinese. Several minutes later, a knock sounded on the front door. I frowned thinking how the food couldn’t even be cooked yet.

  I opened the door, rolling my eyes at seeing Paul stood there.

  “Hi.”

  “What do you want?”

  He smiled. “I came to see you.”

  “No, you didn’t. You came here thinking you could get lucky after you ditched me last night. I thought I made myself quite clear when I said I wouldn’t be jumping when you clicked your fingers.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. I can see this is a bad time.”

  I raised an eyebrow as a response.

  “Okay. I’ll…see you on Monday.”

  “Yep.”

  I slammed the door shut, feeling rather proud of myself. I’d barely sat down before my phone beeped with another text.

  Paul: You know I could make you feel better. ;-) xxx

  I smirked at his words and persistence but I refused to give in. I had to make a point. He couldn’t control me like a dog.

  Me: Doesn’t mean you will. See you Monday.

  Chapter Twenty

  I heard nothing more from Paul. When I arrived at work Monday morning, I had a note on my desk detailing he was out for the day. I smirked, wondering if this was due to my rejection of him. I paid little attention to the thought since tomorrow I was dress shopping with Molly. I was excited and also dreading it a bit as she was a fiend when it came to clothes.

  The next morning, with still no word from Paul overnight, I’d barely stepped out the shower before she was banging on my front door like a woman possessed—half an hour early.

  After a rather speedy drive, which had me thanking my lucky stars I was still alive, we were stood in a rather exquisite shop being tended to by a lady who reminded me of my nan. Her five-foot height, glasses on a chain, and green tartan suit made me wan
t to offer her cups of tea. Molly was working her way through the rails of dresses at a rate of knots.

  “Ky, why don’t you find something you like?”

  I did a double take. “What?”

  “I can’t be the only one having fun. Come on, what harm could it do?”

  I scratched my head, frowning. “I’m supposed to give you opinions on your dresses? Not only that but I think I’m missing the key ingredient that would require me to try on a wedding dress.”

  She laughed. “Oh, come on. Stop being a spoilsport. We’re supposed to be having a girly day.”

  I sighed, giving in. I picked my way through all the silky dresses, almost becoming swept up in the emotion of dress hunting. I stumbled across a lace dress, an off-white colour. It was off the shoulder and had two layers that crisscrossed each other. It trailed down to the floor in its simple style.

  “That’s gorgeous,” Molly breathed from behind me. “Go try it on.”

  I looked up to see her with a handful of varying dresses as she disappeared in her changing room. I nibbled my lip, wondering if it would be so wrong just to try it on. Joan, the shop assistant, had run off after Molly. I shot into the spare booth, feeling giddy with excitement at trying on my first wedding dress.

  The smooth fabric slid over my body and I began to feel a sense of reality settling within me. I dared to look in the full-length mirror, admiring the fitted design hugging all my curves. A small amount of material pooled at my feet and the off the shoulder design drew attention to my bare neck and chest. I fiddled with my hair band, letting my hair loose. I scrunched some up and some down, becoming lost in my own reflection painting me as a picture of seductive elegance.

  Molly’s screeching voice came from outside. “Are you done yet?”

  I drew back the curtain, trying to hide my grin.

  “Oh wow. Ky, you look absolutely amazing. You have to buy that dress.”