Mister West

by R. J. Lewis

  I take it.

  We run back the way we came.

  He pulls me close to his side, like he’s shielding me from the wind. It’s cold. Freezing actually. I’m shivering and laughing and he’s stopping often to run his hands up and down my arms to warm me.

  He’s so fucking sweet, it melts me.

  My hair is ruined. My clothes are saturated. I’m aware the cropped sweater I’m wearing is glued to my waist and part of my belly is showing. There are already puddles on the ground, and I step into them in my hurry, yelping as it sinks into my shoes. I hear his laughter grow at the sounds I’m making.

  “Stop laughing!” I scold him. “I have holes in my shoes!”

  He picks me up and I scream in surprise. He makes me wrap my legs around his hips. “Hold on, sweet siren of mine.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck as he takes off down the streets, wading into the puddles so I don’t have to. He’s holding my ass with one hand and the other is wrapped around me, holding me tightly against him. I bury my nose into his neck, inhaling. I smell him, his cologne, and the bar. I get a funny urge to lick his skin just to see what he tastes like.

  As miserable as it is – as it sounds – I wouldn’t be anywhere else. There’s a fervent urgency in his hold of me. He wants me against him, and he grips me like it isn’t close enough still.

  I see his parked car. He’s stopped running and his chest is moving fast as we walks over. He pulls back to look at me, and I pull back too. We stare at each other, and all I can think about in that moment is his soft admission. I like you, Ivy Montcalm. His breaths come out of him harder as his gaze roams my face. My heart starts to beat harder. He squeezes me closer. I let my forehead fall to his.

  “Ivy…” he whispers passionately, sending flutters everywhere through my body. “I want to consume you. Breathe you in. I want you everywhere, Ivy…”

  He walks, not stopping. He passes his car and steps off the sidewalk. The rain stops hitting us. I look up at the tree he’s sheltered us in. He doesn’t stop moving until my back is against the tree trunk. I feel it against my back and shiver, but not from the cold.

  “Just want a touch, Ivy…” he continues to whisper. “Just want to touch you, temptress.”

  His hands are everywhere. Running down my arms, my thighs, my ass, my spine. He brings them up and cradles my face, looking at me, bumping his nose against mine, lightly brushing his lips against mine but not kissing me. He just watches me, holding me. I think he’s waiting for me to give in.

  I bring my hand up and run my fingers down the side of his face. His eyes flutter shut, as if he’s savoring my touch. I want to take his ache away. He’s been hurting for my touch, and it’s been no different for me.

  I press my lips against his, lightly kissing him. He opens his mouth, accepting my kiss, and then he’s pressing me against the tree, every inch of him glued to every part of me. My legs tighten around him. Sparks shoot up my belly, warming me. I pant against his mouth, waiting for him to kiss me. To really kiss me. But he’s not moving his lips. His eyes are shut, his brows are pinched together.

  I know he wants this. His desire is palpable. It’s all around us. I can feel him hardening between my legs. I shiver at the feeling. My lips tremble and he feels it. He opens his eyes slowly, staring into me.

  “Aidan,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb against his cheek, begging for a response.

  He pulls away, glimpsing at my mouth. The hunger grows. His eyelids grow heavy and his hand is squeezing my thigh. Kiss me, Mr West, kiss the fuck out of me.

  Then, very slowly, he lets me go. I slide down his body, feeling every inch of me rub against the length of him. He plants me on my feet and steps back.

  I’m cold straight away. Cold from the weather. Colder from his rejection. Yet it burns to part from him. It’s so bizarre, the contrast of it. He moves toward the car, getting out from under the shelter of the tree. I follow, dizzy, confused, trying to catch up to the sudden flip.

  Just before he gets to the car, he spins back around and faces me. I freeze at the look of him. He’s still panting. Still…hurting. My lips part and I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what just happened.

  The rain is coming down in sheets. He’s taking the full brunt of it, yet he appears unbothered by it. He’s just looking at me.

  “Have you fucked him?”

  His question is a shot to my chest. I’m stunned.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “Have you fucked your husband, Ivy?” he asks again, his tone hard. “I need to know. I just need to know if you’ve fucked him.”

  “Why are you asking this?” I retort. It’s come out of nowhere.

  “I need to know if you’ve fucked him since we’ve been talking. That’s it. I just need to know, Ivy. I’m sick of wondering, sick of picturing you with another man. Sick of laying in bed at night and thinking you're being touched in that exact moment. Please…” He looks tormented, his chest moving faster. “Tell me.”

  “You’re asking a personal question.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t have to answer.”

  “You don’t.”

  I waver, staring back at him. My chest is tearing apart. That lava he was describing before is running through my veins. We’ve both been wondering the same things.

  I grit my teeth. “Have you fucked anyone?” I return, balling my hands to stop them from shaking.

  He nods slowly. “Yes.” My face falls when he quickly adds, “Let me explain.”

  I blink back tears, feeling gutted. “You don’t need to. I told you before it’s none of my business –”

  “That’s bullshit,” he bites back, his expression stern now.

  I look away, and he comes to me. I shake my head. “No, please don’t come closer –”

  “It was before we talked, before I reached out to you,” he cuts in quickly, sounding desperate. “I only went after her because she looked like you. I needed her to look like you. It felt wooden and wrong. Then I thought of your face. I thought of the red strands in your hair. I thought of your lips. I came thinking of you. As wrong as it was, God help me, it’s the truth.”

  I let his words soak in. I stare at him, unsure why I feel like I want to cry.

  “I’m all twisted up, Ivy,” he continues, voice straining. “I can’t describe this feeling.”

  “What are you feeling?”

  “Tortured anguish.” He looks harder at me. “Tell me. Tell me if he’s touched you since we’ve been talking.”

  I shake my head. “No, Aidan, he hasn’t. We haven’t –”

  “Don’t sleep with him,” he demands.

  “We’re not…we’re not even sharing the same bed, Aidan. I told him it’s over. I tried ending it weeks ago…”

  “Tried?”

  “He won’t let me talk to him.”

  “Just leave.”

  “And I will –”

  “I want to do this right. I’ve waited so long, Ivy. I want you out. Come stay with me.”

  Stay with him? What does he mean by that? He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He can’t be serious, and I can’t do that either.

  “No, Aidan, I can’t do that,” I tell him.

  “Why?”

  “I just can’t!”

  “Is it pride?”

  “No.”

  “You might regret leaving?”

  “No!”

  “Then come home with me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying –”

  “What if I do?”

  “Aidan, stop.”

  He turns away from me and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He won’t look at me. I come up behind him.

  “Aidan...”

  He digs his key out of his pocket and presses a button. The car roars to life. I hurry to him before he gets in.

  I grab his arm. “Aidan, wait.”

  He doesn’t answer. He just turns his head to look down at me, waiting. But I don’t even
know what I want to say. My mouth is open, but no words are coming out. In response, he stiffens a nod and I let go.

  He slips into the car and waits for me. The heater is already blasting when I get in. I’m a drenched mess and I’m leaving a puddle in my seat. I feel awkward, like I should say something, but Aidan is already driving and won’t look at me. My body is turned in his direction, my eyes are on his profile. I’m begging for a look – a quick glance – anything to ease this growing tension.

  I feel like I’ve fucked up. Like this is my fault. I shouldn’t have come out with him. I shouldn’t be talking to him at all. Not while I have all this mess around me to clean up. He deserves better. Maybe he’s realizing that. My heart dips in my chest.

  “Don’t be upset with me,” I plead, and the words are falling from my mouth. “Please, Aidan. I can’t bear it. Don’t stop talking to me. Please. It’s all that keeps me going sometimes.”

  He pulls over on the side of the road straight away.

  “Hey,” he says sweetly, grabbing my arm. He pulls me to him. I crawl into his lap, wrapped in his arms. I bury my face in his soaked shirt so he doesn’t see the panic on my face.

  “Hey,” he repeats, running a hand down my side. “Nothing changes, Ivy. I’m waiting, alright? I’m here.”

  “I don’t want you to disappear,” I beg. “Don’t disappear on me after this –”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I fucked up.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. This is my fault.”

  “It’s not.”

  “I can’t help myself, Aidan. I like you, too. I really do.”

  “Shh.”

  He slides the seat back even more, giving me more space so I’m not hitting the steering wheel. He holds me tightly. I feel relief. His warmth seeps into my bones. I sag against him, shutting my eyes. His scent is all around me. I turn my face so that it’s buried in his neck. I lay a kiss along his neck, another along his jaw. Aidan stiffens, holding me tighter.

  “Ivy…” He sounds pained.

  I pull back to look at him. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”

  He swallows hard. “You know I do.”

  I lay a chaste kiss on his lips, nearly groaning at how soft they are.

  “You said you wanted to taste my lips,” I tell him, hovering near his mouth, staring into his eyes.

  His chest sinks as he stares back. I’ve never seen hunger like this before.

  “Of course I do,” he whispers urgently. “I want nothing more.”

  I lay another kiss on his lips and he shakes his head. “Ivy…”

  "Want me, Aidan."

  "I do. I want you badly, Ivy. I want everything you are...Fuck."

  His strength is waning. I kiss him a few more times, feeling his shuddering breaths escape; I murmur his name, and it sounds like a moan tearing from my throat, and then something in his eyes snap. He balls his hand into my hair, gripping it tight and pulls me away from his face. At any second he’s going to smash his mouth against mine. He’s going to consume me with his mouth and I’m going to be trembling in his lap, begging him to keep going.

  Instead, he shakes, keeping me at a distance.

  “No, Ivy, no.”

  “Why?”

  “You told me you were counting on me to be the strong one.”

  I groan and shake my head. “I didn’t mean it like that –”

  “You meant it exactly like that.”

  I shake my head again. I want him so bad. I want him to kiss me so bad, but… he’s right. We can’t jump into this. He lets go of my hair and I drop my head. Our foreheads touch. He strokes my back, holding me, reassuring me.

  “You need to get out of there,” he says quietly. “You’re off-limits, Ivy.”

  “It’s not that easy to get away…”

  “I know.”

  “The lease is in my name, Aidan. I can’t turn him out, either. He has nowhere to go, and…I’m scared he’s in denial.”

  He searches my eyes. “Do you think you’re creating these obstacles, Ivy?”

  “But they feel like huge obstacles. I’m not made of money.”

  “If it’s a matter of money –”

  I lay my hand over his mouth, silencing him. “No. I could never accept. Don’t even offer that. I have to do this the right way…on my own. I can’t leave him hanging. I don’t want to leave him worse off.”

  He takes my hand and moves it away from his mouth. “Doesn’t he deserve that?”

  “Won’t I just stoop to his level if I do that?”

  He frowns, saying nothing.

  “I just need a little more time, Aidan.”

  “You just begged me to kiss you.”

  “I’m weak. I’m sorry.”

  He looks solemnly at me. “That’s why this – you and me – it can’t happen this way, Ivy. It's why I disappear sometimes. I need to regain my equilibrium, otherwise I'd be standing outside your building every fucking minute, waiting for you to come out so I can take you. We need to slow down.”

  My heart slows when I look at him. I feel panicked again. “So what happens now?”

  He looks down, thinking. “Like I said, my beautiful temptress, I’m just the passenger. You’re the one leading.”

  I nod slowly, understanding. I have to clean this mess up on my own. I can’t rely on anyone else. I just wish I can tell him how scared I am. I don’t know why I can’t silence it, either. The fear is this great big weight around me, following me everywhere. But not here; not when I’m with Aidan.

  He plays with my hair again, twirling a red strand around his finger. I take his other hand and bring it to my face. I have him rest his palm against my cheek and I lean into it, closing my eyes. He strokes my face with his thumb, allowing me this one little touch.

  “You’re strong for pushing me away like that.” My voice sounds sad.

  “No,” he disagrees. “You don’t know what this is doing to me. I feel so much coming to the surface. Not just…what you do to me, Ivy, but everything else I’ve repressed. You’re never really opening just one door with your emotions. All of it comes tumbling out.”

  “I thought you worked through it all. You said you turned to the shadow because it got so big.”

  “I managed it by closing parts of me off. I didn’t do that before. Before, I silenced it by distracting myself with very bad things.”

  I eye him curiously. “Just how rotten were you, Aidan?”

  There’s no amusement in his face. He looks gravely at me. “I was the worst, Ivy. You wouldn’t recognize me. I’m so glad you never knew me back then. You would hate me.”

  “I could never hate you.”

  “No.” He looks serious. “No, Ivy, you would hate me. Rightfully so, too.”

  “You couldn’t have been all bad.”

  “I was a cunt.”

  “Stop.”

  “I was.” He believes it so heartedly. “Do me a favor, beauty, and never look me up.”

  “Aidan…”

  “Shh.” He runs a finger over my lips, silencing me.

  He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. He brings me back to his chest and holds me. I feel him burying his nose in my hair. He lets out a long exhale, as though he’s been holding in a breath this whole time.

  He’s unravelling and I can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for it.

  The rain doesn’t let up. We sit there for who knows how long.

  Then, much too soon, I slide off his lap and we leave.

  Aidan

  I come to a stop outside her building. Ivy looks at the entrance with dread in her eyes. Then she looks back at me. I take her hand and squeeze. We don’t talk. There’s nothing left to say. She turns to the door, and I get this overwhelming urge to stop her. I want to tell her not to get out. To come home with me.

  It takes everything inside me to let her go.

  The rain is still falling. Halfway to the doors, she stops and glances back at me
. Doe-eyed – that’s the only word to describe the way she looks at me. My hands squeeze the steering wheel as she turns back and plods along. She disappears inside the building and I run a hand down my face. I don’t know what sound escapes me. I’ve never heard that sort of sound come out of me.

  I’m torn.

  This is fucking wrecking me.

  Ivy is pure. What you see is what you get. There’s nothing malicious about her. There’s no hidden agenda like there was with cunt face Nina.

  No, Ivy is different.

  In the best way.

  In the most precious way.

  Without thinking, I open the car door and hurry to the doors. I stop just out front and peer in. She’s still in the lobby, standing with her back against the wall next to the elevator. I watch her as she crosses her arms and slides down the wall. She doesn’t want to go up. Is the man she’s married to such a dark fucking cloud? I want to tear him apart if this is the reaction she gives when she thinks no one is looking.

  I turn away before I start banging on the doors, before I start growling at her to let me in. I pace back to the car and slide in. I sit for a while, drenched, staring at the doors, praying she’ll come back out.

  She doesn’t.

  I peel out of there and drive.

  I drive for what feels like hours. I get out of the city and find a bunch of empty roads. I drive, my foot stuck on the pedal, going faster, faster.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt overwhelmed with emotions. Usually, I’m a fucking prune, dried out, no soul stirring. I’m terrified of regressing. Of going back to the man I used to be. It’s only been two years since I was at my worst.

  Cold. I was such a cold motherfucker. Looking for trouble. Looking to hurt. Looking to fuck and drink and lose myself. I hate that man. I hate him with a passion. I remember punching myself at the peak of that loathing. I wanted to hurt myself because it was hurting that fucking man. He reminded me too much of the dirty men in my childhood. And no matter what, I always feel like he’s lurking still inside me.