by Q. B. Tyler
Will
-The way he looks at me like I’m the only one that matters.
-Sense of humor
-The sex
-How protective he is
-Extremely intelligent
-How we can talk for hours about anything and the conversation is never boring
-He does what he says he’s going to do. (Calls when he says he will.)
-Thoughtful
-Doesn’t ignore me
-Most. gorgeous. man. alive.
-Can I mention the sex again?
-Gives the best hugs
-Does he want to let me go?
-Do I want to let him go?
I realize my list is turning into a series of questions I don’t have the answers to. I lean back in the chair as I jot down my final bullet point.
-I’m in love with him.
I stare at the words I’ve written before looking at Matthew’s column. I stare at his name longer than I should before I start his list.
Matthew
-He’s my husband.
I look at the words and decide to add to it.
-He’s my husband…so?
-We’ve been together eight years.
-I lost my virginity to him.
-My first love
-Mom loves him.
I think about my mother and the string of men including two stepfathers that she’s brought into my life. I love my mother more than anything but I have the deep-rooted fear of becoming her. On her third marriage, my mother has a habit of flitting from one man to the next. The lack of stability in my formative years is why I crave it so desperately now.
Husbands.
My mother’s second husband.
I shudder as the darkness creeps into my thoughts.
-He knows about Michael.
I think about how supportive Matt has always been in this regard. He swore to me he would never let something like that happen to me again and to this day he’s kept his word. For a while he had guys on Michael, making it so he never came within a few states of me and my mom. It kept me from looking over my shoulder.
-He makes me feel safe.
-The money—does this make me a terrible person?
I stare at the word for what feels like an eternity, wondering if I really am with Matt for the money. Will has asked me on more than one occasion if that’s the case, and every time I deny it. Matt wasn’t wealthy in the beginning, and to be honest I loved him more then. He was ambitious, yet humble, something that he seems to lack now. He’d become one of those men, one with ambition fueled by money and power. A man of humility completely forgotten as his bank balance grew.
-Security, comfort, stability? Being with Will = chaos??
I circle the word chaos at least five times before I set the pen down. But what do I actually like about Matthew as a person? Okay, go.
-Once upon a time he did make me laugh…harder than anyone.
-Good-looking
-Intelligent
I look back and forth between the two columns. Is there anything that he has that Will doesn’t? Will doesn’t know anything about the skeletons in my closet, the ones that Matthew has been helping me fight for years. Would Will help me the same way if he knew? I rub my forehead willing away the headache that I can feel forming behind my eyes. I stare at the sheets as I attempt to commit the lists to memory before I send it through the shredder.
I arrive at Will’s office at noon and sit in my usual seat and try to busy myself with my phone to avoid Vanessa’s judgmental gaze. “Dr. Montgomery is just finishing up a session. It’s running a little long,” she says.
I look up, giving a simple nod. “Okay.”
“Would you like some water or tea?” she asks.
“No, thank you.” I smile before turning my gaze back to my phone. I mindlessly delete a slew of emails alerting me about sales, promotions, and new products.
Do I ever get any emails anymore about anything important? When did this become my life?
Once upon a time, the ping of an email used to excite me and now I feel a sense of dread as I know it’s just another business begging me to buy their product.
I hear a door open and I can’t control the physiological reactions to knowing he’s near. My skin breaks out in goose bumps, my mouth goes dry, and I feel my heart begin to race. But most importantly, I feel the space between my legs throb with need.
However, nothing could have prepared me for what I see when I look up: a beautiful, blonde woman walks out of his office by herself. Will is a marriage counselor and to my understanding that means that there should be two people in that session.
Unless he’s counseling her the same way he counsels me. The thought causes another physiological reaction—nausea. I let out a long breath.
“Thank you so much for still seeing me, Dr. Montgomery. I’ll see you next week,” the blonde says.
“You’re welcome. Talk to Mr. Goodman about what we discussed and I will be in touch sometime before next week to follow up.” It all seems professional. Of course, we are that way too. Well, we were… I think Vanessa knows we have a different relationship than he does with anyone else that he counsels. I watch as the woman walks out of the waiting area and then turn my gaze to Will. I know he can see the hurt written all over my face, but his face tells me nothing. Tell me it’s not what I’m thinking, I plead with my eyes.
“Ms. Pierce, come in.”
* * *
I FOLLOW HIM THROUGH HIS office doors without a word. Under normal circumstances, I’d barely be across the threshold before I’d be pressed up against the wall, with his lips covering mine. He would tell me how much he’s missed me, how much he’s thought about me, how he can’t wait to be inside of me, while his hands find their way into my underwear. Today however, he crosses the room immediately and leans against his desk crossing his arms, a defense mechanism I’m all too familiar with. Does he think he needs to protect himself from me?
“Are you sleeping with her too?” I ask, all of the air leaving my lungs as I brace myself for the answer.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve asking me that.” On the surface, his eyes are cold and angry, but I can see the hurt lurking beneath the layers as he struggles with the fact that my question insinuates that I don’t trust him.
And yet, he didn’t say no.
I find myself wanting to turn around and run. Run far away from Will, from this room, from this whole situation that is getting more complicated by the day. Turn around, Charley. I don’t know how long I’m going to hold up without crying as anxiety blooms in my chest. My mind wanders back to that word on my list. Chaos. In the midst of all of the chaos, being with Will brings me peace, but I’ll be damned if I share him with anyone else. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, but so be it.
I’ll own it.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I bite out as I attempt to turn my sadness into anger.
“Because it’s fucking insulting,” he says. “And it makes you a hypocrite. You’re married, Charlotte.”
“So, what, you’ve been sleeping with women this whole time? These past four months? You know Matthew and I aren’t having sex.”
He stares at me for a second and I want to smack the smug look off of his face. “So, in an effort to ‘repair your marriage,’” he says using his hands to indicate air quotes, “you’re telling me you didn’t have sex on Monday? Or yesterday?”
It’s taking everything out of me to stay strong and not to cry, but his words crush me. How could he think it would be that easy? After everything that has happened between us, that I could jump back into bed with another man—even if he is my husband. “You’re an asshole.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” he repeats my words back to me.
“Because it’s fucking insulting.” I do the same. “Are you sleeping with that woman, too? How many of us are you sharing your ‘expertise’ with? Is there a slew of us? Do all of us get this special treatment? Thank God we’re u
sing condoms,” I snort as I attempt to hide the hurt in my voice.
“Is that what you think?” he yells and my eyes widen. Will never raises his voice. “Is that what you really fucking think?” he repeats as he stalks his way toward me. I take a few steps back and soon I’m against the wall. “You can’t actually believe that.” His nostrils flare signaling that he’s as turned on as I am. I push back against his chest because as turned on as I am, there’s no way I’m letting him touch me without answers.
“Will, cut the shit, did you fuck that woman or not?”
He chuckles and I am so angry with how he’s acting I could strangle him. “Did you fuck Wells?”
“NO, YOU ASSHOLE. God, and even if I had…you KNEW what you were getting yourself into. You knew I had a husband—”
“You’re telling me that you can fuck other people but I can’t?”
“It’s not the same and you know it!”
“It’s a little bit the same,” he says, condescendingly and I resist the urge to take off my four-inch heel and haul it at him.
“Answer my fucking question!”
“No, Charlotte. I did not fuck Mrs. Goodman. You are the only one of my patients that I’m risking my entire practice for,” he says, making his way toward his bar to pour us both a drink. “But let’s circle back to what you said—so you’re allowed to have sex with Wells, but I can’t as a single man, have sex with anyone else? Please explain that logic to me because I fail to see it.”
“Don’t patronize me,” I growl at him. “I never said I was ‘allowed’ to do anything. And…I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that you were single,” I say crossing my arms across my chest. “So, what, because you thought I had sex with Matthew, you were going to have sex with someone else to get back at me? Mature, Will.” I reach for the glass that he’s poured me and take a sip eyeing him over the glass.”
He shakes his head. “You drive me crazy, woman.”
“Ditto.”
He downs his drink in one gulp, staring at me the entire time. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip to catch a drop of bourbon before moving into my personal space. “But I am fucking crazy about you.”
My heart starts to pound in my chest as I feel his lips touch my cheek and move down my neck, setting the skin on fire. “Ditto,” I repeat.
“There’s no one else, Charley.” I clench at his words. I feel his tongue moving back and forth over my pulse point and I convulse, gripping his shoulders just to stay upright. I’m expecting his tongue to find my mouth at any moment so I’m shocked when I feel him move away from me. I open my eyes and look at him questioningly as he backs away slowly. “You came in here accusing me of sleeping with another patient.”
“I thought—”
“I very well know what you thought, Charley. I think it every time you walk out that door with your motherfucking husband,” he shouts. “That’s the whole point!” I don’t say anything because what can I say?
“I’m not having sex with him. I haven’t…since we started” I say quietly.
“But how long is that going to last?” He walks to his desk and sits down, then pulls off his glasses and tosses them on the desk before rubbing his forehead. He leans back and I can’t help but admire how unbelievably gorgeous he looks at the moment. It makes me want to drop to my knees and suck him off under his desk. “How long before Matthew sits you down and says ‘we should have sex tonight.’”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Oh? You haven’t had sex in four months and you think—”
“Five,” I interrupt him.
“Okay, you haven’t had sex in five months and you think he’s not eventually going to want to do something about that?”
“What difference does that make? I can say no,” I correct myself. “I will say no.”
“He already thinks you’re cheating on him.”
“Sleeping with him won’t change that. Why are we even having this conversation?” I move toward him, and perch myself on his desk. I kick my shoes off toward the floor before I let my perfectly painted foot stroke his thigh. “There are so many other things we should be doing,” I say, trying to divert the conversation away from my husband.
Will does have a point. How long can I keep Matt at arm’s length and out of my panties?
“Charley, I think we should stop this.”
“Stop what?” My eyes widen. I can’t fathom the words he’s saying.
“This,” he says pointing back and forth between us.
I feel like someone has punched me in the stomach. “You don’t mean that.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t I? I have to watch you walk out that door every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I can only talk to you certain hours of the day. You are MARRIED, Charley. And now your husband suspects you’re cheating on him. We can’t keep doing this.”
I stop my foot from inching toward his crotch and hop off his desk. “I would never… I wouldn’t have sex with him while you and I are…” I stomp my foot in frustration over how vulnerable I feel right now. “How dare you do this!” I exclaim and his eyes widen at my outburst. “I know that I am not in the most ideal situation right now. But Jesus Christ, Will, YOU seduced me. You came on to me! You knew what you were doing the second you summoned me here for a ‘private session.’ And now that you’ve completely turned my world upside down…completely changed my life—changed me, you’re out? Fuck you. Fuck you and the morals you’ve seemed to acquire overnight.” I reach down in an effort to snatch my shoes when I’m pushed down and bent over his desk, the cool wood against my cheek.
“You must have lost your mind talking to me like that, Charlotte,” he growls in my ear.
I feel his foot knock my left foot away from my right separating my legs and I feel his hand wrapping around my thigh underneath the loose-fitting dress that I wore when I thought we’d be at it nonstop for three hours. He wastes no time finding his way into my panties and rubbing. Hard.
“I am not out,” he says in my ear. He pulls my hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulls hard, hauling me to his chest. He pulls my dress up over my head, my back still to his front and his lips go to my neck as he vigorously continues to finger me. The room is completely silent, the only noises are my moans and the slurping sound of my juices coating his fingers as they move in and out of me. I feel my orgasm nearing and he must as well because he roughly removes his fingers from inside of me. I turn around to look at him.
“What the fuck?”
“Take off your panties,” he demands.
“Make me.” I put my hands on my hips.
His gaze darkens. “If I have to take them off you, Charlotte… It’s going to hurt.”
I take a step toward him and finger the lapel on what I know to be a very expensive dress shirt. “I’d like to see you try.” I put my hands on his shirt and rip it open, sending the buttons flying in all directions. His eyes shoot fire at me when he pushes me onto the desk, hard.
“Goddammit, Charley. What the fuck?”
His hands find my breasts through my bra. I lean back as I enjoy the feeling when I hear a loud rip. My eyes shoot open and I look down to see my very expensive La Perla bra in two pieces in his hands. “You asshole!” I scream. “That bra was three hundred dollars and it was my favorite!” I push him hard against his chest before I launch myself at him. He catches me in one swoop and my legs wrap around his waist instantly as I kiss him with every feeling I have moving through my body.
Anger.
Fear.
Lust.
His teeth bite down on my bottom lip and I moan at his animalistic behavior as I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed this aggressively. His hands find the back of my head as he continues to lick his way into my mouth, his tongue relentless in its search for mine.
“You are mine, Charlotte. If I want to rip your bra in half, I’ll rip your bra in fucking half.”
“You’re buying me a new one.”
In this momen
t, I’ve realized Will and I will be engaging in a different form of intimacy. Angry sex.
“Have your husband buy you one,” he snaps. “Tell him your marriage counselor ripped it off of you before he fucked you so hard you didn’t know your own name,” he says before he slams us against the wall. I hear a picture crash to the ground but can’t be bothered to inspect the damage.
I can’t see or feel anything but the man holding me up. I don’t know anything but him.
“Hold on, baby,” he demands and I obey his command, wrapping my hands around his neck and locking my legs tighter around his waist. Let’s face it; I would do anything he asks in this moment. He rips my underwear from my body and I moan when I feel the fabric against my clit the moment before it’s gone. He presses his body into mine, rubbing his cock against me, his hard member hidden by slacks rubbing against my bare pussy. I hope he has a change of clothes because not only did I destroy his shirt, my arousal is going to be all over the crotch of his pants.
He’ll be able to smell me for the rest of the day.
He stops moving against me. His body freezes and when I look up into his eyes he’s staring straight at me. “You are so beautiful, Charlotte. It almost hurts to look at you. To know that you aren’t mine to look at.”
His lips are no more than a centimeter from mine allowing me to feel his warm breath on my lips. I run my tongue over my bottom lip, desperate to create some moisture in my mouth as it’s run dry over the intensity of this moment. “Will,” I breathe out, my emotions getting the better of me, “I know this is difficult—” I start but he interrupts me.
“I want to mark you,” he presses his face against my neck and I feel his teeth grazing the skin.
“You know your options,” I moan out.
“No,” he says. “Somewhere visible.”
“Wha-what?”
“I want to leave a bite mark somewhere that he can see. I want him to know that he doesn’t own you, Charlotte Pierce. Not anymore. You belong to me now,” he growls in my ear before he bites down. Normally I would give him an earful for that kind of bullshit but I would be lying if I said his need to possess me didn’t turn me on even more.