Love is Strange: A Taboo Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  Perhaps the cruelest truth of all is maybe we don’t actually love each other but rather know one cannot survive without the other.

  Of course, it could all be in my head at this point. The sweet serenity of it all is that I’ll never know for sure, nor will I press the issue with her, because at one point we did love each other, and I choose to believe that we still do.

  It’s why I return to her each time.

  It’s why she lets me.

  I have hope that our lives will be different one day, and we’ll go back to how things were. For now, I’ll just hold onto the hope that until that day comes, she won’t tire of me. And maybe someday soon, she’ll ask me to never leave her side again.

  But my biggest hope of all is that the next time she whispers my name into my ear during a quiet, stolen moment, she’ll finally understand our souls were fated for each other.

  Chapter One

  The elevator is creaking slowly up to the main floor of our loft apartment and I’m as nervous as I am excited. Ella should be waiting for me, hopefully with open arms and a kiss, but our last argument was worse than any of the other ones we’ve had before, so I’m not sure how I’m going to be received tonight.

  I hope she won’t be too upset still, because I’ve already forgiven all of the things she said to me in anger. I know her words are never meant to inflict grievous injury to my heart, and I do my best to always forgive her.

  She’s the sun and the moon—every beautiful fucking thing that lights the heavens during the day and illuminates the darkness at night.

  When the elevator door begins to open, I take a deep breath as I make my way toward our door. There are five apartments on this floor, but they all stand empty because I’ve rented them all. I want our nights of bliss to be ours alone and not have to worry or wonder if we’re disturbing anyone else with our passion. I want our days of anguish to be filled with howls of despair and bitter words, but not to be stopped by anyone who would think we need help.

  That’s for us to decide when it’s over and no one else can bring us peace like we can when it’s all said and done.

  And it always finds a way to end. Usually with me being tossed out into the streets while she attempts to regain herself, and I’m okay with that because I love her.

  I clear my throat nervously as my hand finds the door knob. I can’t quite remember what I said or did last night that caused her such anger, but I only hope that she’s forgotten it by now.

  “Hey, I’m home!” I call out, my voice cracking slightly.

  I close the door slowly, hoping for a reply, but no words greet me. She’s still angry with me and I wonder what I’ll have to do this time to make it up to her.

  “Ella? I’m home!” I say again in a stronger voice.

  Nothing.

  She’s pissed.

  I turn the locks on the door before I walk into the kitchen, careful not to glance into the living room where I know she’s sitting. It’s where she stays when I’ve been banished but she always greets me upon return. This is the first time she’s chosen to ignore me, and I feel like my heart might shatter into a million fucking pieces if I don’t hear her voice soon.

  I drop my backpack on the long chair that sits by the window that Ells is so fond of spending hours in watching the world go by, then head to the refrigerator. I pull the door open and shiver slightly as the cool air from inside blasts against me a little stronger than normal and lean down to glance inside. Once I see my gallon jug half full of water, I let the door swing closed.

  I had already forgotten that I turned down the heat in the apartment and raised the temperature to cool on as many of the appliances as I could, the central air conditioning included.

  Ella may not necessarily like a cold home, but I know she needs it right now because it’s the only thing that will keep her calm, and I’m more than willing to take my lumps for it later.

  I hum to myself as I lean against the counter and twist the cap off my jug. I’ve always been thirstier than most for some reason, but my doctor says it’s nothing critical to worry about. I don’t particularly trust medical science, but Ella’s always insisted that I stay hydrated—just in case.

  “Ells, are you hungry?” I call out.

  No answer.

  I don’t understand what the problem is. When we have our far and few in between arguments, she’s always over it by the time I get home and begs me not to leave again, which always makes me smile.

  I fuck up.

  She yells.

  I leave.

  She pines.

  I come home.

  She’s sorry.

  We have make-up sex.

  That’s just how it always is but considering she still doesn’t have anything to say to me, I’m afraid that putting my dick in her mouth may result in her biting it off.

  After I take a healthy swig of water, I set the jug on the counter, then screw the cap back on. I’m starting to get a little agitated by the silence, however, starting another argument because she’s still upset isn’t going to win me any points.

  I guess I’ll just try to talk to her.

  Chapter Two

  Ella is in the recliner, watching me with her perilous eyes, her lips still tight in anger, and I’m nervous. I hate when she stares at me like that and I know I should give her some more time to cool off, but I can’t. I love her too much to try and ignore the situation any longer.

  “Babe, I’m sorry,” I begin quietly, lowering my eyes to the white carpet. “I didn’t mean any of the shit I said to you, and I know you didn’t mean any of what you said to me. Just tell me what to do to fix this.”

  A sigh escapes from somewhere deep inside of her, exiting through her nose, and I glance up at the sound. If she stopped being so goddamn stubborn and opened her mouth to say something—anything—she wouldn’t have sounded like a fading foghorn just now.

  “Come on, Ells,” I say, finally losing my cool. I run a hand back through my hair irritably as I give her a dirty look. “The fucking fun is over now, and you can talk. Even if it’s to tell me to fuck off, say something already!”

  Ella is undeterred by my sudden change in emotion and continues staring at me with that same fucking expression that I left her with.

  I let out my breath in a long-winded sigh as I get to my feet and walk over to her. She never raises her head to look up at me, nor does she use her fingers to dig into the arms of the chair like she always does when I come close to her. She just sits there like a lump, rigid with anger and wrought with determination not to break her stance against me.

  I drop to my knees in front of her and place a hand on either one of hers as gently as I can. Looking into her eyes for some form of permission that never comes, I lean forward and kiss her softly on the lips, but she doesn’t return the favor. I take a deep breath as I move from her lips to her neck, sure that it’ll get a reaction like it always does, but nothing.

  Not even a swallow, or a jerking reaction away from me. Fucking nothing.

  “Stop being so angry,” I whisper, grazing her neck with my lips as I move a hand toward the bottom of her shirt. “I hate it when you’re this angry.”

  Even in her stoic silence, I know that she wants me as much as I want her right now. It’s part of the rules after I come back and we never break the rules.

  I slide a hand underneath her shirt, feeling the smooth porcelain skin I know so well and let out a shuddering breath. I can feel my dick getting hard just at the thought of being inside of Ella right now, proving to her how sorry I am.

  “Ells …” My breath is ragged, consumed with longing for the one person that has always loved me the most. I use both of my hands to pull her shirt off her body. It’s a bit of a struggle at first because she keeps her arms stiffly in place, but I manage and when I do, I see my prize.

  I move my lips down quickly and begin to suckle on her large, firm breasts, biting the nipples gently as I do my best to give her as much pleasure from the action as
I’m getting. But if she’s feeling anything at all, she’s doing a damn fine job at hiding it from me.

  I squeeze one tightly in my hand and glance up into her unforgiving stare, licking and sucking gently as I slide a hand down the length of her body and undo the button on her denim shorts.

  “Tell me you love me,” I whisper as I slide her shorts down as best as I can and begin to circle her clit. She lets out another breath of air, but other than that, she refuses to give me what I want.

  “Do you need me, Ells? I need you so fucking much right now,” I say as I bite down on her nipple again and slide two fingers deep into her cunt.

  She’s wet because that’s how I left her and it’s enough to work with—for now. I let out a groan as I give her nipple one last, hard suck, then get to my feet and lift her body into my arms. She’ll come to her senses again once I lay her down in our bed—she’ll smile, beg me to fuck her until she can’t take it, and I will.

  Because I love her.

  Chapter Three

  Ella is splayed out on the bed beneath me, and as I hover above her, I wonder just how long she’ll be able to hold on to her anger. She’s always told me the best feeling in the world is when I look her in her eyes as I slide my dick into her. I’m ready for this to be over. I’m ready for her to stop playing the part of a spoiled little brat and to show me just how much she missed me.

  “You ready, babe?” I ask gently as I reach down and grab my hard cock. She stares but says nothing. That’ll change in a moment.

  I look down as I press the head of my dick against her opening, then back up into her eyes as I begin to push into her.

  “Fuck,” I moan as I lean my head against her forehead, trying my best not to break eye contact, but I decide that since she still won’t move for me, that it’s lost on her right now.

  It doesn’t deter me, though.

  “I love you, Ells,” I whisper against her lips as I begin to move my hips. My heart begins to beat faster as I push in and out of her, slowly, methodically. I want her to enjoy this as much as I am and the only way to do that is to keep a steady pace until she tells me it’s okay to go faster.

  Ella likes to be in charge in the bedroom and I don’t mind following her commands, but if she doesn’t speak up soon, I’m going to end up nutting inside of her and that will piss her off.

  We want a family, but not one made from anger.

  “Baby, please,” I whisper as my body begins to shake. I’ve never came this fast before because Ella likes to prolong the moment, but since she’s not doing much to help right now, I’m not entirely sure how much longer I’ll be able to hold onto it.

  “Baby, come on,” I urge her through grit teeth, but she says nothing. Doesn’t move, doesn’t push her hips up toward me; nothing.

  In a way, her silence only strengthens my resolve to get her to love me again. I thrust my hips faster and harder than before until I let out a loud groan and fill her with my seed.

  She’ll be angry about it, but I don’t care. If this is what it takes to get her to fucking talk to me, then it’s what I have to do.

  “Holy shit,” I say with a chuckle as I pull out of her and lie on the bed beside her. I turn on my side, push her hair out of her beautiful face, and then slide an arm around her waist.

  “Sorry if that sticks, but maybe now you’ll talk to me?” I ask with a grin.

  She doesn’t.

  Not so much as a glance in my direction and as I close my eyes and let out another sigh, I wonder if we’ll ever be the same way we were again.

  THE LIAR

  Chapter Four

  I can’t fucking believe he did it again.

  I get up from the bed, glancing over my shoulder in anger as Icarus sleeps silently. I’ve told him a thousand times that while I want nothing more than to be able to give him the family he talks about having, he knows I never want him to try when we’ve just argued.

  I don’t want a child born from anger, because in anger is how they’ll thrive, and that’s not fair to them or us.

  As I make my way toward the bathroom, I find myself finally relenting in my anger. It’s hard to maintain it against someone who loves me as desperately as he does, but he has to learn that there are rules in place for a reason.

  I quietly open the door to the bathroom and slip in. Next to the sink, we have a small pantry he installed where there’s nothing but hand towels. Behind me on the wall next to the shower is the larger pantry, where we have the bath towels, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and whatever else he managed to cram in there that he deemed important to have.

  I let out an unhappy sigh as I turn the knobs on the faucets slowly, trying to keep them from making the creaking noise he’s been promising to fix for three weeks now.

  I hold the tips of my fingers underneath the small torrent of water and decide it’s good enough. Reaching for one of the hand towels, I unfold it from its small square shape then refold it again once, holding it under the water, and proceed to clean myself up as best as I can.

  I’ll shower when Icarus wakes up and we’ll more than likely fuck again in the shower, but it’ll be best that way because once he’s done, I’ll remind him about the rules and make him promise to agree to them again.

  I smile slightly as I lean over toward the sink and let more water fall onto the small towel as I think of Icarus. He told me his parents named him that because they had a feeling he would befall the family curse of burning all of his bridges. I remember how sad his eyes were when he told me that story and I remember promising him that as long as he was willing to love me, that I would be the one bridge he could never have to burn.

  But sometimes I wonder.

  His rage can be a thing of terror at times, and even though I’ve always managed to calm him down in the past by making him leave until he’s regained his senses, there seems to be something different about him lately. Something that makes him quick to anger and slow to forgive. I tiptoe around him for the most part because of that—even though I know he would never turn his rage toward me.

  Once I’m satisfied that I’ve done a good enough job that I can for the moment, I toss the small towel into the hamper then quickly wash my hands before turning off the faucet.

  And that’s when I feel him.

  Icarus runs his hands up and down the length of my arms and presses his body against mine.

  “I’m sorry, Ells,” he whispers for what seems like the hundredth time. I lean back against him and tilt my head up, looking into his golden-brown eyes, smiling as best as I can.

  “I know, Rus. I’m sorry too,” I reply, finally admitting that I had some fault in the matter.

  He lets out a huge sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tightly against him.

  “Good. I was starting to get a complex,” he confesses with a nervous laugh.

  “That’ll teach you,” I say with a smirk as I turn to face him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tilt my head to the side, laughing when he makes a goofy face at me.

  “Why don’t we get into the shower and get cleaned up,” he suggests with a salacious wiggle of his eyebrows.

  I giggle, but nod.

  I’ll make us some lunch and when we’re sitting down to eat, we’ll go over the rules again.

  Chapter Five

  “This is fucking great, Ells,” Icarus praises earnestly. I smile as he takes another forkful of yesterday’s lasagna and uses a piece of garlic bread to swipe up some of the cheese and sauce on the plate.

  “Thanks, Rus. I could have made you something fresh; you know I don’t mind,” I reply as I reach down for the hair tie around my wrist and pull my long, blonde hair back into a loose ponytail.

  I clear my throat as I pick up my fork and cut a piece of the meal free, then gingerly place it in my mouth. I know that the eventual silence will cause him to act out, but as long as I keep my eyes on him, he’ll know it’s not for long.

  “Rus?” I begin slowly as soon as I’m done
chewing. “What … what happened last night?”

  “Huh?”

  He furrows his brow in confusion, his fork hovering in front of his face.

  “In bed?” I say as casually as I can.

  “Oh. Well, fuck Ells! Yeah. I know. I’m sorry about that but you wouldn’t talk to me and I couldn’t hold onto it much longer,” he explains with a shrug as he shoves the fork into his mouth.

  “But we promised each other—”

  “I know,” he cuts me off curtly. “I fucked up, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  I swallow a sigh as I rest an elbow on the table, letting the fork fall onto the plate and make a clattering sound.

  I don’t like to be “precious” as he accuses me of being sometimes. I don’t see myself that way; I’m just genuinely upset that this might be the time his seed takes hold and how would I explain this to a child? Mommy and Daddy were pissed off at each other, so we made you? That’s not exactly the kind of thing that would make someone feel loved.

  “Ella, don’t be mad, okay? I’m sorry I’m being such a prick right now. It’s just … the way you were last night when I came home … I thought I lost you, you know?” he says quietly.

  I raise my eyes up at him in surprise. He looks genuinely subdued and my heart aches for him. Rus is so used to losing people in his life—to burning those proverbial bridges, that I don’t think he’d be able to stand it if it happened with us too.

  “How many times do I have to tell you that will never happen?” I ask him in disbelief. He raises his dangerously watering eyes toward me and stares. “Rus, this isn’t anything like I’ve ever had before. What I feel when I’m with you is so hard to put into words, but the only way I’ll leave you is if you want me to and even then, you’ll have to physically pick me up and throw me away.”