Marriage Mistake

by Lively, R. S.

  There’s a sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, but it lasts only a few seconds before Grant takes the tank top and peels it over my head. His fingers work deftly to release the front clasp of my lacy rose-colored bra, and I sit up to maneuver myself out of it. The air brushes over my bare skin, and I’m instantly aware of how easily we could be exposed. But I don’t care. Right now, the only thing that matters is Grant, and the way his dark eyes drink me in, scanning my body like he’s been waiting a lifetime to see, and worship it.

  Grant dips his head and touches a kiss to the middle of my belly, just beneath my navel. I draw in a breath, and he lifts his head to smile at me. Wordlessly, he continues his progress until he reaches the low-slung waistband of my shorts. His tongue dips down beneath the fabric, tracing a path from one hipbone to the other. I’ve never been a tall, willowy girl, but Grant licks and nibbles his way across my body like it’s even more delectable than the ice cream he’s ordered nearly every day. I remember the way his tongue swept the melting cream into his mouth that day, and I know just how that ice cream must have felt. I’m melting beneath the heat of him, and every fiber of my being is awake and attentive, ready for more.

  I feel the button on the front of my shorts release, and the pressure of the fabric lessen as Grant lowers my zipper. Lifting my hips, I let him slide my shorts down my legs and toss them away from us. The panties I’m wearing are little more than a scrap of lace to match my bra, and he gathers the damp fabric away from my body in one movement.

  Suddenly, I feel vulnerable. I’m stretched out on the blanket in front of him, completely bare, and Grant hasn’t taken off a single article of his own clothing. I want to cover myself, and yet, I don’t want to obstruct him from staring at me so intently.

  Instead, I reach for his shirt and tug on it. He gives me a playful smile, and pretends he doesn’t know what I want for a few seconds, but cuts the teasing short and mercifully pulls off his shirt. He leans down to kiss me as he supports himself with one hand and removes his pants with the other. Just before he pushes them the entire way off his hips, he dips his hand into his pocket and comes up with a condom. Grant smiles and kisses me again, quickly heating me back up. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close. I’m very aware of the pressure and weight of his erection against me, and I lift my hips up slightly to feel more of it.

  Grant rocks forward, letting his cock run across my belly. I gasp at the feeling, my mind anticipating what’s coming, imagining how it will feel with that long, thick length filling me. For a moment I wonder if I should tell him I’m a virgin. He knows. I know he does. But part of me wonders if I should confirm his suspicions. I wonder if it would change anything.

  The sound of the condom wrapper ripping stops the thoughts rushing through my mind, and Grant’s eyes meet mine. He might be searching for hesitation, or for a sign, but I don’t say anything. Grant sits back and I watch, my mouth practically watering, as he sets the condom on the tip of his cock, and rolls it down to settle at the base. I expect him to come back down on top of me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sets his hand down in the center of my belly, pressing down slightly as if to calm me.

  I’m still shaking as he draws his hand down further, turning it to rest between my hip bones. His fingertip dips down, and I cry out at the sudden rush of intense sensation that courses through me. Grant puts one finger to his lips.

  “Shhh,” he whispers.

  He draws his finger down, then lowers his head so I can feel his breath on my hot, wet folds. His finger settles at my entrance as he kisses the insides of my thighs, then dips it slightly inside. My body seems to close around it, unsure of the unfamiliar intrusion, but Grant pushes a little deeper and brings his mouth between my thighs to flick his tongue over my sensitive clit. In a rush, my body gets wetter, and relaxes slightly.

  Grant withdraws his finger, and I whimper my protest at the sudden feeling of emptiness. His eyes meet mine as he rises over me and replaces his finger with the tip of his cock. Grant lowers his mouth to mine, his tongue slipping through my lips, tangling with mine as he rocks his hips forward to slowly sink into me.

  I draw in a sharp breath, but he keeps his mouth tightly on mine. His engorged cock meets resistance, and he pauses, allowing me to accommodate him, before pushing the rest of the way forward. A sharp pain gives way to a feeling of being stretched open, and Grant stops. He keeps his hips pushed against me, his body filling mine to capacity. I’m overwhelmed by the sensation, and my body tenses. Grant takes his mouth from mine, resting our foreheads together. He soothes me with his voice, making me feel safe and comforted. After a few seconds, my body starts to relax, and I can feel my tight walls settle around him.

  Grant’s hips begin to move, massaging me. I thought I held as much of him within me as I could, but as he glides, he slips in even deeper. Soon the pain gives way to warm, all-consuming pleasure. I cling to him, my hands gripping his back as sounds pour from my mouth. Sweat makes our bodies slide easily against each other, and my hips begin to answer his with little lifts and circles as I seek out as much of the pleasure as possible.

  I feel like I’m close to losing control as a wave of intense pressure builds within me. Tingling sensations reach my fingertips and toes, and in an earth-shattering crash, I collapse into a cascade of spasms that shake my entire body. Grant kisses me harder to muffle the cries bubbling up my throat, and thrusts into me even harder and faster than before. Suddenly, he slams into me and holds, his cock getting harder for a moment before pulsing to meet my pulsating walls around him.

  I feel him groan against my lips, and he pulls his mouth away to gasp for air. Beginning to thrust again slowly, Grant gradually lowers down until he’s stretched on top of me, reaching down for my hand. Our fingers intertwine as his head rests on my chest; his lips kissing my dampened skin. I try to savor every detail of what’s happening. I want to remember the way he felt, tasted, and smelled. But even as I try to memorize everything I experienced, the adrenaline slides away, and relaxation takes its place. My eyes close, and I feel myself drifting off to sleep.

  When I wake up, I don't know how long I've been out. I'm not sure what drew me out of my slumber, and it takes a few seconds for me to register the sound of jumbled voices beneath me. The movie is over, and the audience is scrambling out of their seats, streaming out of the theater like there is anywhere else to go in Magnolia Falls this late at night. I know some of them are likely headed for the Chew-Chew Diner, in which case their hurrying might be justified. The old converted train car can only hold so many people and still have room for the wildly inaccurate Wild West bandit show that happens every thirty minutes.

  Flashes of the delicious dream I just had flicker through my mind, and I feel my stomach flutter. My body is humming, my lips swollen, and reality dawns on me. Beside me I hear a low groan, and I look over to see Grant's face a few inches from mine.

  It wasn't a dream.

  I really did have sex with Grant Laurence, and am now lying naked with him, curled up in his old picnic blanket on the ridge above the drive-in. His eyes flutter open, and he gives me a warm, satisfied smile. Leaning forward, he presses a lazy kiss to my lips. His hand slides up my thigh and into the dip of my waist, then over my breast before cupping around my face to hold it in place as he deepens the kiss.

  I wonder if my English Composition I class will have a "What I Did Over Summer Break" assignment? I have a great essay idea.

  * * *

  Grant

  Two days later…

  The smile on Emma's face tells me she's happy to see me standing on her front porch, and I instantly feel sick. That smile has been in my mind for the last two weeks. If I'm going to be completely honest, it's been there for almost four years. I've had my eye on her since then, but it was easy to resist her when we were younger. I should have kept my hands off her. Two weeks ago, I should have just gone to the ice cream stand, said hello, and walked away. But I didn't. The instant I saw her, now an a
dult, and even more confident, smiling at me from the window as the wind blew her hair around her face, I lost it. I had to see her and spend more time with her, and the more I did, the more addicted to her I became. And now I have to say goodbye.

  "Hi," she says as she steps through the storm door and out onto the porch. "This is a nice surprise."

  "I'm sorry I didn't call first," I say.

  Emma shakes her head.

  "No, don't be sorry. It's fine. Do you want to come inside?"

  She looks up at me like she wants me to kiss her, her big blue eyes locked on my mouth as she bites into her plump, pink bottom lip. I want to oblige her. I wish I could sweep her into my arms and see if her mouth tastes as sweet as it looks right now. I know it does, actually.

  But I can't. That's not why I'm here.

  "Thanks, but I can't," I explain. "I don't have much time. I actually have to get going."

  Emma's face drops slightly.

  "Going?" she asks.

  "Yeah," I tell her, pushing through the words I don't want to say. "I have to head back to school."

  The smile is completely gone from her face now, and her body tenses. I can feel the discomfort and painful emotions radiating from her already. And it's just going to get worse.

  "You're leaving?" she asks. "I thought your classes didn’t start for a few more weeks."

  "I know," I say. "I'm president of my fraternity on campus, and there are some events before classes start that I have to be there for."

  The words sound flat as they come out of my mouth. The way she looks at me makes my stomach knot. I've never felt more like an entitled rich prick in my life than I do right now under the searing stare of those wide blue eyes.

  "Oh," she says. Her voice is unnaturally bouncy as she forces herself to sound breezy and casual. "Yeah, your fraternity. I totally understand. Important priorities."

  This isn't what I want to do. I know I'm hurting her, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about this for the last two days, ever since I reluctantly pulled away from her naked body and watched her dress. I know what she's thinking – that this was the beginning of something more. I’m crushing that for her. The reality is, I'm crushing myself, too. The feelings I have for Emma are stronger than ever, but after spending the last two days with my brothers still in Magnolia Falls, I came to the conclusion that my sense of responsibility had to be stronger.

  I know how hard Emma has worked her entire life to get where she is now. She pushed herself every second to accomplish more and create the opportunities she needed. Now they are just within her reach. A few more weeks and she’ll finally get rewarded for everything she sacrificed in high school. She'll get out of Magnolia Falls and get a glimpse of what else life has to offer.

  There's no way I can take that from her. Emma deserves the world, and I can't get in the way of it. I know there is more ahead of me, too. I graduate at the end of this year, but then there’s graduate studies, and more. I haven't made those decisions. Not yet. But the point is, I need to focus on school, and so does she. We can't distract each other from our goals. Not right now. Maybe one day we'll find each other again, but for now, we have to go our separate ways.

  "Good luck in school," I say. "I know you are going to do an amazing job. The world won’t know what hit it."

  She forces a tense smile.

  "Thanks," she says.

  "I hope we run into each other next time we're both home," I say.

  Emma nods, but doesn't respond. I want to touch her one last time. I want to gather her into a hug and squeeze her tight to remember once I put the island behind me and return to campus. But I can't. If I do, I'll never leave. Her eyes sparkle with tears, and her jaw is set so hard, I can see the muscles twitching beneath her skin as I stare down at her for a few seconds longer, wave, then walk away.

  Chapter Two

  Grant

  Ten years later…

  Bucket List for Kurt Nemeth:

  Dance naked on top of the Eiffel Tower. Take exotic dance lessons from three French women, meet up at the replica Eiffel Tower in Doswell, Virginia, and perform a flash mob in a flesh-colored bodysuit. Notes: Misunderstood instructions. Court date pending.

  Have a picnic lunch with sharks. Feed sharks after a picnic. Notes: Accomplished. Confirmed sharks do not enjoy peanut butter and jelly.

  Kiss the Blarney Stone. Notes: Accomplished

  Host a circus with all-human versions of traditional animals performing tricks. Notes: Accomplished. Bonus checks are in the mail.

  Build a replica antique snow globe large enough for a sustainable living environment for two people, and a snow machine that swirls snow and plays music at regular intervals. Notes: Fuck.

  Battle a raging wildfire to the admiration and exaltation of friends, family, and strangers. Light a recreated town and prop trees on fire and battle it under the supervision of firefighters. Notes: Currently in progress.

  Wage marine battle against invading pirates, usurp their leader, and sail the open seas in search of treasure. Notes: TBD.

  Positioning my cursor next to the notes on item number six on my client's bucket list, I erase "Currently in progress," and replace it with "Accomplished." The smell of the smoke still lingers in my nostrils even though Kurt put out the last of the flames more than two hours ago. Kurt and seventeen members of the local fire department who swooped in after the forty-nine-year-old’s war cries turned into just plain cries. He bounced back nicely, though. By the time we were back to his hotel, he was already regaling me with the magnificent tale of taking down the towering flames as if I hadn't been standing behind the protective glass, watching him lose all control of the fire hose and knock over three of the firefighters as they approached.

  My eyes scan down to the last item on the list, and I let out a long sigh. Since my brothers, Dean and Preston, and I started DreamMakers, Inc., I’ve had my share fair of strange requests from clients. Over the last few years, I’ve developed a very unique perspective on what lurks around in the dark corners of people's minds. Some of my clients have been wildly creative and dreamed up some amazing scenarios that even I wanted to slip in and be a part of.

  Others… are like Kurt.

  The phone rings, and I stare at it reluctantly for a few seconds. Kurt had been exhausted at the end of the firefighting escapade, and I was hoping he would rest at his hotel for a few hours, or at the very least, try to pick up some unsuspecting woman in the hotel bar with stories of his bravado. I'm sure by the time he has a few shots in him, the fire will have been real, and he will have saved all of the firefighters single-handedly while also rescuing two kittens from nearby trees.

  The phone rings again. I really don't want to be on the receiving end of his self-important CEO voice right now. The way Kurt puffs out his chest and adds as much bass as possible to his voice when "calling a meeting" with me is insufferable.

  The phone rings again. I can't keep ignoring it forever. Snatching it from my desk, I briefly glance at the screen before answering it. A sense of relief washes over me when I see my brother's name instead of Kurt's.

  "Hey, Dean," I answer.

  "Ignoring your client again?" my younger brother chides.

  "I would never do such a thing," I say. "I am a consummate professional who treats all my clients with equal attention and respect, even when they are punk-ass whiners who had too much money shoved in their piggy banks."

  "Didn't you also have too much money shoved in your piggy bank?" Dean asks.

  "Yes, but I didn't turn out like him. I actually used it for something."

  Our parents are still coming to terms with the fact that not a single one of their five sons decided to continue the family business. To be fair, it was never something they've pushed on us. Although I’m still waiting for the dramatic boardroom meeting where our father's face gets progressively redder as he slams his fists on the table, calls us ungrateful, and demands we respect the legacy built by his father before him. I'm fairly certa
in that my parents being understanding and supportive is a facade to cover their deep-seated belief we are “going through a phase” with our business and will eventually make our way back to Magnolia Falls.

  "Speaking of which, how did the Great Fake Fire of 2018 go this morning?"

  "It went as well as could be expected, I guess. Seth did the final coordination of it, so at least we knew it would be safe. He even brought in a few of his stunt performers to play townspeople running for their lives."

  My youngest brother, Seth, handles the most outrageous and dangerous requests. If it involves anything with the word "extreme” or seems like it might be what will get a client to their bucket, Seth is involved.

  "That's a nice touch," Dean says.

  "Yeah. It would have been more effective if Kurt had tried to rescue any of them rather than running away from two of them and screaming at another for getting in his way while he was trying to hose down the General Store. I enjoyed watching them, though," I tell him.

  He chuckles. "It sounds like you must be looking forward to your time off," Dean says.

  "I definitely am," I tell him. "I need it."

  When I’m done with this client, I plan on taking a break for the first time in almost a year.

  "Are you still planning on meeting us in Magnolia Falls for Homecoming in a couple months?" he asks. "Or are you going to be totally rested out by that point?"

  "I'll be there," I say. "At this point, I don't think I could get enough vacation."

  "So, you're actually up for some nostalgia? Hometown memories?"

  "I’m definitely up for it," I tell him. "I'm looking forward to getting back and seeing everyone. It's been way too long since we've all been home at the same time."