Our bodies work in complete harmony, like they know each other soul deep, our tongues lapping lazily. He rolls us and pushes me up on his lap, mumbling and shaking his head when I grind down hard, feeling him hit my womb. Strong fingers dig into my thighs and hold tight, his cheeks puffing out as his gray eyes watch me riding him slowly. One hand comes up and claims my neck, pulling me down to his mouth. I maintain my rhythm, circling my hips onto him, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. Fighting off the notion that there won’t be is harder than I want to admit, because that would be facing my reality. He’s not mine. I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me.
“Annie,” he growls, like he’s read my thoughts, pushing me over to my back and slipping back in quickly. His face is stern, his jaw tight. “Stop.” He executes a perfect drive and holds himself deep and high, watching me unravel beneath him. “Focus on now. On this. On us.”
I shout my frustration, my back bowing on the bed as I fight the unwanted thoughts away. “Make me forget!” I yell, throwing my arms over his shoulders and clawing at his back, hiding my face in his neck.
“Damn it, Annie.” His pace speeds up, dousing my tormented conscience with a pleasure like no other. My eyes spring open, my hips flexing to meet his. “There she is,” Jack murmurs, nudging my face from its hiding place and slamming his mouth to mine, swallowing down my moans. Sinking his teeth into my bottom lip, he pulls away and stares down at me. “Your face is a fucking picture.”
“Jack,” I breathe, seizing the telltale pressure that’s settling in my core and locking it down. “Faster.”
He picks up his pace and pistons back and forth, our lovemaking turning frantic as we both search for our release. “Oh shit!” he yells, jacking himself up on his arms, getting more leverage behind his drives. His face is pouring with sweat, his gray eyes wide with wonder.
I can feel him expanding within me, the pressure getting too much. Jack’s head drops back, and he shouts to the ceiling, stilling suddenly above me. Then he jerks and the pulse of his cock, followed by a low, rough moan, signals he’s gone. One deep breath in, and his face twists as he withdraws and slowly pushes forward, the carefully calculated move taking me into ecstasy with him. My legs lock and I pull him down to my chest, tightening my inner muscles on slow, even pulls. Our moans are collective and full of fulfillment, and they stretch out for an age until both of our bodies go lax and we’re heaving against each other, trying to catch our breaths.
I feel totally overcome, almost relieved that this time was everything I remembered. Powerful, emotional, and mind-blanking. My thoughts sting. I shouldn’t be relieved. I should be panicking, because the thought of letting him go is about as painful as any.
I sink my nose into his neck and tighten my arms around his shoulders, clinging onto him. It feels so natural, so right, and when he responds, sighing despondently and holding me strongly, hopeless tears escape and stream down my cheeks.
“Stop,” Jack whispers, sounding as overcome by emotion as I am. “Please don’t cry.”
I shake my head into him, trying to rein it in, but I feel so fraught, unsure, and vulnerable. The feelings are new to me, and I have no idea what to do with them. There’s no doubt I’ve just increased the difficulty of my situation. I know I should have resisted him, pushed him away and stood firm, but my integrity and morals drown at the sight of him. My want for him, maybe even my greed, make it unbearably hard for me to reject him when he’s near. Not that he’s letting me. I’ve fallen into a black hole of hopelessness and though I know I need to drag myself out before I lose myself in it forever, I fear I’ll never be able to refuse him. I’m frightened to death that an addiction to Jack is rooting itself deep inside of me and I’m even more scared that I won’t let anything stand in my way of taking what I can get. Not my morals, not my conscience…and not even his wife.
The silence stretches for too long, leaving nothing but quiet for me to torture myself with. I can walk away. I can end this now. Yet my arms don’t release him until he pushes himself up, peeling his body from mine and slowly lifting his hips. His semi-erect cock slips free and he rolls to his back beside me, leaving me feeling abandoned and hurt. I glance across to him and find him staring at the ceiling, one arm splayed over his head, his other resting on his stomach. I want to know what he’s thinking. I also don’t want to know, so before I let my curiosity get the better of me, I get up from the bed and go to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me.
I look at my naked body in the mirror, reaching up to feel my damp cheeks. My nipples are still flushed pink with desire and the inside of my thigh is glistening with evidence of our combined release. Lifting my gaze to the reflection of my face, I see despondency in my green eyes. I also see words springing into the air around my head. Adulterer. Weak. Immoral. Heartless bitch. My hands meet the edge of the sink and my head drops, unable to face myself. I don’t know this woman. What have I become?
A light tap on the bathroom door interrupts my self-loathing thoughts and pulls my heavy head up. “Annie?” Jack’s soft voice is evidence that he knows damn well what I’m doing in here. Beating myself up. Ripping myself to shreds. “Can I come in?”
The lump in my throat won’t allow me to talk, so I nod like an idiot, even though he can’t see me. It’s beyond a stupid idea to invite him in, but stupid seems to be controlling me these days. The door quietly opens and his beautiful head peeks around nervously, searching me out. His brown hair is a mussed mess, his gray eyes still bright. It’s been minutes since I last saw him, but it’s like seeing him for the first time all over again. The thud of my heart, the rise of my body temperature. I stare at him in the reflection of the mirror, unwilling to look away. Or unable to. The understanding on his face nearly cripples me. He pushes the door all the way open and walks with purpose toward me, turning me around and yanking me into his chest, hugging me fiercely.
My emotions get too much to hold back. “This isn’t me.” I sob into his chest, finding comfort in the smell of his clean sweat. It’s something else that catapults me back to the night that I fear will haunt me forever.
“It’s not me, either, Annie.”
“Then why are we here?”
He lifts me to his body and encases me in his hold. “Because I know it’s where I should be,” he whispers, almost solemn.
My heart clenches in my chest painfully. I think every other person on the planet would disagree with Jack. He should be with his wife. Not here with me, and that notion pains me. I don’t know what’s happening. This is so crazy. He’s still virtually a stranger to me, but the thought of not seeing him again is unbearable. The question what now? hangs from my tongue, but something stops me from asking. It’s fear.
“Come,” he breathes, steadying me on my feet and taking my hand. “I need some caffeine.” Leading me through my apartment, he finds his way to my kitchen without any direction and indicates the cupboards. “Mugs?”
I smile, trying to disregard how perfect he looks standing naked in my kitchen. “Yes.”
He matches my smile, pulling two down. “Ask me how I knew that.”