Inhale, Exhale

by Matthews, C. L.

  When he lays me on the counter, sliding my dress up, I whimper. Not the whimper he imagines, though. It’s more from a part of my soul dying, but it sounds close enough.

  “Tell me to stop, Sparkle, and I will. We don’t have to go further.” He kisses my ankle, his lips and scruff sending chills up my body. “But if you let me go ahead, I swear I won’t be able to stop. I’ll fuck you like I’ve always wanted, and I won’t regret a damn second. This isn’t my choice to make, and I won’t take that away from you.”

  How can he do that? Be a gentleman all while being a sinful dishonorable brother?

  Say no.

  Don’t do this.

  I’m so turned on yet disgusted with my actions at the same time.

  Did Jase feel this vile and evil? Kiss to my calf.

  Did he second-guess sticking his dick into her? Kiss to my inner knees.

  How Ellie and I spent days at a time together while she was boning my husband? Kiss to my hips.

  How I babysat Gray almost daily while they were probably fucking behind my back? Kiss to the apex of my thighs.

  Did he question how I’d feel or what fucking someone else would do to us? Kiss to my panty-clad pussy.

  How could he touch me after that? Pretend to love me? Sleep with me when he was with her instead? Nip to my clit through my panties.

  I hate him.

  So as Toby’s mouth grinds over me, making me cry out, I try to shove the doubt away, but after my body hums with an impending orgasm, I stop him.

  I see Jase between my legs. I see my husband clutching my thighs, and when Tobe’s face is there, it freaks me out.

  “I-I can’t.” I tremble with the words.

  Instead of disappointment and anger, he pulls me to the bed in the middle of the room. He lays down on it, his gray gym shorts tented. I’m blushing from the size of that tent and what I’d do to it if a ring wasn’t on my finger, if vows weren’t holding me hostage to a faithless man.

  “Come here, Sparkle,” he murmurs, his voice scratchy, like he’s barely holding in his hunger. It drives me insane, knowing that I turn him on this much, that he wants me this much.

  I slowly pad over to the bed, my legs on either side of him. His hands grip my hips, hauling me to straddle his lap. I feel him beneath me, trapped between my legs with very little barrier.

  “I r-really don’t think this is a good idea, Tobias.”

  His eyes find mine, gauging my emotions like he always does. “Ride my face,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

  He’s serious, his face not nervous nor is it guilty, just desperate. But me? I’m squirming. The brazenness of that suggestion has me wetter but also has me feeling even guiltier.

  “What?” I panic.

  “Put each of those creamy thighs over my face and let me eat your pussy.”

  My mouth hangs open. He’s not joking. It would solve my problem of seeing Jase each time too. I need to stop thinking too much, stop wondering if this makes me as bad as him.

  He smirks at me, licking his bottom lip. His fingers dig into my hips, trying to make me pay attention, but my gaze is hindered by the ring on my left finger, the one that tied me to promises that I still believe in, ones that Jase broke.

  Tobe must see my deterrence because he proceeds to lift my hand to his lips, kissing it. My eyes close in vulnerability of allowing him to kiss a hand that’s his brother’s. His mouth is so warm and gentle, and when he slides the ring off me, I still.

  My eyes open, my uneasiness palpable. That ring is my guard, my safety net, my shackle. I’ve never taken it off. Not for anything.

  “Sparkle,” Toby reassures, his voice kind and caring like the best friend I know. “When this ring is off, he’s not here. When it’s gone, it’s just you and me, okay?”

  I start shaking. Maybe it’s from fear or the realization of my marriage culminating, but it takes over my body. My legs squeeze his hips, trying to stay afloat in the misery of my mind.

  Gathering all the strength I’m sure isn’t real, I nod. His smile is wide and grateful. He places the ring in the nightstand drawer, making me move with him as his body twists. He brings my face down to his, his mouth teasing mine.

  He tastes of sweat, sin, and the worst decisions I’ll ever make, but he smells so manly and musky, and I want to give in. I want everything he offers, even the love I craved and begged for from my husband.

  He’s been here while Jase was running rampant between Ellie’s legs. He’s consoled me while Jase fucked her without condoms. He has stayed while Jase walked away.

  He’s my best friend, and after today, I’m not sure if we’ll be the same. Right now, that’s the last thing on my mind. It’s my last worry, my last confession, my last promise broken.

  I kiss him back, and I block out the fact that his body is different, that his lips don’t taste the same. Even his hands feel different, and his touch feels foreign. I try to shut out that his chest is still soaked in sweat and bare, that his dick is rubbing against me with every rock of my hips.

  But even while it feels wrong, I admit that it’s nice to be wanted and desired. It’s nice to feel a man beneath me, one who wants only me. Who won’t betray my love. Won’t break my heart. Won’t shatter my soul.

  His hands grip my thighs again, lifting me up his body, and I help him. I’m still fully dressed, my peach dress billowing around him. When I reach his upper chest, I freeze momentarily before he hauls me above his mouth. His breath is hot on my center, his hands making their way to my panties.

  No words are spoken as he slides them to the side, his tongue flattening on my core. I moan immediately, unable to hold in the sounds of pleasure. His tongue strokes me, his stubble abrasive to my ass in the sweetest way. The sounds of him grunting mix with my groans of rapture, and I can’t help the way my hips shift with desperation.

  He squeezes my ass with his hands, bringing me closer to him while he eats me ferociously. I lean back, using my hands to hold me. Toby leans with me, bringing his neck and face forward, and I reach for his cock and bring it loose. I feel the velvety skin and shudder. To have a man beneath me while I have all the control of the outcome is intoxicating.

  Bracing myself on my left hand, still getting licked by him, I grab him with my right hand. As I jack him up and down, he twitches and growls. It’s sexy, knowing I’m getting him off this way, making him needy for me.

  He continues his assault on my pussy, and I buck every time he penetrates me with his tongue. I smooth my thumb over his tip, still unable to see him, and feel his precum. Swirling it around him, I imagine putting it into my mouth, using my tongue instead of my fingers.

  With that visual in mind, my orgasm slices through me, and I’m crying out. I can’t say his name, can’t utter my betrayal out loud, but I moan loudly, hoping it’s enough.

  “Fuck,” he husks, his voice deeper, barely a whisper. “Fuck, Sparkle. I don’t have any words.” He slides me down, and I’m forced to let go of him. He readjusts me, making it so he’s sitting up and I’m on his lap.

  He takes my mouth like he just did moments ago when he took my cunt. I taste myself, a tangy saltiness that has me wanting more of him.

  More of this.

  More of us.

  He reaches behind him, pulling out a condom from the nightstand.

  Shit. I’m really doing this.

  “I’m scared, too,” he whispers in my ear, making me relax. He knows. He actually feels what I’m feeling. “I love you, Sparkle. I will even when I know it’s not me.”

  “T-Toby,” I mumble, my chin wobbling.

  “Shh, baby. I got you,” he encourages, kissing my doubt away.

  Toby lifts me, laying me beneath him. His hands trace up my thighs, reaching my hips. He hooks his thumbs under the material, taking my panties, pulling them down slowly. All the while, his gaze never leaves mine.

  There’s so much certainty and awe in his eyes. There’s understanding and kindness. There’s zero judgement and zero g
uilt. It’s all Toby, only Toby, and I’m ready.

  He smooths his palms up and down my thighs, his smile making me feel like a teen all over again.

  “You okay, Sparkle?”

  I nod, observing as he opens the condom package. When he reaches down to sheath it on himself, I finally see his cock. My surprise makes him chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s big, but I’m not scared. I’m finally ready. He rolls the condom on slowly, and I watch as it rolls over each throbbing vein in equal succession. My breathing accelerates again, my chest rising and falling with too many emotions to list.

  He leans forward, his eyes boring into mine, showing me he sees my anxiety, that he cares and this isn’t just fucking. This is love in its rawest form.

  His tip touches my entrance, and I’m shaking again. He teases me, leaving kisses across my shoulders but not pushing in. He’s allowing me to adjust, allowing me to say no, to go back to normal Toby and Lo.

  “I won’t hurt you, Sparkle. I’ll never hurt you,” he promises.

  Reaching forward, I drag my dress straps down, the material not super stretchy, but enough to bare my breasts to him. He pops a nipple into his mouth, swirling over it seductively. I mewl, my body relaxing to his touches.

  When his hips start to push forward, his pool house door slams open. My mind fogs a little, the adrenaline and apprehension making me feel confused.

  Toby jumps off me as he scrambles to pull up his shorts. He eyes me, and I hurry to cover up.

  “What the fuck, Toby?” Jase roars as I try to muddle through what just happened, about what Tobe and I had been about to...

  Fuck.

  “How could you?” His voice only rises, his face redder than I’ve ever seen. His jaw ticks. The vein in his forehead is ever so present.

  I stand and grab by wedding ring, not knowing if I should try and break up this impending fight or run.

  But I’m not a runner, and he’s no better than I am.

  “Stop!” I shout, making my way to them. Jase has Toby pinned by his arm against the wall. “I said stop it, Jason!”

  He doesn’t turn to me, but I know he hears me because he shakes his head angrily. His fists whiten from the force. His veins in his arms are flexed from barely holding back, and his shoulders are so tight that the tiniest of movements could make them snap.

  “I can’t look at you right now.” Jase shakes from head to toe.

  I love the jealousy and anger. I thrive on it. The intoxicating thrill of one-upping him has me holding back a smirk. It’s barely hidden by my contempt.

  “The fact that I saw him between your legs, and I just fucking can’t, Loren!” His eyes are closed, but I step closer, forcing his arm away from Toby’s chest. He flinches at my touch, like I scorched him, like I’ve hurt him.

  Welcome to the fucking club, buddy.

  “You did this to us, Jason. I just decided it was your turn to hurt,” I express before smiling triumphantly and walking toward the door. “I’ll call you later, Toby. Thank you... for that,” I add with a wink and hear Jase growl and punch the wall in result.

  I didn’t get to say all I wanted to say, but I sure as hell got to bite back at the fucker for hurting me. Maybe this will ruin all of us, but the fucks I had to give have all but dissolved with bitterness.

  It’s in your court now.

  chapter thirty

  Jase

  “She’s cheating on you, Jason,” Nora claims, pleading with me. “I saw them together. You should leave her.” I search her face for lies, for contempt, for anything other than care, but she seems serious, like she knows something I don’t.

  Lo wouldn’t cheat on me.

  She wouldn’t.

  Like you? The voice in my head reminds me.

  “Loren wouldn’t cheat,” I say, my voice harsh and bitter. “I trust her.”

  “You shouldn’t. You’ve seen her with him. They’re too close for friends. Plus, I saw them together, Jase. They were kissing.”

  “Enough!” I bark, my hands shaking with the resentment I feel toward my wife and brother. They’ve always been close, and since Anise died, he’s always around. She always asks for him or for Ellie but never me. “They were probably just close, Nora. They won’t ever betray me like that.”

  “You’re so fucking naïve, Jase. You can’t even see what’s right in front of you. When she goes to him, you come to me. Isn’t that fucked? The fact that you talk to me instead of her and she talks to him instead of you?”

  “She’s just lost. She’ll come back to me. She promised.”

  And what then? the voice nags. What is left to come back to? You broke her.

  Clenching my fists and grinding my molars until pain slices through me, I beg the voice to leave, to stop feeding me doubt. I’m the cheater. I’m the one who stepped out. Not her. I’m the one who called it quits while she’s raising our kids, oblivious to my infidelity.

  “She also promised she wouldn’t shut down again, yet, here she is, over a year later, doing exactly that. She’s not good for you or the kids. You’ve got to let her go,” Nora adds, giving me a pointed look.

  I can’t let her go. I can’t give into temptation even if I already have. I promised to stay. She signed the papers. She gave into my demands, yet I can’t leave. She’s the only one who’s ever been fully mine. The only one I’ve ever truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even with Nora in my life, it’ll always be Peaches. Always Peaches.

  “What do you know, Nora?! You wouldn’t understand. You lost Francis by fucking up and fighting with him. How would you know what marriage is like? What it’s like to struggle and watch the woman you love disappear into a shell? To see the woman you’ve built a life with just unable to exist? You wouldn’t because Francis is gone!”

  “Wow, that’s low even for you,” she gripes. “He died because he was drunk. If anything, it was your fault. You were the one who let him drive home after that.”

  “He wanted to stay!” I return angrily.

  He hadn’t been drunk when I left, not that he couldn’t have had a few after I was gone, but he had been sober. How was I supposed to know?

  “Well, now he’s dead, and you’re all I have left. Stop doing this to yourself, especially for her,” she pleads, her eyes filled with hurt.

  “She’s my goddamn wife. She’s everything to me!” I try to get her to see, to see my love for Lo, to see how much she means to me. To see that Lo can’t be replaced, even if I’ve been unfaithful.

  “She’s draining you, and you’re letting her.” She touches my cheek with a feather-soft touch, rubbing her fingers across it in a soothing pattern, but it’s not soothing. It’s not even welcome.

  “I’m going to go. I can’t argue something you won’t understand,” I bite, bitterness filling me with resentment. Not for Nora, not for Lo, but for me—for my mistakes and stupidity.

  “Oh, I understand clearly, Jason. You’re losing a battle you were never meant to win.”

  “And you’re ruining our friendship and making me hate my marriage.” She backs up at that, dropping her hands, her face falling in the next breath.

  “I’m sorry. I-I wasn’t trying to. I just hate seeing you in so much pain,” she grovels, tears running down her face. She falls to the floor in a fit of sobs, holding onto my legs. “I’m j-just hurting, Jase.”

  “I’m sorry,” I cave, going to the floor with her, hugging her.

  She’s in pain, and I can help. She’s in pain, and at least she wants my help.

  “I’ve got to go home. Just try and not to stress about everything. I’ll be okay. I’m always okay.”

  She whimpers, nodding into my chest, and I leave. My wife needs me too, even if she doesn’t want me.

  When I get home, it’s the same as usual—Lo on the couch, kids asleep at her sides, Toby there, too.

  She’s mindless.

  Her eyes bore into the TV, but they don’t really see anything. They’re polished over, like she’s here but a
lso hidden in a place I’ve never been able to reach her. The kids can’t either, but he does. He always does.

  The way Toby holds her, the way I should be holding her, has me breaking. His arm is draped around her middle, her head leaning on his shoulder, all while she sits partially on his lap, cuddling him like she used to cuddle me.

  Seeing that she needs him but doesn’t need me is the worst feeling a husband can experience.

  Was Nora right? Were they cheating the entire time and I’m the dumbass who didn’t notice until now? Was I too absorbed in my affair that I couldn’t see theirs all along?

  Seeing him between my wife’s legs is singlehandedly the worst imagery of my existence. Now, I know. Now, I can understand what she’s been imagining since she found out about my affair.

  The anger.

  The betrayal.

  The loathing.

  The rancor.

  I’ve never felt so turbulent, so violent. Holding back the need to punch my brother’s face took everything I had. Even now, as she walks away, I want to strangle him. I want him to hurt like I’m hurting, to ache like I’m aching, and to suffer like seeing him and her nearly fucking made me suffer.

  But I can’t.

  I can be angry, hurt, upset, and want to fuck her until she comes back into my arms, but I have no room to talk. I fucked her best friend for a year behind her back. I betrayed her first, cheated first, broke her first. It was me. All me. It’s my fault.

  For the longest time, I blamed her for my dalliances, for my leaving her in ways, but in reality, it was me. I used her as a crutch, as an excuse to make myself feel better.

  To absolve myself, she was the excuse.

  To fix our marriage, she has to be the reason.

  “I’m trying so fucking hard not to kill you right now,” I growl, toe to toe with Toby.

  His face is strained. There’s animosity in his stiff posture, contempt in his curled lip, and betrayal in his hazel eyes. He hates me. I can see it. Behind the pain and dripping venom, there’s absolute hatred there.