Free Falling (Book Three: Exposed)

I stared at her sitting Indian-style on the other side of the bed, wearing the shirt I’d just taken off, buttoned only once just above her navel. She smiled shyly when she caught me gawking as she fought with a wayward string of cheese connecting her lips to a slice of the pizza we’d just ordered. This wasn’t exactly the type of Italian food I had in mind when I called earlier, but I was admittedly satisfied just being here with her – eating pizza by candlelight while sitting in her bed.

Everything about our evening together had been intimate on a level that I hadn’t expected – even beyond the physical connection we’d made. It wasn’t lost on me that I wasn’t supposed to be here, shouldn’t have been enjoying having Sam’s time and attention as much as I was, but…I couldn’t seem to stay away. Deep down I knew that this inability to control myself when it came to her spoke volumes in terms of how I felt about this woman – even after all these years. Still, this wasn’t an acceptable excuse. In that moment, I lowered my head as thoughts of how disappointed and hurt Kira would be, if she were to find out, began to creep in.

What have I done? There was no going back now…

Sam was quiet too, but I couldn’t guess what she was thinking. Did she feel bad too? She wiped her mouth with a napkin and finished swallowing before she spoke. “So…I’m curious about something,” she said quietly, maybe because I hadn’t been very talkative myself.

Confused, I drank from the small bottle of Sprite that we ordered to share. “Curious about what?”

She kept her eyes trained on me. “Did Terrell say something to you about Jason and me?” she asked. “I just get the feeling that you already know.”

I thought back on the conversation that he and I had regarding this very topic. When a faint smile crossed my face, Sam shook her head and laughed a little.

“I knew it. That dude holds water like a wicker basket,” she said, lightheartedly. Terrell was hard to get mad at, especially because you knew that his intentions were almost always good. “Did Maisha tell him?”

I shook my head. “No, he just overheard you two on the phone, I think.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing that the word ‘overheard’ most likely meant ‘eavesdropped’. Since she brought it up, I went ahead and pressed for more details, though. “So…are you guys still together, or…what?”

Her eyes locked on mine for a moment before she reached for a second slice of pizza. “Uh…not anymore, actually. Not as of today.”

I had no idea. I sat there quietly, wondering what happened, but knowing better than to ask – wasn’t really my business. In this particular situation, I had no clue as to what would be considered proper protocol. We’d just finished having mind-blowing sex, so consoling her concerning the breakup issue seemed like the wrong thing to do. “Uhhhh…so, you’re okay?”

She looked at me with a serious look on her face that faded into a smile. “Yeah. I’m good. Perfect, actually.”

I looked her over, letting my eyes linger on her breasts. Perfect seemed like the best word to describe her, but that trace of guilt that was now haunting me made it impossible to stare as long as I really wanted to.

I didn’t bring Jason back up. We ate, I carried the leftovers to the fridge, and then lingered beside Sam’s bed for a moment, contemplating. Did I want to stay? Hell yes. However, did I really want to deal with the emotional aftermath in the morning? Knowing I’d feel even worse for not just going back to my place?

I ignored the answer that came and took my pants back off before climbing into her bed again. She lay there watching as I slipped the shirt she’d borrowed down her arms, tossing it to the floor where it belonged. Just like I remembered her doing whenever we’d shared a bed in the past, Sam inched herself backward until her backside was pressed firmly against my groin. Next she made my arm her pillow and then pulled the covers up. God…I missed this. Thinking of how many moments just like this one we’d missed over the past five years, I placed a kiss on her shoulder.

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