The Devil's Contract

by Claire Contreras

  It had been two days since she’d last seen him, and during the reprieve, she decided she would tell him the truth. She had to. She couldn’t lie to him about something so big. It wouldn’t be fair. That night she lay in bed wide awake, looking at her cell phone, at the last text message he’d sent her: You coming over tonight?

  She’d replied with a decline and a sad face, and he didn’t argue. He usually never did. He respected her boundaries and knew that sometimes she liked having her space so that she could draw up sketches or paint. Amara loved to paint, and it was becoming more infrequent that she could indulge herself. She exhaled heavily, turning her body on the bed to look at her easel. She could get up and brush a few strokes, and maybe that would ease her mind. It usually worked. Deep down, Amara knew that the only thing that could help would be to talk to Colin.

  It was midnight when she decided to get up and head over to his place. She simply couldn’t wait until the morning. She would just tell him everything as soon as she got there and “rip the Band-Aid off.” She would remind him that they were never in a “committed” relationship anyway, that they had only jokingly made plans of the future together, and that it was time to let go... for a while.

  Amara had all of her arguments organized until she arrived at Colin’s apartment and stood in front of his door waiting for him to answer. He didn’t have a shirt on and was still rubbing his eyes when he opened the door for her. Amara’s eyes drank him in, appreciating his low riding, flannel pajama pants. Her eyes followed his defined arms when he raised them to brush his hair out of his face, and she took a deep breath. She would miss being able to touch him whenever she wanted to. Colin yawned and stretched before letting out a low chuckle.

  “Are you going to come in?” he asked as he scratched his flat stomach.

  Amara nodded dumbly and stepped into his apartment. She looked around the spacious, open floor plan that overlooked Central Park and sighed quietly. She took in every detail of it—his dark hardwood floors, his navy and gray couches, the large black rug that didn’t match anything else in the apartment. Colin had a bookshelf that he used to store his cigars, a hobby he inherited from his father. Amara hated the smell of cigars, but she knew even that, she would miss.

  She felt Colin’s hands slide around her waist as they stood in his living room looking at the city lights, and sighed when his mouth found her bare shoulder. He placed chaste kisses from her shoulder to the curve of her neck as he nuzzled her skin. “I missed you,” he murmured. “I thought you were going to come here last night and again tonight.”

  Amara let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way he affected her. “We need to talk.”

  He dropped his arms in an instant and turned her body to face him.

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Amara blinked away from him. “We need to break up.”

  Colin grabbed her chin and made her look at him. Amara had practiced the speech in her head the entire ride over to his house and suddenly, instead of pacing herself, she was blurting everything out. She couldn’t seem to stop herself. The filter was conspicuously absent from her mouth, and the longer she looked into his serious brown eyes; the more she wanted to tell him. Rip off the Band-Aid, she kept reminding herself.

  “We need to break up?” Colin asked slowly before his mouth curved into a cocky grin. “I thought we weren’t official?”

  “Colin,” Amara groaned. Now wasn’t the time for his jokes. Colin’s face grew serious as he waited for her to explain. “Do you remember that guy... my dad’s friend—”

  “Philip?” Colin offered.

  Amara was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing completely. Of course Colin knew Philip—that wasn’t what shocked her—it was the fact that he hadn’t needed to think about it. She ran through her catalog of memories trying to figure out when she’d told him that Philip was that friend, and realized she had given his name.

  “Yes. He offered me a job in Paris,” she said, continuing quickly, before he could interrupt. “It’s a big PR firm. They have offices here, but the offer is two years in Paris, and they’re willing to pay for everything, and you know how hard I’ve worked for this.”

  “Did he now.” Colin’s response was neither a question nor a statement. It was more like a blank sentence, devoid of any emotion. Amara searched his eyes, trying to see how he had taken the news.

  “How did you know it was Philip?”

  Colin gave her a confused look. “Because you told me. Something about because your dad owing him something, you offered to work for him for a little while... Paris, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Amara said, smiling, relief unclenching her stomach.

  “And you’re okay with this?” The way those coffee bean-colored eyes searched hers made her uneasy.

  “Of course I am. I mean, Paris...”

  Colin stared at her intently. Just stared. He tried to crack her; she overrode the code and pasted a smile on her face, so he couldn’t see her lie.

  “That’s amazing, Mar. I looked into him once... he has a great company. It’ll be a good opportunity for you. Great for your resume,” he said finally. His voice was as gentle as his smile, and she felt the cracks begin to form over her heart.

  Amara watched the curve of his full lips as he smiled at her. Colin always smiled with confidence, as if he knew how devastating it was. Her eyes glazed over in unshed tears as she looked at him, thinking about how much she would miss that beautiful mouth.

  “Hey,” Colin whispered softly, bidding her eyes to meet his. “We don’t have to be over just because you’re going to Paris.”

  The way he said it made her want to believe him. He made her want to promise him that she would always be safe as long as he was in her life. He made her want to forget—forget her troubles, ignore her responsibilities, and just be with him. Yet she couldn’t. Vivienne told her there would be no relationships, and judging from the cold look in her eyes she had when she said it, Amara knew the woman had meant it.

  Amara struggled with words, so she took a moment to collect herself. “It does. Two years is a long time. I just... I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think I want to try to—“

  “We’ve known each other for seven years—were apart for most of those, and we survived just fine,” Colin interrupted.

  “It was easier before I ever had you.” she said.

  Colin nodded. “You’re right,” he said finally. “It would probably be easier to just end it now.”

  Amara kept her face impassive as her heart cracked into tiny little pieces. She had shown up there to break up with him, yet she was the one getting her heart broken.

  “It is,” she said with a weak smile.

  Colin pulled Amara into his chest, and she let him. She sagged into him when he tightened his hold around her, tucking her head down and willing her tears to stay at bay. Finally, when Amara felt she was strong enough, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back.

  “What will I do without you?” he murmured into her hair.

  She closed her eyes, shielding herself from the emotion in his voice.

  “Who will do my laundry?” he said, chuckling softly when she slapped his back playfully.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get it done,” Amara responded, her light tone contradicting the pain in her chest.

  Colin lowered his arms and trailed them slowly to her hips, backing away from her. “Who will keep me on my toes?” He lowered his head to meet her gaze.

  Her eyes welled with tears, and they scattered down her cheeks as she tried to blink them away. “Colin,” she whispered, wishing he would shut up.

  He leaned closer to her, brushing their lips together. “Who will laugh when I tell them about my awkward client meetings?” he whispered, his breath entering her slightly parted lips. “Who will be here to kiss away all the stress after a long day at work?”

  Colin kissed her then, his lips melding slowly with hers. His tongue stroked hers fluidly,
softly, in a way that made her chest swell with emotion, feeling as though it might burst. He walked her backwards into his bedroom, holding her back with one hand and cupping her face with the other. Always holding her, always caring for her. Amara held on to his arms, clutching the muscles that flexed as he moved.

  The room was dimly lit, with only the hallway lamp to shine in on them, but there was enough light for her to see his eyes clearly. His brown eyes had been the source of her sanity. Amara drank them in, humbled by the way he looked at her with such passion, such hunger. Like she was the only woman worth looking at. Now that she knew their time together was so short, she hated herself for taking it all for granted. Every day, every moment, every whisper, every touch they’d shared, she wished they could have just one more time.

  Colin traced her jaw, his fingertips grazing down her neck to her shoulders and down her slender arms. He gripped her wrists and held them.

  “Who will I make love to?” he asked, looking into her eyes. She wanted to die in that moment, at the thought of him with somebody else. She wanted to scream, cry, and hit him for watering the seed that had already been planted in her head.

  A mournful sob escaped her, and she didn’t even try to cover it. “Please stop,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Colin dipped his head and kissed her, still holding on to her wrists, and pushed her against the wall beside the door. He broke their kiss and raised her hands above her head, pinning them with one of his, as he made a trail of kisses down the side of her neck. Amara let out a desperate breath when he pulled away, her heart beating erratically as she whimpered for more.

  “Who else would react this way to my touch?” he asked in a low voice, as he brushed his palm down the front of her silky white blouse, his fingers unbuttoning it with precision.

  “Colin,” she gasped, her chest rising heavily as his hand disappeared into her shirt and cupped her exposed breasts, tweaking her nipples in a slow caress.

  “Hmmm?” he murmured, leaning into the curve of her neck and dropping open-mouthed kisses on her soft skin. He gripped her hands tighter over her head as she tried to wiggle out of his hold, wanting to touch him. Amara didn’t know how much longer she could take his teasing —she felt like her body was on fire. Colin enjoyed the gasps of pleasure she made, as he continued to trail his tongue to her collarbone. He increased the pressure on her senses, licking, sucking her sensitive skin before continuing his exploration of her body.

  “Colin, please,” Amara gasped. “Let go of my hands.”

  She didn’t mind that he was restraining her against his wall, but she was dying to touch him. She needed to touch him. Colin bobbed his head in agreement; his shaggy hair tickling her skin, but didn’t comply. He lifted his head and pinned her with the intensity in his eyes, then lowered his head and placed a kiss on her lips as his hand continued south until it reached the waistband of her jeans. Amara’s breath hitched as Colin tucked his hand inside to find her panties, rubbing her mound in slow, steady circles. Amara moaned out his name, and he pressed her harder against the wall, increasing his rhythm in response, never taking his eyes off of her. Colin smiled slightly as Amara gasped, her body igniting from the inside out, coiling with the need to explode over his fingers.

  “Who’s going to make you come like this, Amara?” His voice was hoarse against her throat.

  “No one,” she gasped.

  He switched the rhythm of his hand to a slower tempo, dragging out her need for release. Colin leaned in, nipping her neck softly, and Amara’s body shook with pleasure as an orgasm ripped through her. She cried out his name as her head thrashed from side to side, her eyes shut tightly as she rode it out. Amara pressed herself against his large hand so that his talented fingers worked every inch of her body available to him. He watched her in awe, his lips slightly parted, as his now-painful erection pressed against the confines of his pants. Colin released Amara’s hands and slowly slid his hand out of her panties. He unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her hips as Amara fought to regain her breath.

  Colin worked kisses over her flat stomach and continued to move lower until he was kneeling before her. When it came to Colin, she always wanted more, always craved more. Colin ran his tongue along her opening and groaned at the taste of her before gripping her bottom and sliding her up the wall to get better access. Amara gasped at the feel of his fingers digging into her flesh and threw her head back against the wall, shuddering when his tongue began to flick violently against her. Colin loosened his grip on Amara’s hips when he felt her hands tug his hair roughly. He began to suck on her methodically, in a way he knew drove her crazy.

  His hands inched slowly under her thighs until his thumbs reached the folds between her legs. He began to massage her slick, sensitive skin with his long fingers and slowed down his tongue movements, spending long moments laving attention where she liked it most. Soon, the rhythm and the overwhelming sensations became torturous, and Amara began to grind her hips against Colin’s mouth. Digging her hands harder into his hair, she pulled on it and screamed out his name as she exploded once more.

  “That’s it, baby,” Colin groaned against her heat.

  “Oh, God, Colin,” Amara cried out as her body clenched in uncontrollable aftershocks.

  Colin held her up as he watched her shake from her orgasm. If he had never before seen her beautiful smile, nor heard her melodic laughter, he’d think this was when Amara was the most beautiful. Her lips were parted, her head was thrown back, and long, shiny, dark hair fanned over her chest. Colin didn’t think he’d ever see any woman more amazing than the one he was holding in his hands, moaning out his name with such pleasure. He would wake up to her every morning, if given the chance. He stood, balancing her on his hips and pulled her away from the wall. As he lay her down in the middle of his bed, he stepped out of his pajama pants and caught Amara looking up at him with lust in her eyes. Colin loved that look —waiting, willing, and always wanting.

  Amara’s eyes pooled as her eyes etched every muscle on his chest, every contour of his body —the body she’d worshiped before she’d even touched it.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Colin said, licking his lips as his eyes wandered over her naked body once more. He’d just tasted her, and the urge to devour her again was already consuming him. She could tell—could see the desire in his eyes. It was the way he looked at her before he’d buried his head between her legs, and it was the way he was looking at her now. He stepped forward, placing one knee between her legs and parting them with the other, as he lowered himself over her.

  Amara’s heart fluttered as he took her face into his hands, cradling it as if she were a porcelain doll.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, placing his hands beside her face and positioning his thick erection between her legs, teasing her wet folds with the swollen head. “How will I ever find someone else this beautiful?” he asked as he sank deep into her in one swift motion.

  She wanted to cry at his question, but could only gasp and wrap her legs around his waist as she arched her back to take in more of him. She raised her hips to meet his slow thrusts and moaned loudly as pleasure shot through her. Colin’s hands traveled to her chest and he massaged her heavy breasts as he continued to grind his hips, pushing into her in slow circular movements.

  “You won’t,” she gasped out, finally finding her voice as a twinge of jealousy sparked her emotion.

  Amusement washed over Colin’s eyes and he smirked at her, his face inches away from hers. “I won’t?” he asked, pushing into her.

  Amara shook her head adamantly and bit down on her lip as he ground into her harder.

  “You’re right,” he said. “Because you’re not leaving me.”

  She inhaled sharply and let out a yelp when Colin tweaked her nipples and increased his rhythm. The intensity of her pleasure was so great, Amara felt she was on the verge of blacking out.

  “I have to,” she said with a pant. “Please,” she said. Colin slowed down his movements.
Amara wanted to scream at him not to stop, but the look in his eyes stole her voice.

  Propping himself up on one elbow, Colin let his fingers slide from her breast to her hand, raising it to place her palm over his beating heart as he continued to move achingly slow inside of her. “Stay with me. We’ll work it out. Be with me, really be with me,” he said.

  The sensation of his hips grinding into her was clouding her judgment, but she knew she couldn’t agree to that. She shook her head as tears began to spill over. The hurt look in his eyes was breaking her; the sound of his pleading voice was wearing her down. For as long as she could remember, Colin was the one thing she wanted. The one thing she looked forward to, and now she had to give him up. And his comment—that someone else would have him if she wouldn’t—hurt her more than she could handle. The idea of him with another woman in his apartment, and in his bed, killed her. Still, Amara couldn’t cave. As selfish as she wanted to be, as much as she wanted to stay with him, she couldn’t give him false hope.

  “I can’t, baby,” she whispered. “I care about you too much to make you wait.”

  “I love you,” he replied, dipping his head and placing a kiss on her lips. He picked up the pace once more and gave them both the release they needed before sliding beside her on the bed and pulling her close.

  His words stuck with her. I love you. He’d never said them before. Not really anyway. Not in a serious tone, not while he was looking into her eyes. The words; his eyes; the way he treated her; the man he was; the way she was going to leave him; the reasons why—it all made her heart feel like it was being put in a blender and turned on to the highest speed. She watched him as he drifted off into sleep, the wear of the day, of their conversation, of them making love, had finally caught up to him. Amara wanted to stay —she wanted that one night with him. She wanted to be there when he woke. More than anything, she wanted him to shower her with kisses in the morning and read The Wall Street Journal beside her as they ate breakfast. She wanted to drop the pretenses and just be with him, but thought about Vivienne and Philip and her mother. She thought about the new doctor that gave her mother the glimmer of hope in her eyes. She unraveled herself from Colin’s protective arms.