by Amy Brent
She squirmed a little underneath me when I pushed all the way in. I waited for a moment when I was into the hilt, letting her adjust. She breathed fast and shallow. I ran my fingers through her curly hair, over her cheeks, tracing her eyebrows, her ears, her nose, her lips.
“You’re beautiful.” This was so important to me that she knew that. That she understood what this was about. It wasn’t revenge sex or a rebound or some ass because I was lonely. This was all about her.
I started moving. In and out, in and out. Slowly, stroking. Her eyes rolled back and then closed and she gasped, whimpering moans slipping out of her throat. Her hands were on my back, her fingers massaging the skin. I kept moving. The sensation was fantastic. I ran my hand over her body, over her breast. She arched her back, moving her hips along with mine.
I felt her orgasm building. Her body tightened around mine, her legs hooked around my ass, her hands kneaded the skin on my back, her moans became louder. It coaxed my orgasm out, stroke by stroke, too.
She released before I did, toppling over into the abyss and I watched her face. She gave herself over to it entire. Her eyebrows knit together, her mouth opened in a silent cry, and then her body clamped down on mine and she curled around me, nails biting into my skin. I grunted, relishing the sharp pain that came with the exhilaration, the ecstasy. I only waited until the worst was over until she was breathing again, before I kept moving.
Her orgasm had nearly kick started mine and I wanted my release. I wanted to claim her. It sounded awful and primal and animalistic but it was what I wanted. Some carnal part of me wanted to mark her so that no one else would look at her. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice shouted that I’d never wanted to do that with Marina, but I drowned it out with sex. I went faster and faster.
Her cries and moans were louder and came freely now, as if breaking through the orgasm had let her break through self-consciousness, too. I felt it building inside of me now, my balls contracted and my core was on fire. Just a little… more…
My body jerked and I froze, letting nature take over, letting my body do what it needed to. I was aware of her whimpering when I released inside of her, of her hands on my back and her breath in my ear. When it finally subsided she opened her eyes and she looked at me.
Big brown eyes. Beautiful. A face I wanted to look at over and over and over again.
“Holy shit, Mark.”
I smiled. Such an adolescent expression after such a mature act. I nodded.
Holy shit, indeed.
* * *
Camille
I spent the night. When he finished inside of me I hadn’t wanted to spoil it by getting up and leaving. I didn’t want to leave, anyway. Mark had slipped out of, collapsed next to me and pulled me against him, curling his body around mine like a question mark. If I had been unsure before about his intentions with me I was sure now. Men who wanted one-night stands and booty calls didn’t spoon. These were facts you learned at a very young age.
Mark wasn’t using me. I wasn’t sure what else was behind it – I was hesitant to assume there was any emotional input – but it definitely wasn’t just physical. Was it?
I carefully slid out from underneath the covers. It was very early, the light coming from outside still laced with a silver quality. I tiptoed around the room to find my clothes. I didn’t want to hit and run but I had to get out of here to think straight. I didn’t want him to think it was any less to me than it was to him, but a girl has to think.
I got dressed as quietly as I could. I glanced back at him one more time before leaving the room. He was fast asleep, tangled in sheets we’d both messed up.
I let myself out, scared an alarm would go off. There was nothing. I walked all the way back to the bus stop and got on one that would take me back to my dorm. To real life.
What was I doing? I ran my hands through my hair, hoping it didn’t look too wild, like sex hair. I hadn’t even checked myself in the mirror before I’d left. I ran a finger under each eye, hoping my make-up hadn’t smudged.
Everything inside the college dorm was quiet, most of the students taking the morning to sleep in while they could. Late nights and impossibly early mornings define student life – you take a break whenever you can. I’d left with the same clothes on last night. I was relieved no one would see me coming in.
Sharon came down the corridor. Early riser. She stopped dead when she saw me.
“Is it still a walk of shame when you’re in your own corridor?” A smile played around her lips. Dammit, she knew.
I sighed and shook my head.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I started saying no, but then changed my answer. “Actually, I do.” I had a lot on my mind. I needed to tell someone, and considering that Sharon was the one that always ended up peeling me off the floor when something went wrong in my life she was the lady for the job. I opened my room door and she came in with me. She sat down on the chair Mark had used when he’d been here.
“So, who’s the lucky guy?”
“Mark.”
No reason to try and sugarcoat it. No matter when the truth came out, there would be a reaction.
Sharon frowned. “I don’t remember any Mark. Does he study with us?”
I shook my head. “Not a student Mark. A grownup Mark.”
I watched her mind tick, running through all the Mark’s we knew. Her eyes widened slightly and I knew she’d landed on the right one. I nodded a confirmation.
“Are you out of your mind? What the hell is wrong with you?”
This was the first time she’d asked me that. I heard that sentence often.
“It wasn’t on purpose.”
She snorted. “A classic case of you slipped and he fell?”
I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. It wasn’t necessary.
“Don’t be a bitch right now, okay? I’m stuck.”
She snorted again and I could almost taste the next snarky comment but she didn’t say it and I breathed out in relief. The truth was I was starting to fall for Mark and it scared the shit out of me. I needed another perspective and Sharon – on the days she chose – could really be a voice of reason.
“I know you think this is all wrong, but the story isn’t exactly what you think.”
She raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. So tell me, her face said. I explained to her about Marina and her lover, about Mark and how lonely he’s been not just after the affair but while he was married, too.
“So, you thought it would be noble to keep him company?”
I sighed. “Can you please just push aside the fact that he’s twice my age—”
“And married.”
“Yeah… and married. And just treated this like every other screwed up relationship I’ve had?”
Sharon shrugged with one shoulder. I wasn’t sure if it was consent or indifference.
“The truth is that I really like him. I’m falling for him. He’s different. But he’s a billionaire with a life he built himself and I’m just a student. Why would he like me? Why would he go for me?”
“I don’t know.” Sharon’s voice was neutral. “You might want to be careful, but it has happened before that men were genuine. It can happen again.”
I picked at my thumbnail. “I am pregnant with his child, after all.”
“But that happened before the sex, not after.”
I nodded. “I know. And it’s also not my baby. It’s hers.” I covered my face with my hands. “God, this is so complicated.” My voice was muffled through my fingers.
“Why don’t you go and talk to him about it? You deserve an answer if you ask him the question. He can’t just leave you hanging, if he does you’ll know, anyway, but you still need to see him. And his wife.”
“She’s not his ex, yet.”
“She might never be.”
I hadn’t thought about that. When he’d told me she’d moved out I’d assumed it was over. Us having sex had made me feel like it was final.
I hadn’t thought about the fact that he might take her back for the baby’s sake, that it might be nothing more than a one-nighter to get it out of his system. Shit.
“Stop worrying about it,” Sharon ordered. “You can’t overthink this until you speak to him.”
“And I can’t speak to him until after the test series or I’ll fail them all. Especially if it goes south.”
She nodded. I was being reasonable.
“Can I ask you something?”
I looked up at her and nodded. Her eyes sparkled and a smile spread over her face. “What was he like? In bed?”
I smiled, too. “Oh, my God, Sharon. He’s older, so he knows what he’s doing. I mean… hell. He really knows what he’s doing. It was fantastic.”
I swallowed, trying to get rid of the insecurities that were creeping in. Had I been good in bed? Had I left him just as satisfied as he’d left me? Was this something he would do again? Was it something I would let happen again? Did I have to stop it?
I shook off the questions and focused on Sharon, giving her details, telling her enough to satisfy her curiosity without sacrificing my or Mark’s dignity. It distracted me from all the questions, the doubts, the insecurity. It distracted me from a future that was unsure.
* * *
Mark
I couldn’t get her off my mind. Legs that went on forever, caramel skin that tasted just as sweet. Her eyes, boring into mine, encouraging me to bare it all. Her mouth, mesmerizing into wanting to kiss her whenever she spoke about something interesting, which was all the time.
I should have thought about what I was doing. I was nervous I’d taken it too far. I knew what I felt for her but I had no idea if she felt the same for me.
And she was pregnant with my child. With my and Marina’s child. Had I done something terrible?
It was difficult to see something that had been so spectacular as something terrible. I hadn’t felt like that with a woman since… I wasn’t actually sure if I’d ever felt that way around a woman. I knew for a fact Marina had never made me feel that way, which was just another reason on the pile of why I shouldn’t be with her. I’d been trying my damn best to make her happy, to be the model husband, to give her everything her heart desired.
It was just a pity her heart didn’t desire me. That hurt. It had stung like a bitch when I’d come back after catching the two of them in bed and she’d sat on the couch, her makeup in place, her hair perfect, her voice, her eyes, pleading.
I’d kicked her out. I couldn’t stand the look of her. She was nothing like the woman I’d married. I felt tricked and betrayed, not just by the affair but by our entire marriage.
I drew my thoughts back to Camille. She deserved them, not Marina. Not now. She was a point of light in a life that had become increasingly dark. She’d made me realize what it was like to be happy again, and that it wasn’t wrong to want that. I needed her to know how I felt about her. I needed her to understand that this wasn’t just about sex.
I called her. I was scared she wouldn’t answer. She’d left without saying goodbye.
“Do you want to come over tonight?” I asked. “Just to talk, to spend time together.” No sex, I wanted her to understand. She hesitated.
“I can’t see you until after my tests,” she said. My heart plummeted.
“Are you upset?”
“Not at all.” She was quiet to respond there and it made me feel better. “I’m not upset at all. But I need to pass these tests to get into the exam and I can’t afford a distraction.” She paused before adding on with a smile in her voice, “and you’re a very big distraction.”
When we ended the conversation I felt better. She didn’t hate me. She didn’t think I was the scum of the earth. At least, she was very good at pretending, if that was the case. I didn’t see her as the kind of person to lie about it, though. She seemed straight forward, open, uncomplicated. A big distraction, she’d called me. A compliment.
Dusk started falling when the intercom buzzed. I walked to the television that was linked to all the cameras that monitored the place. Marina stood outside, the door of her Gold Mercedes open, the lights on.
“Can we talk?”
I wanted to tell her to go away. I didn’t want to let her in. But the sooner I got it over with, the better. I opened the gate and walked to the front door. My stomach turned to stone, nerves settling inside of me like they were going to stay. I didn’t want to talk to her. I never wanted to see her again.
I opened the door and she stopped in front of me. Was she expecting a kiss? When I didn’t move she carried on, moving deeper into the house. She sat down in her usual spot on the couch as if I was the one that was going to be interviewed, not her.
I sat down in my usual spot, too. I realized that our usual seats hadn’t been on the same couch for a long time.
“Why did you come?”
She looked hurt. “Is it wrong for a woman to come home to her husband?”
I shrugged. “Is it wrong to sleep with her fertility doctor in her marriage bed?”
She cringed away as if I’d physically struck her. Her eyes welled with tears.
“I made a mistake. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
I thought about our marriage, how devoted I’d been to Marina. I thought about Camille, the way she’d looked so perfect on my bed, naked, wanting. I shook my head.
“I’ve never made a mistake like that. This wasn’t a white lie or a forgotten anniversary, for God’s sake.”
She nodded, looking at her hands. Her nails were freshly done. My money. I was going to stop her cards.
“I wanted to fix this between us, Mark. I want us to be how we used to be.”
Before she’d become a bitch or before she’d had the affair? Those didn’t happen at the same time. I shook my head.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to do that. I don’t trust you anymore.” I wanted to add that I should never have, but I didn’t. That would have been cruel. I didn’t want to be cruel, only realistic.
“Please, Mark. You can’t just give up on us now. We have a baby on the way. What about the baby? Do this for the baby if not for me.”
We didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. Neither Camille or I went to the doctor’s meeting.
“I’m sorry, Marina, but everything has changed. I can’t do this.”
She tried to plead a little longer. When that didn’t work, she changed tactics.
“You have someone else, then?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you. I wasn’t the one that had the affair with the one person we were both supposed to be able to trust, to confide in to build our lives together.”
“But you’re used to whoring around. Before you met me, that’s all you did.”
I was getting angry. She knew exactly how to push my buttons. That was what happened when you lived with someone, married someone, shared your life with someone. You got to know them well enough to know where you could hit them, where it really hurt.
“My life before you and after you are two very different things. I gave up my lifestyle for you.”
“But that didn’t stop you from falling straight into bed with another whore, did it?”
“Camille is not a whore.”
Shit. The words had slipped out, our back and forth had gotten faster and faster. Marina’s face changed from shock to a sly grin.
“I knew it. I know who you really are, Mark. You can’t hide it with fancy suits and cars and that billion watt smile of yours.”
She was hurting me and she knew it.
“A child of all things. She’s barely an adult, and you want to tell me she’s not a whore? What could she possibly see in you? Or you in her?”
She’d stunned me, but not for long.
“I care more for her than I ever cared for you.” Let her take that however, she wanted. She paled a little but she bounced back quick. That was one of the upsides of being Marina. Her skin was thick and her tongue was sh
arp.
“Don’t play games with me, Mark. Jealousy won’t win me over. I’m not going to run back to you just because I feel like I have competition.”
I nodded. “Good. That saves me the trouble of having to get rid of you over and over again.”
She opened her mouth to say something but she had nothing and snapped it shut again. For a moment I felt guilty. I was being hard on her. I was hurting her. I wanted to apologize but then I saw those dark brown hands on her light skin again, the sheet clutched to the chest he’d been starting at openly, and I swallowed my regrets.
Marina stood up. Her heels clacked on the marble tiles all the way to the front door.
“You’ll hear from my lawyer, Mark. The baby is mine and you know, as the woman, I’ll win I court. If you want to play dirty, so can I.”
I followed her to the front door. I watched her climb into her car. She started it with a huff, flicking her hair over her shoulder. I was tired. Exhausted.
I still loved her. On some level, I supposed I would for a long time, still. But so much of me had been bruised and become callous as a result of constant battering it was hard for me to reconcile the woman she was now with the woman she had been before. It was hard for me to find a reason to feel like I should fix it with her. It was hard to care about what happened to her at all.
She reversed out of the yard and sped off. I could hear her engine whining for a long time after the gate had rolled shut. I turned around and walked back into the house that felt miserable and empty. It was easy to get rid of someone that had hurt you. It was hard to filter through all the emotions that had built up through the years, to see the house you’d shared as a place of your own again. A place where you could be yourself without being judged for it.
Her comment about the whores rolled around my mind and I struggled to silence it. It was true, I’d lived the bachelor’s life before her. But I had been a bachelor. There wasn’t another choice. I had changed everything for her when we’d gotten married, even who I was.