The Forbidden

“God!” I shout on a particularly brutal drive.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, not slowing in his pace, continuing to smash into me like a depraved madman.

‘”No!” I scream, dropping my head and dragging my lids open. I find his eyes are just as wild as his pace. I almost snarl, yanking at his hair viciously.

He grins and ups his stride, digging his fingers into my thighs further. “Are you close?”

“Yes!” My orgasm takes me by surprise, exploding between my thighs and robbing me of breath. My whole body starts to convulse uncontrollably, and my hearing becomes muffled from the pounding of my pulse in my ears. The muscles in my neck fail and my head collapses forward onto his shoulder, the waves of an orgasm so intense ripping through my body ruthlessly. It’s almost too much to take. I’m limp against Jack, still being pushed up the wall as the warmth of his seed fills me until he’s rocking gently into me, gulping for oxygen.

“Jesus, that was intense,” he pants, folding to the floor and taking me with him. I spread myself over him, my cheek against the center of his chest, my palm resting on his pec. We stay on the hard floor of the bathroom for an age, a tangle of arms and legs, both of us heaving loudly. I feel dazed and sucked dry of energy.

“Bath?” he asks on a labored breath, starting to fiddle with a lock of my dark hair. I hum my half-hearted agreement. I can’t move. “Come.” He wrestles me up from the floor and holds me up with one arm, removing my underwear with the other. Lifting me, he places me in the tub and I immediately sink down into the water, sighing my appreciation. The heat is an instant relief for my muscles. “Move up,” Jack says, stepping in.

Shuffling forward, I wait for him to settle behind me before reclining and coming to rest on his chest. His legs open and his arms come around and hold me, his nose falling into my neck. “That was good.”

I nod my agreement, still working to catch my breath. He laughs lightly and rests back, placing a palm on my forehead to encourage me with him. His fingertips glide up my wet thighs, onto my stomach and up toward my breasts. My nipples harden simply by the closeness of his touch.

“Happy to see me?” he teases, reaching them and circling the dark edges slowly.

“I’m always happy to see you.” I shudder atop him, resting my hands on his thighs and smoothing across his dark hairs. “This is nice,” I muse quietly, closing my eyes. It’s relaxed and peaceful. Totally blissful. “Thank you for my gifts.”

“And thank you for mine,” he counters, making me smile into my darkness. “I’ve been thinking.”

“What about?”

“About snatching a whole weekend with you.”

My eyes spring open. “How?” I ask, trying not to let my excitement run away with me. A whole weekend with Jack? I’m giddy at the mere suggestion.

“There’s a construction convention next weekend. I’m signed up, but I don’t actually need to be there.”

I turn myself over so I’m lying front down on his chest. He must see the exhilaration in my eyes. “Where?”

“Liverpool. Friday night through to Monday morning. Do you think you could come?” His hand meets my cheek and pushes some wet strands of my hair away from my face. I mentally race through my diary: nothing too important springs to mind. I can tell the girls and Micky that there’s some architect exhibition or something. They won’t check, and they definitely won’t volunteer to come.

“What will we do?” I ask, already planning it all in my head. We’ll be like a normal couple. No sneaking around or looking over our shoulders. I’m getting more excited by the minute.

“We’ll eat out, go shopping.” He mirrors my smile. “We’ll just be together.”

I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve. I’d happily hide in a hotel for two full days as long as Jack is with me. “Lots of affection?”

His smile cracks and he laughs, sliding his palms under my arms and pulling me up his chest. Our noses meet, our eyes hold. “Lots and lots of affection.”

“Then I’m in.” I seal our mouths and seal the deal, unable to wipe the huge grin from my face. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either, gorgeous.” Jack sucks on my bottom lip until it pops from his mouth. “Richard knows about us.” His declaration comes from left field, even though I wondered when I caught him watching Jack and me.

My heart jumps a little, suddenly worried. “Did you tell him?”

“I didn’t need to.”

My eyes drop to Jack’s chin and dart. “We haven’t been careless.”

Jack pulls my chin up and smiles. “I work closely with him, Annie. I can’t hide my happiness when you’re around.”

I mirror his beam, only mildly. I’m worried. “He wouldn’t say anything, would he?”

“God, no.” He laughs at the suggestion. “He’s a good guy, and he knows…” Jack trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish. Richard knows what Stephanie is like. That’s what he was going to say. I remember a few occasions when Richard passed comment, or muttered something under his breath when Jack’s wife turned up on site in a deranged fit.

Jack takes a breath and kisses my nose. “Our secret is safe. Now, tell me about your week.”

Our secret. I so wish we weren’t a secret. I let Jack turn me back over, and he curls his forearms around my shoulders, keeping his face close to mine. We lie there for over an hour while I give him a rerun of my projects. He drains the tub a little every now and then and tops it back up with hot water to keep us warm. He listens and asks questions, and never once does he sound bored. I love how he can just let me ramble on about structures and technical stuff and he listens, speaking up when he has a suggestion or opinion. It works in reverse. I could listen to Jack reel off any old gobbledygook, just to hear his voice. Just to know he’s close enough to hear.

Once we’ve got out and dried ourselves off, we dress and the atmosphere noticeably changes. We’re not chatting easily anymore. I watch him while I blast my hair dry. He’s sitting on the couch checking his phone, but he’s not totally focused and there’s an air of despondency around him. I wonder what he’s thinking, seeing him look up blankly to the wall every now and then, lost in thought.

When I’m done and have gathered all of my things, I wander through to him. “Ready?”

He slowly stands. I can see it takes some effort, his body appearing weighted down by something. “Ready,” he confirms, slipping his phone into his pocket. He closes the gap between us and pulls me in for a hug, probably one of the tightest he’s ever given me. “I hate this part,” he whispers.