Coming Around Again

by Billy London

  “Are you better now? Happier?”

  The instant answer was no. Resoundingly no. Still. People kept telling her she’d get over it. It’d be easier one day. “Yes. Nothing worse than feeling guilt for another person.”

  The lie, seemingly so small, grew with any Niels-related question. Do you get on? Famously these days. All those feelings gone? Not even a flicker. Do you want to get back together? Never. You have exes for a reason. It’s like trawling through a scrap yard for your own rubbish. Pointless.

  Lies. She couldn’t stop herself. Now she saw it. Sitting on Niels’ lap and shaving him on Christmas morning had been more erotic than every single time she’d gone to bed with Royce combined. And now. Now the truth had to be told.

  “I don’t understand.” Royce made her feel as if she’d killed Bambi’s mother right in front of him. “Is it because of what happened at New Year?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With the twins not… Well, not reacting well to me. That’s because they have no background. They don’t know who I am for you to be upset.”

  A logical leap, but a leap, nonetheless. “It’s not the twins. It’s me. I ran headlong into this thinking I was all right, completely forgetting the fact that I’d been married for ten years.”

  “It’s coming up to two years since your divorce.”

  Since divorce proceedings started, but who wants to split hairs? “I know. And I’m only really now dealing with it.”

  Royce looked away, his face taut with disappointment and—fair enough—anger. “You told me you were over him.”

  “I thought I was,” she admitted. Really, she should have let him come to the house, rather than embarrassing him in public.

  “This is bullshit, Stella. We’ve only just established everything.”

  “Better now before it goes any further.”

  “You mean before you break my heart? Mission failed.” Even in his sneer, he sounded tearful. Oh God. This was all Niels’ fault. Him and his shave me rubbish.

  Stella leaned over the table and caught Royce’s fist in both hands. “What can I do? How can I make this better?”

  “Change your mind,” he said desperately. “Let’s keep going. It’ll go away. Whatever you feel about him, eventually it’ll go away.”

  “And you’re willing to wait that long? I can’t do that to you, Royce. You think I’m hurting you now, it’ll be a million times worse even a few months down the line. Don’t make me into that woman.”

  Royce sighed heavily and got to his feet. “I’m afraid you already are. Don’t worry about the drinks. I’ve already settled up.” He gazed at her for a moment. “Bye, Stella.”

  Sitting conspicuously on her own only increased Stella’s disturbance and vexed her inner turmoil. She stewed. Steamed. Fried in her own anger and guilt and shame. Anger with herself for letting inappropriate feelings destroy something that had been sweet and lovely. Feelings that really needed to die a death to kill Niels a thousand times over. She took to reading the divorce petition until it was burned in her brain, every single last word.

  Royce, seemingly without any self-respect, tried to change her mind. With flowers. With calls. Emails. Offers of trips abroad, just the two of them. All Stella could do was to remind him how new their relationship had been. And to pump so much desperate effort into something so fragile would cause death, if it had not already died. Overwatering a seedling.

  Niels obligingly stayed away. Perhaps her shortness carried well over text messages. Ignoring him altogether never worked out well for her and it was with relief that she collected the boys from school. She allowed them to take her away from her relationship problems by playing a rousing game of War, played with plastic guns and balls, running around the house and causing a little bit of damage. After dinner, homework to allow them to have the remainder of the weekend free, and a film, she packed them off to bed, with the promise of something exciting to do the next day.

  As soon as she sat down, she saw a text from Niels and the rage flew out of control. All he’d said was Boys okay?

  No thanks to you.

  What is that supposed to mean?

  She ignored it. Her phone rang. She threw it across the living room. Luckily it bounced off the armchair to fall harmlessly onto the pile carpet where it bounced, vibrating with an incoming phone call.

  Stella poured herself a fortifying glass of brandy. Better. Much better. When the doorbell rang, she knew her delightfully irritating ex-husband would be on the other side of the door. She opened it, her mouth twisted in disapproval. Hair wet from rain and waving a bottle of Malbec, Niels sent her a persuasive smile. “Are you going to let the father of your children drown out here?”

  “Maybe,” she said with a shrug.

  “Let me in.” His voice soft with concern, led Stella to do what she always did around him. Obey. Standing to one side, she closed the door behind him as he shook droplets of rain from his coat and scarf. He handed over the wine and said, “Do you mind opening that? Warm me up better than a tea.”

  With a heavy, put-upon sigh, Stella padded to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses and an opener. Niels followed her and she pointed an arm to her office. “In there, please. Don’t get too comfortable, you won’t be staying long.”

  Eyebrows raised, Niels did as she bid, sitting down in her office, with his legs elegantly crossed and a bemused expression on his face.

  “Now my love,” he murmured, “what is it you think I’ve done?”

  She laughed, bitterness making the sound abrasive to the ears. “What haven’t you done? What aren’t you continuing to do? That’s about right. Ruining my life!”

  She roughly poured out two small measures of wine and picked hers up immediately. Niels watched her, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “Okay,” he said slowly, as she drained her glass. “Let’s narrow it down to the last week of my ruining your life. What’s happened?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think,” he answered, after taking a sip of wine, “that you want to blame me for whatever hasn’t worked out with whatever colourless man you continue to try to replace me with. You know full well it won’t work. You only hope. You want me to be sorry that you’re not moving on. That you can’t find someone else better than me.” He put down the glass and towered over her. “Not. Sorry. At. All.”

  “You want me to be alone, don’t you?” she fumed, not backing down from him for a minute. How dare he! “That suits you. While you go out and fuck whoever you want to, I’m on my own.”

  “Did I miss something? Did I tell you to end your relationship?”

  “You may as well have, you selfish twat! You keep making me feel guilty for being with anyone else, when this situation is all down to you! If you hadn’t…”

  “Hadn’t what?”

  She fumbled for her argument, and not wanting him to get the wrong end of the stick. Much like she wrestled with at the moment.

  He raised his eyebrows at her, in prompt. “Come on, Stella. Tell me what I didn’t do?”

  Later, she would excuse it as an alcoholic daze. “If you hadn’t practically dry-humped me at Christmas, I’d have been fine.”

  His eyes gleamed and Stella bit her lip, cursing her stupidity. Of course that was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Dry-humped? I barely touched you. This, however…”

  Niels caught her about the neck and yanked her into his kiss.

  Oh God, yes, she thought. This was where she belonged. This is what she had missed so badly. At last her whole body felt right; pressed tightly to her ex-husband’s hard torso, cradled between his thighs. They felt like stone under her touch. She gripped the buckle of his belt to grind her pelvis into his, seeking something that required a lot less clothing.

  All that fighting, screaming, shouting, hating… For nothing! Such a waste of energy… Energy which could have been better spent like this…

  Niels’ broad palm skimmed over her stomach to delve inside her leggings and c
upped her mound. She nearly jerked out of his arms, her cry of surprise muffled by his lips. He in turn gave a groan as his fingers slipped between the soaked lips of her sex. Dragging his hand back and forth, he kissed her harder, sucking at her tongue and then nibbling on her bottom lip. Two fingers pushed inside her and Stella’s lower body imploded with overwhelming lust. He hadn’t touched her like this in so long. His hand rocked roughly against her, his fingers dragging over her sensitised flesh. His other hand firmly gripped one butt cheek to keep her in place. Stella’s hands roamed from his shoulders, along his arms to grip the wrist of the hand lodged between her thighs. If he carried on, she’d not last much longer…

  With a grunt of impatience, he turned her around and bent her over the desk, yanking down her leggings to expose her. A moment passed as he smoothed his palms over her arse, a rumbling groan vibrating his touch. Before she could draw breath to appreciate the touch, she heard the snap of his belt unbuckling. Her body electrified in suspension as he rubbed over her drenched pussy with the tip of his cock.

  Come on... she thought, wriggling her hips to entice him. Don’t make me wait any more!

  His hands tunnelled under her jersey top and at the same time, his cock fitted to her opening, he shoved her bra to her collar and pressed into her until she was full. The groan that emerged from her throat couldn’t be considered as human. Raw, unadulterated pleasure at the sensations raging through her. With slow deep strokes, he slid against her, his palms rolling her nipples into points. His belt buckle stabbed into her thigh each time he moved and her bra managed to cut into her throat. She didn’t care. It only made her move against him with a selfish determination to find her release.

  She reached behind her to grab Niels’ hip, to bring him closer to her, force him to move harder. The heat of his breath against the back of her neck sent shivers through her. He released one breast to trail his heavily scented fingers over her lips. She tasted the salt of his skin and the smooth sweetness of her own cream on his digits. Her mouth watered for more, trailing her tongue around his fingers for more, imagining it was his cock in her mouth. He bit down on her shoulder as he pounded into her faster, his movements sending hot liquid over her inner thighs.

  He drew his hand from her mouth and rested his damp fingers on her clit, squeezing gently on her. The breath stalled in her chest, a wildfire breaking over her lungs instead. Heat roamed over her belly as she pushed back with her buttocks to meet the delicious and maddening motion within her. A squeak escaped her, when they’d promised not to be loud. She couldn’t help herself. That one noise sent a message to her throat to be free. Not to hold back. She cried out as her pussy began to clamp erratically over his thick length.

  “Stella,” he breathed in warning. Pin pricks of pleasure dotted across her body and she caught the remaining hand on her breast under her own hand. Her back arched as the orgasm ripped through her, stealing her voice for a long, still moment.

  He moved in quickly and turned her head toward him in irresistible motion. He covered her mouth with his, making her taste his stuttered groan as he flooded her hotly with his own desire. With uneven thrusts, he mashed his hips into her bottom until he was spent. Waves of sensation plucked at her body in random patches. And then cold raked her into sense. Why had she let her ex-husband fuck her? Stupid.

  And he hadn’t used a condom. Selfish bastard. And she was a silly bitch for not thinking of the consequences… What was he doing?

  Niels pulled away from her and stood her straight. With butterfly light kisses, he smoothed away the line of the wood that pressed into her flesh. After a moment, he laid his head on her belly and inhaled a deep breath. “I’ve missed that scent.”

  “What do you mean? You depraved man…”

  “How you smell with me on you.”

  Stella glanced down and saw his cock bouncing upward in renewed vigour.

  “This was a bad idea, I think…”

  He stood up and peeled the top from her body, then her bra. “You and I do too much thinking. I’m not finished with you. And you’re not finished with me. So take the rest of your clothes off. Now.”

  Arguing seemed futile. Especially after what just happened. She peeled off the leggings and watched Niels yank his shirt from his body and kick off his boots and jeans. He stood in his boxers and commanded gently; “Take them for me.”

  Slowly, she smoothed the silk down to his ankles, and he stepped free from the garment. It left her face to face with her favourite part of Niels’ body, fragrant with their recent exertions. She leaned forward and traced her tongue over the head. He tasted of her, him, and everything she knew. Just as she leaned forward for more, he caught her in his arms.

  “Bed. No more marks on your body. Except ones I make.”

  The next two hours, he reintroduced himself to her; naked and underneath him, with her hands above her head. His kisses, his touch, the way his thighs kept her own apart to maximise her pleasures was nothing less than worshipful and reminiscent of his love before their divorce. It brought her to tears. Tears he kissed away, only to lower his head to the small strip of hair above her clit and kiss her there. It took seconds for those tears of months and weeks wasted, to evaporate under the skill of his tongue, followed by the power of his hips.

  She lost count of her orgasms. After four or five, she pushed him to his side of the bed and rolled over to reach for an exhausted sleep. Consequences were for later. Not while her body still hummed and ahhhed in pleasure that only Niels had ever been able to elicit.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He’s still here, Stella noted, having showered and dressed, all without him moving a muscle. As if the last two years hadn’t happened. A normal Saturday.

  Oh God, it was Saturday.

  “Niels!” Stella hissed. “Niels!”

  He grunted and buried his head deeper into her brand new memory foam pillows. She wrenched back the duvet and slapped him resoundingly on his bare buttocks.

  He leaned up on his elbows and stared at her with one eyebrow raised. “Good morning to you.”

  “The boys will be up.”

  “Why, what time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “In the morning? My God, woman. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I didn’t sleep,” she confessed, then felt irritated with him for being so obtuse. “They can’t see you here.”

  He turned onto his side, naked and unabashed. “How would you suggest I leave without our children knowing? Unless you built some secret slide into this room?”

  She would kill him. And no one would really blame her. She was sleep-deprived. All that exertion with Niels and she hadn’t slept a wink. Not even for five minutes post-orgasm. Just her and her four walls and her conscience, telling her and her pussy that they were the weakness to her being. Nothing like the truth to keep one awake. A clear conscience fears not the pillow, she thought wryly. “Just put your clothes on and…”

  Too late. Sleepy movement of shuffling came from the corridor. They were awake. “Right, stay here…”

  “Don’t I even have the luxury of a shower?”

  “You had one four hours ago.”

  “That wasn’t really anything to do with people clean…”

  Huffing, Stella stalked out of the bedroom and shouted, “If you two clean your teeth quickly, I’ll make you pancakes for breakfast.”

  Will immediately poked his head around his and Danny’s bedroom door. “Did you say pancakes?”

  “Teeth first.”

  They rushed to the bathroom, edging each other out of the way and Stella returned to the bedroom. Niels stood, naked and proud, searching in her linen cupboard for a towel.

  “Aren’t you dressed?” she practically howled at him. “Get out!”

  He eyed her. “Why are you giving yourself an ulcer? I am going to have a shower, and then I will have breakfast with my sons.”

  “No. You’re going to sod off and we will pretend you were never here.”

&nb
sp; He thought for a moment. “No. I don’t like that plan. I’ll be fifteen minutes.” With that, he disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door in her face.

  “What is happening in my life?” she asked herself blankly. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Stella took several deep breaths and did what she did best; managed the situation.

  She grabbed her phone, his keys, and his phone and went downstairs. It eliminated two possible excuses for him hanging around like a bad smell.

  The twins were downstairs in pyjamas waiting with squeaky-clean teeth for their promised pancakes. She made them work for it, directing them to the pantry for necessaries. She made banana blueberry and white chocolate fluffy thick pancakes for them. Danny poured acres of syrup on his pile and looked at his mother for her to tell him to mop it up. She simply sighed.

  Darling, I’ve got bigger fish to fry…

  “Is Dad here?” Will asked, through a mouthful of food.

  “Why?”

  “I thought I heard his voice.”

  Just as Stella opened her mouth to deny the allegation, Niels strolled into the kitchen.

  “You took my keys,” he directed at Stella, skimming past her to kiss each boy’s curl-topped head. “Morning.”

  The boys looked at their father, then mother, and blurted. “What’s going on?”

  Stella sent Niels a look of heated disgust. See what you’ve done?

  “Your mother mentioned pancakes.”

  “And he’s going to take you swimming.”

  All three males glanced outside at the thundering rain. “Muma, it’s not really swimming weather…”

  “Can’t we stay?”

  She raised her face to the ceiling. “All of you need to be out of this house in the next half hour. I am not joking.”

  The pancakes were shovelled with inhuman speed before the boys rushed upstairs to get cleaned and dressed.

  Niels held her gaze, biting into a chunk of pancake, chewing with defiance. “We’re going to talk about what happened last night.”