More

by Rachel De Lune

  “What for?”

  “More.” My answer is as simple as it can be.

  His brow furrows, as if he doesn’t quite follow my answer. “More?”

  “Yes. All of this, all of you. I don’t think I’ve thanked you. It’s… I’m… I—”

  “Shhh, Izzy. It’s my complete pleasure. Believe me.” He gives me his wickedly sexy smile. I think I do.

  Since I started seeing Seb on Friday evenings, we haven’t been out casually for coffee or a drink at the bar. Although I love the time we spend together, I also miss the easy friendship we had built. I wanted the friendship as much as the intensity we shared when we were together as lovers. I feel consumed by Seb, but in a very good way. I hope that Seb feels something towards me, too. Even if he doesn’t say it, he often alludes to strong feelings for me. Or am I just seeing things again?

  We haven’t discussed the details of meeting at his hotel, just that we will. And surprisingly, I haven’t heard from him since I left on Friday night, apart from the customary text to check I was home safely and feeling okay.

  My week is going to be fairly quiet with sessions, but I do need to ensure I’m prepared for Friday. The presentation I am delivering is new content on social media benefiting SEO and managing return on investment. I’ve incorporated some basic SEO slides from a colleague.

  Despite my attempts to keep focused on work, I want to see whether Seb and I still have that spark outside of the bedroom. I miss him as a friend almost as much as I miss his touch. A part of me is scared I will lose both.

  I pull out my phone and text Seb.

  How would you like to brighten my Tuesday and meet me for coffee at lunchtime? Izzy x

  I set it back on my desk, sit back in my chair and stare at it. God, what is happening to me? I’m nervous and panicky about his response. Will he respond? Or does Seb only want to see me for sex? No, Seb is kind and considerate, and above all else, he is my friend.

  But, as they do so often, my insecurities win. I convince myself that it’s just part of Seb’s nature, to explore domination and submission. He said that he saw something in me and wanted to see if he could help me. When he becomes bored, he’ll simply stop. He’ll be gone from my life as easily as he came into it and I’ll be left with only the knowledge of what could be.

  I stare at the clock on my computer and check to see whether it’s still functioning. How long does it take to answer a text? He always answers my texts. I see the phone light up and buzz, and I nearly jump out of my chair to reach it.

  I could meet you briefly. I have a meeting at 2:30. The usual place at 1. S

  My heart hammers in my chest at the prospect of meeting him, but the tone of his text has made me nervous. It sounds brisk. I shake my head and decide that I’m reading too much into everything and I need to trust Seb. I put my phone away after a quick confirmation and busy myself with preparation for work.

  Seb waits for me with two lattes in front of him on a small table. I pause. He turns around and gives me his sexy smile and I find my feet again. Seeing him immediately stirs feelings deep in my stomach, and I subtly clench my thighs as I sit down. I thought I was doing well with my homework this week, but realise that meeting Seb might spark my arousal.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hi, it was nice to hear from you. I was meaning to contact you about the plans for Thursday night.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, that’s sort of why I thought we could meet.”

  “Sort of? Come on, Izzy. That was a rubbish lie.”

  Oh, shit. He gives me a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t touch his eyes.

  “Sorry.” I look down and fiddle with my hands in my lap. “Can we sort the plans first, though?” I steer the conversation in a safe direction and try to relax. I’m feeling self-conscious. I fidget in my chair and try to focus on talking with him, but the ache between my legs distracts me.

  Seb hands me a piece of paper and I reach to take it. As I do, he glides his other hand to the pulse point on my wrist. My breathing hitches with that one touch.

  “These are the instructions for Thursday. It tells you where I’m staying, what train to get, and I’ve given you a few options for your return journey.”

  “Thank you.” I smile at him and wait, not really sure of what else to say.

  “What else did you want to talk about, Izzy?” He cocks his head to the side with his sexy smile still on his face. His stubble is maybe a little longer than usual and his eyes are a darker blue. He is always observant and seems to be able to read everything I’m thinking, while I struggle to read anything from him. I take a breath and lean forward to pick up my coffee. I hold it in front of me as a makeshift shield.

  Why am I so nervous? Come on, Izzy. He’s seen you naked.

  “I just wanted to check that things between us were okay. I mean, we haven’t seen a lot of each other… I mean, we haven’t spent… Um… we haven’t gone out socially together for a little while.” I give my tongue a rest.

  “You mean since ‘more’?”

  “Well, yes.” I don’t say anything else, waiting to see whether he’ll take the lead.

  “And you were worried because?”

  “I’m not worried. I wanted to check that we could still be friends, you know, do this.” I gesture to the coffee in my hand and take a sip. He doesn’t answer straightaway, and I immediately feel a wave of dread replace my lust.

  “Do you still want this, Izzy? Being friends outside of what I’m showing you? Because that may not be as easy as it seems.”

  I don’t know how to respond for a moment. It seems for once my internal paranoia was warranted.

  “Oh, of course. Okay.” I blush and realise that perhaps this was all too good to be true.

  “I offered to show you, Izzy, because you needed someone who would take this path with you safely. To support and guide you. I still want to do that. I will show you what you clearly want and need, but please think about everything else. You are married, and if I’m honest, I thought when you discovered how submitting to a man turned you on, it would help your marriage. I thought you would take the experiences you and I have had home, to Phil, and pursue a new relationship with your husband.”

  I’m floored. I don’t say anything, but stare at his face. His beautiful face. Am I really asking more of him still? To not only meet my sexual fantasies, but keep the easy companionship we had as well? I think back, and there was always an underlying current between us. A hidden temptation and desire that provided the energy between us. That is definitely still there. Would I be able to cope with the very real physical temptation of Seb if we were to return to friends? I don’t say anything.

  “Izzy, I will have coffee with you, have drinks with you and be a friend to you. But think about what that means, okay? Think about why you told me about your desires, your marriage, what Phil did to you.” Taking a sip of his coffee breaks the damning words from his lips.

  “Don’t you want to be friends?” My desperation rings clear in my ears, even through the quiver in my voice.

  “Izzy, this is about you. I’ve shown you the rules I play by and you’ve followed. But how far that goes is your choice. This relationship between us started in order to give you the experience of BDSM—the submission you’ve craved. You’re married and that doesn’t look to be changing. Don’t do something that you can’t undo.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve already let you fuck me.”

  Cold, blue spheres lock on to me and hold my stare. Usually his eyes are sexy and dangerous. Or frustratingly clear. These eyes are laced with a disapproval I don’t want to see again. I shrink under his gaze, and the slow shake of his head confirms that he is disappointed in me.

  “Think about what I said, Izzy, and I’ll see you Thursday. Unless you change your mind.” With that, he stands and walks away, leaving me alone and confused.

  I sit and mull over his words, trying to understand what he was saying to me, without actually telling me. He
wants me to come to my own conclusion. But about what? My eyes burn as tears threaten, the emotions bubbling away. I don’t understand what Seb’s problem is with being friends. That’s what we were before. Silent tears escape my eyes and stream down my face. Why are you pushing me away, Seb? No. He wouldn’t do that. Not after everything. He said he would be there for me.

  I dash the teary streaks from my face and leave the bar. I set out to ensure I could keep Seb’s friendship and I’m pretty sure I’ve ruined it. The conversation plays in my mind, but I keep coming back to his question about my marriage. Has being with Seb helped my marriage? The honest answer is no. In reality, being with Seb has shown me everything that is missing from it. And that goes much further than the simple lack of sex. I want a connection—a companion—and I don’t have it with Phil. Shit! As I stop in the middle of the pavement, realisation dawns.

  I pull out my phone and search the contacts for Seb’s number and press call. It rings but goes to voicemail. At the sound of the beep, I squeeze my eyes shut and open my mouth.

  “I’m so sorry, Seb. Truly, I am. I asked you for a relationship. Not just sex, not just guiding me into what could have been a scary world of submission and dominance. I understand wanting friendship as well blurs the lines that we’ve already crossed, even further. I’ve shattered my marriage vows.” I pause, not wanting to speak with Seb’s voicemail. “I still want to see you on Thursday. I still want… you. Thank you.”

  I end the call in a rush and stuff my phone back into my bag. Seb is, in a strange way, trying to protect me. He’s revealing the real me, the one who is hidden behind years of disappointment, neglect, and uncertainty. Buried under a marriage I don’t want to be in any longer. He is helping to give me the perspective to make my decision—the one I should have made a long time ago—to leave Phil.

  My heart swells as I try to take it all in. I’m on dangerous ground, in over my head. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. It doesn’t matter which cliché I use. It all boils down to the same. I want Sebastian—not Phil. So much for keeping emotions at bay!

  Jess looks at me impatiently. “Please spit it out, Izzy. I know when you want to tell me something. Is it Phil?”

  I hug a pillow to my chest and glance at Jess curled on the opposite end of my sofa. “Yes and no. Okay, well…” I take a deep breath and mentally cross my fingers. “You know the guy I met at the bar, well, I’m afraid I have feelings for him.” I pause. “I didn’t plan this, not to actually have proper feelings anyway. I wanted to feel again. I wanted an emotional connection with a man. I wanted to be adored and cared for.” Jess is smiling at me as if I’ve just told her some big happy news. “Why are you smiling at me?”

  “Because you deserve to be happy and you finally sound like you’ve realised that means moving on from Phil. So, you’re sleeping with this guy?”

  “Yes. Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I know how you feel about cheating, but…” I let the admission hang in the air, hoping that Jess can somehow understand or at least try to see where I am in all of this. “He’s helping me to… um, he’s helping me explore… you know, sexually.”

  Jess raises her eyebrows. “What? You mean like that 50 Shades book?”

  I can feel my cheeks turn scarlet. “Um… yeah… kinda like that. But I’m scared now it’s become something more than simply physical. I have feelings for him, beyond being a friend or caring about him. I don’t know what to do for the best. I’m scared.” My head drops to my hands in defeat. Jess scoots closer to me on the sofa and wraps me up in a motherly hug.

  “I don’t know what to say, Izzy. I think you need to work out who you want in your life. You don’t seem to accept the idea of divorcing Phil, yet you’re having an affair. What does that tell you?”

  “It’s not an affair. It’s just…” God, I don’t even know how to finish that. It is an affair. My feelings are involved now.

  “It’s what, Iz? You know, I’ve seen you almost ‘check out’ on life over the last year. You are a shell of who you were, and it’s because of Phil. But that doesn’t mean I agree with you on this. You are having an affair and you need to admit that. An affair won’t magically fix your marriage, and you know what, I hope it doesn’t. You need to do what’s right for you, and I doubt that includes remaining with Phil.”

  I’m having an affair. An affair. The word rings about my head and I feel the full weight of its meaning right through to my heart.

  “Look, Iz. I know you’re hurting. I can see it and I’m here for you, but sort your marriage out first and then see where your relationship with this other guy goes, okay?”

  I’m glad that Jess can’t see my face at the moment. The floodgates have opened. She scoots along the sofa to me and holds me as I weep. I’m ever grateful for her, my rock. After a long time, Jess releases me and gathers up her things. “Think about what I’ve said, Izzy. You’re hurting and I want to help, but I don’t want you to get hurt more than you already have.” Jess’s words sound like a warning. She’s only doing this for my own good, but after everything else, I need to feel some support. Her tough love approach is too tough at the moment.

  She leaves, and I feel worse for telling her. I needed her to understand. I can’t leave things between us unresolved like this.

  I’m sorry I sprang all of this on you but I feel lost. Seb seems to be the only one who makes sense at the moment. Please try to see it from my point of view. Izzy

  OK, Izzy, but regardless you need to sort this mess out. I’m sure Seb’s not happy with playing around. If he’s the kind of guy you say he is, he deserves better and so do you.

  I know. I just don’t know how to start things with Phil. Izzy

  You need to tell him, Izzy. From what you’ve said, I think the sex stuff was just the final straw.

  I’m scared. Izzy

  I know, hun. Be brave. I’m right here.

  A few hours later, I’m in a familiar position, curled up in bed, running everything from the past few days through my head and waiting for Phil to come home. My mind is a jumble of conflicting emotions, guilt and excitement, sorrow and pleasure. Finally, I slip into a restless sleep, alone, fighting with my emotions and my heartache.

  I wake with the ringing of my alarm. I reach across to silence the blaring noise and slowly draw myself out of the covers. I’m alone in bed. Phil didn’t come home. We really do need to try to sort things out for once and all. A text message is waiting for me, sent sometime in the middle of the night.

  Sorry, Iz, crashing at Jackson’s. See you tomorrow night.

  I try to call his phone but I’m sent straight to voicemail, so I look for Jackson’s number instead.

  “Hello.” A groggy male voice answers and I’m not sure I even recognise it as Jackson.

  “Hi, Jackson. Sorry it’s early. Can you grab Phil for me? I can’t get him on his phone.” There is a pause for a few moments and as I’m about to check he hasn’t fallen asleep on me, he pipes up.

  “Phil? Why… oh… yeah, hey, Izzy. I think he left already. Sorry.”

  “Okay, um, thanks. If you see him, will you tell him I’m looking for him?”

  I take a deep breath and hang up. Jackson lied. How stupid can I be? I know that Phil’s having an affair, and has been for far longer than I have. A daunting feeling surfaces within me every time I think about confronting Phil. It’s taken root in my stomach and makes me restless and anxious. My concentration is shot.

  I need to confront Phil. It’s what I should have done a long time ago.

  Phil is home when I return from work. I’m not going into the office tomorrow, so I have an extra bag full of resources needed for the training session on Friday.

  “Hey, you.” Phil greets me in the hall, all pleasantness and smiles. That isn’t going to work.

  “Hey, I think we need to talk, okay?” He looks a little anxious, and suddenly I’m scared. He pulls me into the front room almost before I can dump my bags down, and sits me on the sofa.

  “Look, I
z, I know I’ve been a little distant recently. I think maybe all this stuff has been building up and I’ve not been dealing with it well. I’m sorry.”

  I don’t reply straightaway, confused as to why Phil is acting like this. I sit there, looking at my hands and biting my lip.

  “Say something, Iz. I’m sorry for a lot of stuff, and we’ve got a lot to sort out between us, but I love you.”

  “You love me?” I am shocked at how surprised my voice sounds.

  “Of course I love you. I’m your husband.” The temper he’s holding in rings loud and clear in his response. Perhaps I’ve dented his ego.

  “Where were you last night?” I murmur and hold my breath. This has been coming for a while and I need to brave it now, before I lose my nerve. I want us to be honest with each other for once.

  “I was with Jackson. I crashed last minute, okay? I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve not been good dealing with you recently. You know, since…” We both know he’s referring to the night I asked him to tie me up.

  “You can say it, Phil. I won’t bite.” My voice betrays my words as I snap them out, immediately defensive at where I can see this leading.

  “Iz, you’re the one who’s changed everything with the whole kink thing—”

  I cut him off before he can continue.

  “No, Phil. You were missing from this relationship long before I even suggested the sex. Were you even at Jackson’s last night?” The thought of him trying to put the blame on me about where we are in our relationship suddenly brings my anger to the forefront. No. We are in this together.

  “Of course I was! Why would you question that?” His overreaction screams of a guilty conscience. “You’re the one who wanted me to hit you, Izzy. Not me. Things were fine before.”