by KT Morrison
The spell has been broken and when Omar had made love to her tonight, she had suffered under him. His cock had hurt her, the dread robbing her of the pleasure that monstrous size usually gave her.
He'd come inside her then asked her what was wrong. She told him it was nothing, she just wasn't feeling well. He seemed worried by her inaction, her malaise, but he dropped it. He lay with her and fell asleep. She felt his warm seed seep from her, run through her folds. She felt it go cold, seem wetter than it was. Then it dried. She was still awake.
A woman from the bench had helped her to the bathroom back at the basilica. An American tourist, said she was from Michigan, rubbed her back while Kate cried in the ladies room, people coming in and out, looking at the two of them over their shoulder. She'd asked Kate if that man had hurt her. Asked her if that was her boyfriend. She told the woman he'd just given her some bad news. The woman pressed and Kate would just tell her it was about her husband.
When she got herself together she knew there was not much else to do. All she could do was what she knew she had to do.
She turned her iPhone back on again and she called for a car. It picked her up and she rode it back to the resort. She ordered a plane ticket home. Noon on Saturday. She wasn't ready to go but she knew she must.
Kate trembled now at the thought of what she'd done. It had felt so good, so right. In many ways it was one of the greatest weeks of her life. She had never wanted to see the bill. But it was delivered to her today by someone she least expected and she saw the cost would be enormous. What had she thought would happen with Mitch? How did she think this would be for him? Did she just assume she would run off from him and never talk to him again? Like maybe years from now they’d bump in to each other on some street in London, and they would smile as a flood of great memories and bad ones, would wash over them, then they’d pass, move on and get back to their new lives.
That was crazy. She wouldn't have done that. She loved him. Loved him desperately. Maybe she never thought she'd really stay with Omar. She was kidding herself wasn't she? She knew she'd run back to Mitch. He would open his arms to her, hug her, let her back in. She knew she was shit. She knew she was a terrible person.
Ares couldn't tell her what she’d done to him. Deep down she'd always figured she could go back. Mitch would take her. Mitch would allow her transgressions. But she'd hurt him. That was the cost of her fun. One day she would go too far, she knew it. One day, fuck maybe it's tomorrow, she will ruin it for good. She will fuck it up. Hurting Mitch was something separate from her exploring her passion. A tangible, discernible, different thing altogether. She didn't want to hurt him.
She knew she would always disappoint him. She had let him down in so many ways. She was to have a baby with him, she couldn't even do that. She let him down there hadn't she? Fuck. She would have been a shit mum anyway.
Did Mitch finally hate her? She deserved it. She was a whore. A selfish whore. She was a pig.
She wiped her tears from her eyes, sniffled loud in the quiet room. She got up and made her way to the bathroom and locked herself in. She ran the shower hot as she could take it and got inside and sat on the floor of the tiny stall. She let the water run over her and cried it out, hid her sounds in her hands and the running water.
She would tell Omar in the morning that she was leaving.
*
She couldn’t be doing this to him. Not now.
Kate said it again, “I just have to go home.”
Omar stammered, “But the race...why...you can’t…”
What about the lunch tomorrow with Valente? Kate was to be by his side. Valente took to her, Omar liked looking like a couple. Merde, they were a couple.
Kate stood before him, she was dressed, her purse over a forearm, sunglasses up in her hair, a printed ticket in her hand. She’d packed nothing, was going to walk away from him and leave him here with just the clothes on her back. Her face was troubled, worn out, drawn and pale. She didn’t want to go. He could see it in her eyes, she could barely hold his gaze. It wasn’t Omar she was leaving. It was about the man she would return to.
“Kate,” he said and he stepped toward her, tried to put his warm body into her space, but she stepped back from him.
They were standing at the foot of their unmade bed, sunlight streaming in through the window, a beautiful day out there. A perfect day for the race.
“Please, Omar, don’t make this hard on me—”
“Hard on you?” He was incredulous. His hands went up onto his head, his fingers locked around his crown, his eyes were bewildered.
“Omar this can’t be...it was never meant to—”
“Please, don’t leave me,” he said. Probably the most honest thing he’d said to a woman in his twenty-five years. She was breaking his heart and he didn’t know what it felt like until now.
Her lips trembled, she wanted to say something but she couldn’t speak. Her eyes were wet, glistening in the light from the window. He knew she didn’t want to go.
Omar grabbed her roughly by her arms and pulled her to him. Kate turned her face, pulling away, she couldn’t look at him.
“Omar, don’t—”
“I won’t let you leave me,” he growled.
“This isn’t real,” she cried out.
“How can you say that?” he hissed at her. What would make her want to destroy him?
Her arms struggled in his grip, she was squirming away from him, lifting her arms and twisting them. He let her arms go, grabbed her shirt at the small of her back and yanked her hard against him, throwing her head back. He grabbed her angrily by the back of her neck and forced her lips to his.
She slapped him across the ear and it made him drop her. He stood a foot from her now, both their faces pinched and angry, their chests heaving as they gasped for breath. His ear rang, blood pounded up the veins in his neck. He had never felt like this in his life. He’d never needed a woman like this before.
“Please,” he said. His face softening, his eyes opening, becoming pleading now.
He gambled it all. Asked a question he might not be able to face the answer to. He hoped for an answer that wouldn’t crush him, break him in two. “Can you tell me from your heart,” he said, thumping his fist on his chest and clutching it there, “tell me that you don’t feel something—that you’re leaving because you don’t want to be with me.”
Kate couldn’t answer him. Her face was still braced with anger, her chin trembled. He could hear her breathing. He knew she wasn’t leaving him, he knew she was going to another man. To her husband. But she belonged with Omar. She belonged to Omar.
“Don’t go to him,” he said. She held his gaze, her anger softening, becoming sad. It was honour or responsibility or something that was taking her from him. Kate was like Omar—they weren’t bound to things like that. This was a moment of weakness in her. He would help her through it.
Omar grabbed her roughly again and pulled her into him, she was rigid but her body pressed against his. He wanted her to feel how good it was when they touched. He ran his hands along her back and lifted her by her cheeks, lifted her onto the tips of her toes. She made a little sound in her throat, and she closed her eyes. He lifted her higher until her lips came to his. She kissed him reluctantly. He pulled her cheeks into his body, pressed his hips into her soft flesh. Her thigh pressed against his hardening member hanging along his leg under his cotton pants. He wanted her to feel it against her, remember what she was giving up, reminding her he had something she needed.
Kate resisted him, he could feel her energy being pulled away from him. He let her down, let her feet touch the floor. She stepped back but he held the fabric of her shirt pinched tightly between his thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes and he saw her posture change. She let him pull her to him. Her hands came up on his chest and she rested her head on him. Her fingers worked the buttons on the front of his shirt. He watched her.
She undid the shirt, her soft lips pressing and kissing
against the bare skin of his chest. She got lower, kissing down his belly. Her fingers undid his belt, pulled the leather out of the buckle, then she got his pants open. Her hands pulled the fly apart, slid the pants down his thighs a bit. His cock was trapped in there, pushed against his leg. She got the pants low enough that it fell free, swinging between his thighs before her.
She took it up in her two small hands and stroked it, lifted it up to her lips. As he got stiffer, her hands pulled his foreskin back, she pressed the big, hot head of his cock against her cheek, swiped it across her lips then along her other cheek. She wouldn’t look at him, she was looking away.
“Look at me, Kate,” he said, but she just pushed his big organ past her lips, gripped him hard with her fists to swell up the end of him.
Omar bent down and put his hands under her arms and lifted her up, walked her backwards, her heels dragging on the rug. He dropped her on the bed. She still looked away from him.
He kissed her, pushed her back onto the bed while he did. She let him, lay back for him. Then she turned her face from his kisses, rolled over. She got onto her front, lifted herself up on all fours, and he stood up to give her room. She pulled her skirt up for him, pulled it right up to her narrow waist, her big round creamy bottom bent over for him. She hooked a thumb into her panties and slid them down her cheeks.
He smelled her warm Kate smell; why would she do this to him, how could she be so cruel?
She put a hand over her rump, ran it between her cheeks and in between her legs, pulled something from herself and threw it to the side. She pushed herself back to him, offered herself to him. Her face turned slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to do something. She took the sunglasses out of her hair and threw them onto the pillow. Again she pushed her sex back at him. Was she just looking at the clock on the stand?
He flung her onto her back, one hand grabbing one hip and heaving her over. Now she saw him.
“Look at me,” he said again. She let her legs fall open for him. He pulled her panties down and off, put a knee up on the bed, and got himself over her. His hand went around her neck, gripped her from the back and pulled her up to kiss him. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. He struggled to find her tongue. He gripped her neck harder and she whimpered.
She eased, her lips moving with his as her breaths grew lusty. He felt himself harden, his huge cock hanging between them pressed up against the cold back of her thigh. Her hands ran down her own legs, her fingertips caressed the underside of him as they passed. He took it in his hand and brought the head in between her folds, working it up and down, getting it wet from her. Then he plunged it in her.
“Ah, God,” she cried out, and her nails scored tracks along the flesh of his back. He was too urgent to restrain himself, he just drove into her like a piston.
Kate screamed out in ecstasy, urged him to fuck her harder with his big cock. His heart swelled at her returning passion. He swelled hearing her high encouraging voice thrilled by his cock buried inside her.
“Look at me,” he said again, but she was turned, her eyes clamped shut.
He put a hand around her throat and squeezed her hard, he would make her eyes open. He fucked her hard, he knew he was hurting her. He knew she loved it. He wanted her to have this thing she loved he wanted her to feel every inch of it. He gripped her throat until her eyes bulged open. He wanted to see inside her, he wanted her to see into him, to understand his love for her. He wanted her to know there was no way he would let her get on that plane.
*
Mitch felt so alive.
The sun was on his face, there was a wonderful light breeze he felt in his thick wavy hair. They were on a street side restaurant in Knightsbridge, happy people living their sunny lives just an arm’s reach from him on the walk. He felt like he’d returned to the surface. And across from him? An angel. She’d saved him. Her super-model face turned up to the sun, her eyebrows peaceful over her tortoiseshell sunglasses. A happy, contented smile on her face.
“You really are the picture of someone happy to be home,” he said.
She didn’t say anything but she smiled wide until her teeth showed. She leaned forward and took a sip from her straw; spiced gin and a barrel aged tonic, served with lemon and lavender. Maybe they’d get tipsy today and they’d go walk around the V&A.
At some point he’d like to talk to someone, tell them what he’s been up to. What he suspects others have been up to. He could talk to Kiley. She would listen, he could tell her about the House and why it’s been shuttered. That would be a relief to him.
And she could be his proxy too. Would she go for him? She said she would. He felt she would do it. Go to Kate because he couldn’t.
He knew where she was. He knew she’d been delivered a message. All the threats in the world wouldn’t budge Kate if she didn’t want to move. But her Kiley?
They could give her another day, maybe two, then...
“I don’t think I’m going back.”
“America?”
“I think I’m staying here.”
“Kiley, you love it—”
“I’m not sure they want me back.”
“What happened?”
“I’ve been bad. I’ve been letting myself off the hook for some of my actions and I think last night and this morning, talking with you, I realized I’m guilty. I thought there were things I could do because I was a girl but...I’m wrong. I did things that were wrong.”
“The hot tub?”
“Worse than that Mitch. Worse than that.” She laughed then, just a quick one, caught herself and sniffed. She brushed an eye under her sunglass lens. “They’re going to can me. I know it, Mitch. I can live with it. I can be accountable. I just don’t know how bad it will be. Maybe just fired, but who knows, you know?” She shrugged, looked out on the street. “I’m glad to be home. It really seems so wonderfully small and far away now and I’m glad to be sitting with you.”
“Let me deal with them.”
“Be my lawyer? No, Mitch. I’m a big girl. I can take my lumps.”
He reached over and took her hands, said, “I won’t let them give you any lumps.”
Her phone rang.
Mitch could see her eyes lit up in grey-green, filled up with sunlight under her sunglass lenses, look down at her screen. They went wide.
“Mitch...Mitch, God, it’s Kate, love.” She whipped the glasses off and held her phone like it was hot, staring at the screen and she didn’t know what to do. She thrust her phone out to him in a hurry, she blurted, “You—”
He put his hands up and shook his head frantically. He said, “She’s calling you. Answer it. What if my voice scared her off?” He hated sounding so panicked.
Kiley pressed her screen carefully, an action she’d done a hundred thousand times but she was desperate not to somehow fuck this up. Her phone went up into that mane of beautiful hair and she pressed her free hand over her other ear.
“Kate?”
She looked to Mitch and nodded, her eyes were wet and wild.
“Is she okay?” he burst out.
Kiley frowned, shushed him, but she nodded. He thought she nodded.
“Slow down...what...oh, no. Oh, Kate, I...the hospital? But he...Ospedale, what? San Lorenzo. What happened?...Oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...Kate—”
Kiley looked up at him, her eyes were telling him a horrible story and his heart sank. Kiley held the phone, listening, her eyes stared at him wildly. With her hair pulled back he could see she’d hurt herself, a mark over her brow. He went to her, dragged the heavy metal chair he was sitting on behind him, sat himself next to her.
“Oh, no, no, no,” she whispered, still being told something terrible and he put his arm around her.
“She’s okay?” Mitch asked her.
“Kate, wait...if he’s...no, I can...Kate? Kate?”
Her hand came out with her phone and she closed the call. Mitch squeezed her. “Please, God, Kiley, tell me she�
��s all right.”
She looked up to him, pushed herself to lean on him and he hugged her. “She’s okay, she’s okay, Mitch. She’s upset...it’s Omar. He’s in the hospital...she said he’s not going to make it.”
Thanks so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed this novelette despite my cliffhanger ending! But you know I don’t normally do that—this was just a great place for this episode to end!
If you like Kate and Mitch, Kiley, and Omar and want to hear more about them, please let me know. Keep in touch, go on and send me an e-mail or get me on twitter. I’d like to hear from you!
If you’re a little late to the Cayman Proxy Party and want to catch up, the first Box Set is here>>> The Cayman Proxy: Box One
—KT
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Check out this sexy book trailer for Infidelity!
Other Books by KT Morrison
Losing His Wife series:
Book One
Book Two
Pete and Jess Mapplethorpe have been married for seven years now. They’ve got two wonderful little boys and an Irish Setter. Everyone that knows them would say they are the nicest couple you’d want to meet.
Well, they might say that Pete can be a bit of a jerk sometimes—but Jess? Regional Grade Three teacher of the year, three years running. Pretty, polite, sensitive, kind and thoughtful…
It must have been black magic that brought them together…
Behind closed doors everyone would be shocked at what goes on. They’d never believe the dirty things that sweet Jess might do or say. Pete doesn’t think he has what it takes to please his beautiful wife and they fantasize about larger men taking her and making her happy.