That’s what I was, and I didn’t care.
I needed what was going to happen, whatever it was.
I just needed him.
I needed Axel.
No matter how bad that was for me.
He broke the kiss and put his forehead to mine. I quickly clawed at his perfect jawline. It was so hard, with a little scruff on his face. The only man that had ever made me feel truly crazy.
“Axel… don’t stop…”
“I have to tell you something,” he said.
“What?”
“I would still hold your hair back if you needed to puke from drinking too much.”
Oh, fuck…
I jumped up and kissed him. I didn’t want to talk anymore.
Because I felt pathetic…
What Axel just said was the most romantic thing anyone had said to me since… Axel.
4.
His hands touched my hips and moved up my shirt. Fingertips sliding against my warm skin, going all the way up to just below my breasts. That’s where he stopped, still showing me how masterful he was at foreplay. My chest thrust at him, wanting him to touch me, but he was the one in control.
We kissed wildly, knowing that with each kiss we were sharing, it was another sliver of regret, a touch of guilt, and nothing short of pouring gasoline on a fire that was already burning way too much.
I felt his hands slide right back down my sides. I groaned into his mouth, a tingling sensation running down my entire body. I realized that he was feeling the curves of my sides and my waist. Heat rose into my cheeks as I felt so self-conscious about myself. I didn’t have the same figure as when we first met. I didn’t have that guilt-free teenage body and I didn’t have that becoming a woman, early twenties body either.
Axel growled as he stopped kissing me, just as his fingertips eased into the sides of my pants.
“My fucking god, Shel,” he whispered. “How the fuck do you get more beautiful like this?”
“What?”
“Every fucking year you get more beautiful. Every time I touch you, it’s the same, but different.”
“Axel… I’m not the same…”
“I know, love,” he whispered. His eyes locked to mine. “That’s what has my heart racing right now.”
He kissed me again, which was good because I had nothing to say.
The words made me flutter. My inner thighs trembled for that familiar touch of his hands… and more.
Axel wasted no time in easing my pants down. I suddenly regretted putting panties on because it was just one more obstacle for him to deal with. And the more seconds we put between us, were seconds that would eventually remind us why this was such a bad idea.
The second I was able to kick my pants off on my own, I did. My knees bent and my legs parted. I was shaking, ready, waiting.
His left hand touched the back of my leg. He squeezed hard enough that my muscle tensed, but it also tickled. I jumped and groaned, not sure if I should come or laugh. My body was so confused… but that was okay.
Axel brought his right hand up, using one finger to trace the line of my panties. Teasing between my legs, working up to my hip again. He slipped two fingers into the sides and tugged.
“Off,” he ordered with one strong word.
The kiss broke, but our lips were still touching. He pushed my panties down a few inches and left me to do the rest. As I moved, our lips flirted, but neither of us kissed the other. Those subtle seconds were the hottest I could remember in years. Believe me, I took care of myself when the need and want came. But to compare anyone to Axel was just stupid.
I managed to get my panties down to my knees. Axel refused to give me room to bend a little or kick my legs and wrestle them down to my feet. Instead, he lifted his foot and stepped between my legs, driving them down with force.
I gasped and put my hands onto the kitchen table.
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
“Fucking right, love,” Axel said.
His left hand eased to the small of my back as his right hand touched my lower belly. I was clean and smooth for him, soft skin leading to warm and damp skin, proof of what he was still capable of doing to me.
I honestly hated myself and hated my body for the reaction I had to Axel…
But it was so good.
His fingertips dipped between my thighs, curling to spread my folds, my body opening like a flower in the morning to the rays of the sun. I trembled without control, feeling almost foolish, like this had never happened to me before.
Axel looked down to watch himself touch me. I leaned back, letting my lower half stick out more. I needed to balance against the table because I felt my knees threatening to go numb and bend. Last thing I wanted was to collapse in front of Axel because he was touching me.
My head spun from the vodka. My heart raced from the beautiful memories of when Axel and I were together. Married. Planning a family. Planning a life of forever.
I shut my eyes and bit my lip, needing to chase the memories away.
His fingers played against my slit, moving up and down, teasing in a perfect way. He pressed his fingers to my tender clit, making my lower half thrust at him. I groaned, the pleasure exploding in my core like a bomb. He twisted his fingers against clit, my hips instinctively driving forward for more, then he slipped his fingers down and plunged two into me.
I cried out, my head falling back.
The surge of pressure was too much to bear.
I collapsed back, hit the table, and the table slid across the floor.
I was going to fall… but Axel caught me.
He kept me from falling, his left hand taking a firm hold of my ass, pulling me right where he wanted me. My hands gripped at his pockets, like they used to do when I desperately wanted him inside me.
“Look at me, Shel,” Axel said in a rough voice.
I looked forward, already feeling my body desperate to let go. My body sheathing his fingers as he thrust over and over, making my hips dance to his touch.
He put his forehead to mine, towering over me, bent over in what had to be an uncomfortable way. I pulled at his jeans, wanting to feel him against me as he pleasured me.
Our eyes met and I couldn’t do it anymore.
I couldn’t do the pretend thing. I couldn’t do the fall back into the past thing.
But I also couldn’t stop this from happening. I wanted it. I needed it.
But I just couldn’t believe it was Axel doing it.
I shut my eyes and took a shuddering breath.
Axel was pleasuring me as I was hurting myself.
Fourteen
*PRESENT DAY*
Axel
1.
She was everything I remembered, and then some. I’d never thought it was possible for a woman to get more curves, and certainly not in the way that Shelby had. I had known her since she was an awkward girl. I watched her become an even more awkward teenager. Her body changing, hair style changing, getting pimples and being embarrassed by it. Trying out different clothes to work out how to compliment her new figure. Watching her become a woman, and now this… a real woman.
When she shut her eyes, I gritted my teeth.
She didn't want to look at me.
I understood.
And if she wanted me to stop, all she needed to do was touch my wrist to tell me no. I would have been gone in a second, left with a lingering ache between my legs and the sweet smell of her honey on my fingers.
Just thinking about her coating my fingers made me fuck her harder. My body bounced against hers as my fingers sank as deep as they could inside her. I wanted to be inside her in a different way, but this moment was for her. She had a hell of a grip on the insides of my pockets and I knew what that meant. That meant to keep going. If she wanted anything else, she’d go for it.
Believe me, this worked for me.
Watching her hips wiggling and writhe against my touch. Hearing the sound of my fingers taking care of her. Her wetness
soaking my fingers. The way her shirt barely covered her waist, leaving me with plenty to look at.
She was just there… eyes still shut. The look on her face as I felt her moving toward climax. The way her slit pulsed. I knew exactly what to do and how to do it to her. I knew the exact spot inside her to curl my fingers and reach that next level. Hitting the forbidden spot that made her explode. I gently placed my thumb against her swollen clit and that was all I needed to do.
Her facial expressions changed by the second, her lips parting, closing, biting her lip, her mouth opening like she wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
I kept going.
It fucking hurt a little that she wouldn’t even look at me. Maybe it was just too painful. Or maybe she just hated my guts that much.
I didn’t want to stand there, pleasuring the only woman I ever gave my heart to, and think about the past.
I looked down and watched the way her body moved. Grinding and thrusting as though she were riding me.
Oh, fuck, I wish she was riding me…
I could easily envision her on top of me, my hands full of her breasts, her hips popping up and down on me, using me to bring herself to the peak while I waited for the perfect time to let myself go and remind her of how full she could feel.
But I had something else at hand first.
Literally in my hand.
I cupped her ass with my left hand, squeezing and pulling to keep her close to me.
I thrust forward with my body and left zero space between us. That meant my fingers were deep inside her and they weren’t fucking coming out until she was done.
I made circles and felt my hand shaking. There was a sense of fury inside me.
My teeth gritting so hard that I thought they were going to crack into pieces.
Shelby started to breathe heavily. Her breaths became gasps. Her face winced, mouth opened wide, and she let out a breathless ah, ah, ah, sound that made me want to explode.
“Oh, fuck,” she managed to whisper.
She opened her eyes and looked right at me the moment she began to come.
I felt the gush of warmth and the clench of her core, holding me so fucking tightly as I gently kept loving her with only two fingers. Her hips bucked hard at first and then slowed down. I stopped moving and backed away a little, leaving her to do what she pleased with her body and my hand.
She moved her left hand from my jeans pocket and touched my wrist. She pushed just a little and I eased my hand away from her.
“Shel…”
She hadn’t blinked since she opened her eyes.
She just stared.
I opened my mouth, hoping I could find the right words to say, even though that usually wasn’t my thing.
Before I could speak, Shelby burst into tears.
2.
I rubbed my jaw and looked at the kitchen table. Pushed back at least six inches from where her beautiful body had crashed into it. This was typical us though. A moment of amazing bliss, and that was followed by hours of terror.
“Fuck,” I said.
I looked down at my other hand. The hand that had been touching Shelby. Feeling her desire. Playing with her needs. Working for her pleasure. Everything that actually mattered to me. Not just some random fling to steal some hours and forget about time.
Years ago, this was my chance to leave. She’d storm away and I’d stand there and think about what had happened and where the hell it was all going to end up. If I went to talk to her, it would only make the fight worse. If I just left and got a drink, it gave things a chance to cool off.
But that was when we were married.
Now… what the hell did it matter? Shelby was the one who wanted me to come over. She was the one who offered me a drink. She was the one who started throwing back shots. She was the one who was hiding something from me, not that it was my business to know, but if it was making her feel this way, I wanted to help her.
Divorce or not, I still cared. Of course I fucking cared.
I still loved her.
It was only paper that made us not together. The heart worked in a different way.
I walked to the table and put my hand to it.
I waited another minute before finally giving up.
The walk toward her bedroom was something else for me. First off, I had never been in this bedroom before. Secondly, my mind wondered how many other men had taken this walk. Holding her hand. Kissing her. Ripping clothes off each other as they raced to the bedroom for fun.
Jealousy soared through my body when I got to the door.
There was no knocking either.
I grabbed the doorknob and turned it.
When I opened the door, Shelby sat on the edge of her messy, unmade bed, face in her hands, crying.
My eyes scanned the room.
It was plain.
A three drawer dresser. A single nightstand on one side of the bed. No pictures anywhere. A few piles of clothes on the floor in typical Shelby fashion. She’d rather live out of a clean clothes hamper and make a pile of dirty clothes and then do her laundry and live out of the clean clothes hamper again.
I stepped into the room and was overcome by the smell of her. Her clothes. Her hair. Her shampoo. Everything about her in the air. The smell of the sheets, the pillows, that mix of sweat and sleep.
“Shelby,” I said.
She looked at me and started to shake her head. “I’m sorry.”
I stepped in front of her and crouched down.
I wanted to touch her, but I restrained myself.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
“No it’s not,” she said. “Nothing is okay.”
I swallowed hard.
“I see you still don’t make your bed, huh?” I asked.
Shelby looked at me, eyes glistening with tears. “Asshole.”
She smiled and it faded quickly.
I grinned. “You never made the bed. Ever.”
“Is that what did it for you, Axel?”
“Oh, Christ, Shel,” I said. I reached for her face. “Why the fuck would you ask that? I don’t care about a messy bed. Or a messy floor. Or a messy apartment. You know that.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, but didn’t pull it away from her face.
She took a few deep breaths, sad and angry.
“You closed your eyes, love,” I whispered.
“I couldn’t look at you,” she said.
“You hate me that much, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what it is, Axel. But I didn’t stop you. I didn’t stop myself.”
I stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Is that why you’re upset?”
“I don’t know. I’m just drunk. And it’s all coming back to me.”
“You should get some sleep then. I’ll crash on your couch and be gone by morning. I’ll sleep off what I drank and get out of here. I promise.”
I started to stand and Shelby quickly clamped a hand onto my shoulder. “No.”
“No, what?” I asked.
“I don’t want that.”
“Don’t want what, Shel?”
“I don’t want you to fucking leave. I don’t want you to make me come and then sleep on the couch and then slip away when you’ve sobered up.”
“Okay.”
“But I don’t want you here. I fucking hate myself for letting that happen. I hate myself for getting upset. And I hate myself… because I liked it.”
“There’s a lot of hate in that pretty heart of yours.”
“Yeah, well, think about what happened.”
“I happened,” I said.
“Yeah, you did. But we happened too.”
“So it’s both of us.”
“And then some,” she said, her voice cracking.
I looked away.
I’m not going back there, Shelby. Not when we’re drinking. Not when all these emotions and tensions keep building…
“Look at me,” she said.
“No,” I
said. “You shut your fucking eyes, so I get to look away.”
“There we go again, Axel. Just hiding it all. Right?”
I stood up and backed away.
“I didn’t hide anything,” I said, surprisingly calm. “I was always honest. Even if that led us here.”
“So I was fake then? Trying to save us?”
“I would never say that.”
“You just implied it.”
“You know what? Fuck things being implied. That was half the problem, Shel. Too much thinking and implying. Just say what’s on your mind or in your heart and move forward.”
There was silence.
For as much as my heart had been swelling for Shelby thirty seconds ago when she was crying, it flipped a switch and was now pissed off. Because this was, again, typical Shelby. And it pissed me off.
“I’ll be on the couch,” I said.
“I said no,” she said.
I froze again, this time facing the door. “What?”
“I said no… I don’t want you to go and sleep on the couch, Axel.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m upset because I know what I want right now.”
I slowly turned. “Meaning…?”
“You,” she whispered. “I want you, Axel. Tonight. Right now.”
“I’m right here. Whatever is going on with you, you can tell me. I still care-”
“Here,” she said and inched back on the bed.
There was a quick second when I caught a glimpse of her beautiful slit again. The only clothes she wore were her bra and shirt. That was it. Naked from the waist down.
She put the covers over herself and nodded to the other half of the bed.
“Next to me,” she whispered. “And hold me.”
“That’s what you want right now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to cry?”
“Probably.”
Right then, if I left, that would have been it for the rest of our lives. I would have stomped on the last piece of her heart, leaving her stranded when she was most vulnerable. That was the final thin piece of thread holding us together. I didn’t even need scissors to cut it. Just the will to hide my heart and walk the hell away.
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