by Ford, Brynn
I shouldn’t do this again.
I shouldn’t see him again.
I went home to my husband, but not without glancing once out the back window of the cab as we rolled away from Black Ties.
Chapter 10
Vaughn
“My key doesn’t work,” I said to Milo as I struggled to unlock the door to my apartment.
“That’s because it’s not in the key hole, Vaughn.”
“Yes, it is,” I argued, “Right there,” I turned it to the left, but was surprised there was no resistance.
Milo chuckled, “Your hand is no where near the lock, my friend.”
“Fine, you do it then,” I held up the keys to him and let go when he reached out to take them from me, but they fell to the floor in a heap.
He bent to pick them up, “You’re disgustingly wasted. How much did you drink before I picked you up?”
“It was a lot,” a couple of beers, a few shots, a couple more beers.
I was gonna pay for it in the morning.
I stumbled through the door after Milo opened it and kicked off my shoes, using my toes to pull off the heels.
“Straight to bed. Sleep it off, amigo.”
I clapped him on the back, “You’re a good guy, Milo. Hazel is,” I stuttered and my speech slurred a little, “a lucky woman.”
He smiled, “Yes, she is. And she’s waiting very patiently for me to get home. So you need to get your ass to bed, Vaughn.”
“Fine, fine,” I stumbled to the bedroom, “I’m going,” I shuffled around to my side of the bed and fell face first on the pillow, not bothering with a sad attempt to take off my clothes first.
Milo stood in the doorway, “You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Go home.”
“Just a call or text away.”
I didn't respond and I think he thought I had already fallen asleep, but in truth I was afraid to say what was on my mind. I turned my head so I could see him just as he was turning to leave.
“I think Desi's gonna leave me. She won’t touch me. Or fuck me.”
He sighed turning back around, “Vaughn, Desi loves you.”
“That doesn’t mean she won't leave.”
“Let's talk tomorrow. We'll figure it out together, okay?”
He was placating me. He was either too eager to get home to Hazel or didn’t want to talk to me about this when I was three sheets to the wind. In either case, I understood, and I wouldn't keep him here talking to me when he could go home to his own wife.
“Go home. Fuck your wife.”
Milo laughed, “You do realize that’s your sister you're talking about, yes?”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, at least one of us should get laid.”
“Quit with the pity party, Vaughn. Neither of us are getting laid. I'm trying to get home so I can rub Hazel's swollen pregnancy feet and take care of her. Maybe if you were more concerned with Desi's needs than your dick, you wouldn’t be so worried about her leaving you.”
I planted my face in the pillow and held up my middle finger, “Fuck you. You’re right, but fuck you.”
I heard him chuckle, “Sleep it off. Be a better man tomorrow.”
I waved my hand at him without looking up and moments later heard the door shut behind him on the way out.
Even drunk as a pig, I knew he was right. I had known it earlier this evening when I'd gotten pissed at her for not reciprocating my sexual advances and left. I wasn’t doing any of this husband stuff right and I knew it.
Why the fuck did I think a nice dinner one night would fix things?
As if that could’ve been enough to remedy all we’d been through. It was gonna take a hell of a lot more work than that. I was in this for the long haul and if I wanted to make our marriage last, I had to figure out a way to be more patient and avoid jumping down her throat just for denying me some physical connection.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I reached behind me, pulling my cell phone out of my back pocket. I turned it back on and waited, impatiently, for it to load back up.
“Come on, you piece of shit phone,” I said to no one.
I rolled onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow as as my home screen came up.
“Shit,” I grumbled when I saw three missed calls from Desi.
She’d tried to call me. She’d reached out to me. She’d wanted to talk to me and I’d turned off my fucking phone. I quickly typed out a sloppy drunk text and sent it to my girl.
VAUGHN: Hey babe I luv u when r u gonna b home. Sorry am such a dick.
Fuck.
I’m really fucking drunk.
Obviously, I didn’t have the mental facility to reread or correct my ridiculous message. I didn’t give a shit, anyway, I just needed to connect with her. And if sending this stupid text was the only way to do it right now, then that's all I had, so I pressed send.
I checked the time while I waited for her reply. It was only 10:30pm. How had I gotten so drunk so fast? I groaned, reminded sorely that I had outgrown my keg stand days. I was only 26, but this was a good reminder of my limits and that I’d start getting a beer gut if I wasn’t careful.
What does Des call it?
A Dad Bod?
Could you still get a Dad Bod if your kid died?
Shit.
Fuck.
Goddamn motherfucking hell.
It only took one sorry fucking thought about Lucy to drag me to hell. I would trade my carefully sculpted six pack abs for a Dad Bod beer gut in a millisecond if it would bring her back.
I need you, Desi.
Come on, text me back.
I started typing out another drunken text as fast as my fingers would allow.
VAUGHN: I need u. Come home.
I tossed my phone on the mattress beside me and buried my face in the pillow, gripping it underneath with both hands and squeezing it tightly around my head. I fought the urge to scream or jump up and punch a fucking hole in the wall. If it hadn't been for the ping of my cell phone, I would have. If she hadn’t texted back just then, I would have lost my shit entirely. I grabbed it and thanked God she responded.
DESI: Are you okay? Are you drunk? I'll be home soon.
VAUGHN: I need u Des. R we okay? I luv you so much.
I knew I sounded desperate and I was. I just needed my girl. I needed her now. I hoped she could feel my soul cracking so she would hurry home and maybe we could find a way to mend each other.
DESI: I’m downstairs.
Maybe it was just my drunken stupor, but I felt it. I felt her in the building and her presence deactivated my shields. I needed her and I couldn’t wait for her to get here. I rolled and swung my legs off the bed, stumbling when they hit the floor, nearly falling flat on my face. I caught some semblance of balance and walked around the bed heading for the door. I made it as far as the bedroom door when I heard her key in the lock. I heard the door swing open and I stepped out to get to her.
“Vaughn?” her voice was tinged with concern as the door slammed shut behind her.
She turned the corner and ran right into my chest. My presence took her off guard momentarily as she looked up at my face.
“Desi, I –"
She launched at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. It surprised me, but it only took me a beat to do the same. My arms closed around her, pulling her to me as strongly as I could.
“I love you,” I told her, inhaling the scent of her.
She lifted her head to look up at me. I prayed my inebriated state wasn’t leading me to misread her, but her eyes were begging me to kiss her. I didn’t have to guess though, when she rose onto the tops of her toes, grabbing my face in her hands to pull me down to her, and kissing me with a force that threatened to knock me off balance in my drunken state. Her hands slid down the sides of my neck to my shoulders and she dug in her fingernails.
Desi was some kind of sorceress, luring the rage and pain that festered under my skin to the surface and transforming it to lust-fueled n
eed for her. I skirted the edge of sanity, tasting her need as she fed it to me through her kiss. I didn’t know what had changed in just a few hours’ time, why she suddenly seemed so eager with need for me, but I didn’t fucking care. We needed each other.
Fast.
Now.
I grasped the back of her neck, holding her tight to me, and devoured her until she had to pull back just to catch her breath.
“I want you. Now,” my voice rumbled with gruff insistence.
She was breathless, words failing her. At first she looked surprised, confused, unsure. She closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again they were flooded with an insistent sort of need I hadn’t seen before. Her eyes begged, and her fervent nod told me everything I needed to know.
I wrestled her around by the nape of her neck, spinning her to face away from me, and I pushed her quickly into the living room. Bending her forward over the back of the couch, I pinned her in place with my body. I reached around her with my free hand, cupping her breast aggressively and pulling her back to arch against me. I worried for a moment if I was pushing too hard, being too rough, but I only worried for a moment.
I knew she wanted what I was giving her when she moaned, “Oh, God, Vaughn.”
I fisted her hair and pulled gently until her head came back to rest on my shoulder, “I wanna fuck you, Desi. Hard and fast.”
“Yes,” she said and it was just barely a whisper.
I let go of her hair and her breast at the same time and took a small step back. She froze, not daring to move, but I could see her trembling, recklessly impatient for me in the way she always used to be. I slipped my hands inside her pants, and yanked them down off her hips, bringing her panties down with them. I did the same with my jeans and boxer briefs.
“Bend over,” I told her, pressing my hand between her shoulder blades.
Desi bent for me, arching over the couch back where it floated in the center of our living room.
“Please, now,” she begged, “Vaughn, I need it.”
“Fuck,” I hissed.
I grabbed her hips, pulling her ass backward toward me, angling her to take me from behind. I grabbed my cock that was already rock solid and positioned it against her opening, groaning in pleasure to find her already soaking wet for me.
“Tell me you want me, Des.”
“I want you, Vaughn. Fuck me.”
Holding her hip in one hand and my length in the other, I pressed forward, easing my way into her warmth, working my way in at just the right angle to be able to pummel her in moments. I pressed until every inch of me was inside her and held firm long enough to grab both of her hips, gripping her roughly.
“Vaughn, please” she cried out, pleading with me to ride her.
I pulled all the way out and slammed back into her with enough force to unbalance her. She fell forward, bending further at the waist, but I reached out and caught her before she sent both of us toppling over the front of the sofa. I pulled her back to me, clutching her breasts to hold her upright.
I thrust into her only three times that way before she went so weak in the knees that my drunk ass could barely hold her up. Latching onto her waist, I took her down to the ground, getting her on her hands and knees. This gave me the leverage to fuck her the way we both needed. I held nothing back, let myself become heavy handed, rough, forceful. Surprisingly, she encouraged it.
“Yes, baby, please Vaughn, hard, so hard it hurts, please…”
She uttered an endless stream of begging and pleading and telling me how hard she wanted it.
I knew she was nearly there when she dropped down to her elbows, letting her forehead fall to the floor. She twisted her hips, rolling around my cock as I pushed into her harder and faster. The pleading words were replaced by low moans, guiding me to hit just the right spot as they slowly built in crescendo. As soon as I had it figured out, I hit that spot over and over and over again. Her moans morphed and twisted into the whimpers of a woman frantic to come.
I felt it building, I could feel her clenching around my cock and it made me swell. I didn't want to blow until she came first and she was so close. I grunted, fucking her harder, on the verge of losing any semblance of control I had.
Desi writhed, pushing back, circling her hips in tiny, determined circles. She was nearly there, I wanted her to come, needed her to come, but fuck, I couldn’t take the way she moved.
I lost control.
My hips thrust erratically.
A primal roar climbed out from my lungs and bellowed into the space as I spilled every last drop of come inside her.
“No, no, no,” Desi’s distressed, quiet tone floated up from under my growl.
It was a whisper, not meant to be heard. But I’d heard it nonetheless. I was just about to tell her to hang on, that I would finish her off with my mouth, my fingers, my whole fucking fist if she needed it.
But she didn’t even give me the chance.
That’s when it happened. The one thing no man ever wanted to witness his wife doing. The one thing that could rip your dignity to shreds. An indication of the biggest failure.
She faked a fucking orgasm. She would’ve been a damn fine actress, too, if this had been a porno, but it was real life. It was our real fucking life and she had just spun the most unnecessary lie.
Does she really think I can’t tell the difference?
That I don’t know what it feels like when she comes?
Why the fuck did she just do that?
I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol or the disgusting truth that my wife didn’t trust me enough to make sure she came even after I’d finished. In either case, I felt the chill and tingle of the overwhelming need to purge roll over my body and I couldn’t stop it.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I told her as I stood quickly, pulling up my pants and rushing off to the bathroom.
My body forced everything out of me until there was nothing left.
Grief.
Pain.
Rage.
Lust.
Shame.
Hurt.
The alcohol in my system had flooded my emotions, drowned them, and then flushed them out. It allowed me a brief reprieve, a single moment of emptiness, while new emotions crept their way in through my pores.
Coldness.
Darkness.
Despair tried to grip me, but another more insistent feeling wrestled them all away.
Commitment.
It was clear Desi was hiding something from me and I wasn’t okay with that. I was sure as hell gonna get to the bottom of this, but I had to be careful. I was committed to her, long haul, and my first priority had to be taking care of her and guarding her heart.
That goddamn fake orgasm, though, it spoke volumes. The most important thing it told me was that she was okay with lying to me and that hurt. It hurt because she thought she needed to. Somehow she’d lost her trust in me. Somehow she’d forgotten our vows. She held responsibility in the way she shut herself off, but so did I.
So with commitment, I would find a way to win her trust and loyalty back.
Chapter 11
Desi
I was still lying awake at three in the morning. Everything felt awkward and wrong. We both went to bed pretending that the sex was good and everything was business as usual, but I could tell he felt off, too. Though in Vaughn’s case it may have just been the alcohol. He was completely wasted when I got home.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Black Ties and what Law had said to me before sending me home in a cab.
“There are a lot of ways to do this, Blue. It doesn’t have to be sexual.”
I wanted to know what that would be like. To have him control me, command me, give me pain without any promise of sexual gratification. It seemed fitting, really. The fact that I was even still thinking about this was deserving of punishment. I shouldn’t have any want for another man to touch me at all, whether it was to deliver pain or pleasure or otherwise.
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But I couldn’t deny my curiosity. I wanted to be free like Ris, lost to the will of another I trusted.
But do I trust Law?
I think I could.
He’d stuck with me through a horrible moment, a moment where I lost all control of my emotions. He didn’t take advantage of me. He didn’t chastise me or judge me. He took care of me. He supported me. And he did all of that even though we hardly knew each other. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, hit by the truth that Vaughn would do that for me, too, if I’d just let him. But I couldn’t let him. Because every time I looked at him, I thought of Lucy.
Without thinking, I picked up my phone from the nightstand and snuck quietly out of the bedroom, creeping softly over the carpet to the living room. Sitting on the couch, I was reminded of Vaughn fucking me. The way he'd bent me over the couch and took me from behind, the way he’d handled me so roughly in his desperation, it was such a turn on,. It was like we used to be before, all heat and fire and passion. I missed that feeling when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, when we fucked constantly.
It felt so good last night to be that way with him again, but he finished before me. I could’ve told him I wasn’t done yet. I could’ve asked him to finish me off another way. I almost had. I should have. But even as close as I was, something snapped inside me when he came. It was this inexplicable feeling that I didn’t deserve to come after the sneaking around I’d done at Black Ties, that I didn’t deserve to have sexual gratification after spending time with another man, at a sex club no less.
So I faked it, for the first time ever, and it made me feel like shit. I think he knew, but at least he was kind enough to pretend otherwise, which made me feel even worse.
I deserved pain without reward for the piece of shit woman I’d become since Lucy died. At the very least, pain could free me from grieving her loss while I endured it. Before I could stop myself, I typed out a text message.
DESI: So what did you mean when you said we could do this without sex?
