by Nora Heat
He sprang up, looking from the redness on his fingertips to me. “Chloe… oh shit.” He blinked in my direction, shocked. “Chloe—why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered. His speech was still a slurred mess. I figured it best not to get into it. It didn’t matter. It was done. There was no taking it back—or dare I say giving it back.
“I—I should go, Mr. Black.”
I had a feeling he didn’t quite understand what’d just happened—the true depth of this situation. It would take him a few hours of recouping and getting sober to realize the act of sin we’d just committed. “Wait—Chloe… hold on. Did I just… did I just take—” He was unable to get it out, still stunned. Still drunk. Still at a loss for words and on the verge of passing out.
I opened the door. “I think this will be the last time I help you when you pass out, Mr. Black.”
“Chloe?” he was still confused, struggling to come to a stand.
“Please be careful, Theo. Have a good night.” I shut the door and hurried home, feeling like the entire neighborhood had heard me—or at least watched me through x-ray goggles or some shit. It didn’t help that Ms. Rhodes’s stupid dog barked, bringing attention to the night. I quietly entered my house, tiptoed upstairs to my bedroom, took a quick shower, and then got into bed.
My head fell to the left, my cellphone sitting on the nightstand. I picked it up. The only person I was concerned about was Izzy. I wanted to tell her that I’d made a mistake—that we’d made a mistake.
But I knew if I did, she’d never forgive it or look at me the same, no matter what he was going through. She’d blame me for getting close to him in his hour of need. She’d blame me for everything and sympathize with her father. She was the only true friend I had. I never kept secrets from Izzy, but this was one I was taking to the grave.
So I dropped my phone, looked towards the window, and figured it was best not to ever let her know. I tossed and turned all night, remembering just how he took me, claimed me. His mouth on mine, tongue desperate and needy. His masculine body close, bringing me to absolute euphoria. I never thought I’d feel so much my first time.
I sighed because I’d never felt so amazing and so horrible all at once. This would change the way Theo saw me, especially the whole popping of the cherry thing, so I prepared myself for the worst. I prepared to be ignored by him, never to be looked at in the same, innocent way.
I told my emotions not to get involved because, after all, it was just sex. I made him feel just a little better and that was what I wanted. For him to forget his pain for a little while. To feel normal again… at least a tad bit happier, even if there was a cost on my behalf.
But I was only fooling myself.
It was much more than that to me. Just sex. No matter how hard I tried, my feelings for Theo only became stronger. I became attached to the idea of him. Weak and vulnerable for him. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand myself for giving in. Falling victim to my fantasies. My desires. I knew better. We, as adults, knew better.
Theo had no care for right or wrong the moment he lost his wife.
His well-being became polluted with misunderstanding. Rotten from prolonged anguish.
His soul was tainted black, and there was no going back.
“Fuck,” I thought. “Where do we go from here?”
Chapter Three
THEO
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!
Chloe… fucking Chloe! The girl from across the street. The girl that just so happens to be my daughter’s best friend. I watched her grow from this oddly proportionate twelve-year-old to a nineteen-year-old woman with a huge rack she couldn’t conceal, full lips that moved fluidly when she spoke, and a perky round ass I couldn’t help but occasionally stare at whenever she was around.
She had it all, the full package, and to top it all off, she was book smart. She never missed a day of school—never missed a class assignment or forgot her homework. Shit, I wished Isabelle could be like her—about the books and school, I mean.
When I came to, realizing what’d just happened—the blood on my fingertips, the way she ran out of here—I sprang up, but the bedroom door was already shut, light footsteps scampering down the staircase. “Chloe!” I called after her, shooting for the door. Unfortunately, my fucking pants were still around my ankles, cock limp.
Stumbling ahead, I landed face-forward on the carpet, groaning as I created a loud thud. My palms burned the carpet, head swirling.
God damn it.
I was so fucking drunk and so fucking stupid.
Pulling my shit together as much as I could, I walked towards the window and saw her enter her home, a place that felt so far away from me. A place I knew I could never enter without permission.
It took several minutes for her bedroom lights to flicker on, but when they did, I saw her standing still for a moment. Her sheer curtains always showed where she was. She was looking into the mirror, most likely trying to figure out what in the hell just happened.
I swallowed hard as she moved away from the glass. I didn’t see her anymore after that. “So fucking stupid,” I scolded myself, sitting on the edge of the bed. My fingers roughly raked through my sweat-dampened hair, a soreness already migrating to my head.
Why couldn’t I pull it together? Even my own daughter had swept up the pieces of her heart, ready to start fresh. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Janet… she was fucking gone.
My wife was gone.
Dead.
Just like that, within the blink of an eye.
I loved her to death. She was half of me—the reason I kept breathing so long ago. She was part of the reason I still stood on this earth, her and my daughter.
I slowly spiraled that night, considering myself a complete fuck-up. A low-life. A fucking idiot.
Only idiot thirty-eight-year olds fucked nineteen year olds.
Only fuck-ups spiraled so hard and so fast that they saw nothing but a blur and soon ended up passing out in the garage.
Only a low-life would have the audacity to come onto such a sweet, innocent girl, a girl who so clearly wanted to help me get through this pain. This harsh, unbearable pain. Only a fool would end up taking something that sacred away from her, like it didn’t even matter.
But it mattered a lot.
The ache that I had was there, but the crazy thing about it was I lost sight of all losses while she was around. All the pain, all the suffering, and all the hurt just seemed to disappear. While I was buried deep in that tight, mind-blowing pussy, all agony faded. While I held that sweet, young girl close, feeling as she accepted me—took me whole, inch by savory fucking inch—it was gone. All gone.
She had wanted me for years. I could tell when someone was interested, but the thing about her was she didn’t put it on display for everyone to see. Hell, I don’t even know how I figured it out.
Chloe had always had a thing for me, and perhaps my bantering and teasing her as she grew didn’t help get rid of those feelings. If anything, I’d only enhanced them, making her wonder. Making her dream… question.
I was trying to play it cool, but I never had to become someone else while she was around. She accepted us. She understood us. She understood me. She was an amazing person, but just like that, I’d stolen her innocence and filled her with guilt and a spill of my own darkness.
It was a curse, the darkness. It always snuck up on me somehow. Right when I thought I was doing well, it would show up, stealing all the goodness away from me. The blackness would seep through me, ruining my life, turning me into someone I couldn’t stand to look at.
“Fuck!” I barked, rising to my feet. I watched the mirror, how my chest heaved and my body dripped with prohibited sweat. I couldn’t stand what I saw. The dark circles around my eyes from weeks of depression, the way my eerie reflection stared back at me, almost taunting. Laughing. Mocking.
Growling, I rushed forward and punched the mirror on the wall. The glass shattered, pieces falling apart and dropp
ing just like my heart did the night Janet died. Trickles of blood formed from deep cuts on my balled fists. It sucked because I felt nothing, and all I wanted to do was feel—feel something. Feel anything. Feel her… the sweet, beautiful girl.
But Chloe… no.
My head shook as I glared at my scattered reflection, eyes dark and lips thin. I couldn’t touch her again, no matter how hard it would be. This would change everything between us—all we’d established. The bond we’d created over the years. All of it was now gone. Flushed away like it never existed.
Although she may have wanted it, Chloe wasn’t the type to come running to me, begging for more. She was the type to sit around and wait for me to speak up and make a move no matter how awkward she felt about previous actions. And she was too smart to inform Izzy… fuck, Izzy. I hoped she never found out.
She liked me, and I liked how she made me feel like I wasn’t a total fucking loser. As badly as I would have loved to keep going, make her mine by taking her over and over again in every possible way, I just couldn’t do that to her. I should have paid attention. I should’ve taken notice of the pain that ran across her face when I first entered, how she held me tight, nails biting flesh.
She deserved better than having to deal with my brokenness, a man with no self-control—no guidance. A man with a dark past and an even darker heart. That was my mistake, leading her on like that, taking from her what so clearly didn’t justify being mine.
Sad, I couldn’t even hold it in anymore. My cock throbbed hard when I saw it was her head that was between my legs, pulling my boots from my feet in a gesture not even meant to spark lust. He’d been begging me more and more to make a move whenever she made an appearance. The first few nights, I did pretty well, controlling my raging hormones, but that fourth, fateful night took a turn on us.
She wanted me. She knew better, but she wanted me to take her raw on that bed. Help me forget for just a little while. Allow me to remember that there were still options. I felt horrible fucking Chloe on the bed I shared with a wife that hadn’t even been dead for a year, but I couldn’t help myself.
I had to claim it. I had to show her that she wasn’t the only one feeling those urges, wondering about the maybes and the what ifs. She needed to know that I, Theo Black, was far from a saint, and that I constantly had some wicked thoughts about her.
She needed to know… I just wanted to show her… that’s understandable, right? Right?
Fucking moron, my heart whispered.
Fucking champ, my cock chanted.
I don’t even fucking know, my helpless mind murmured.
Shit. I had no clue what to think anymore.
Chapter Four
Chloe
Theo didn’t come home the following night. No loud, angry music. No metal tools clanking around. No empty glasses slamming on the concrete. Just peace and quiet. It felt strange.
I didn’t like it.
I wondered where he was, what he was doing, or worse—if he was still alive.
The question of him being alive was shortly answered when I heard the grumble of his motorcycle. The growl came to a hush, engine shutting off, and I dropped my book, uncrossed my legs, and narrowed my eyes as I walked towards the window.
Looking out, I watched as he stumbled towards the door, pulling out his key and struggling to stick it into the lock. My window was cracked, so I heard him curse beneath his breath as he tried getting it in. I rolled my eyes. At least he hadn’t passed out again. He’d gone elsewhere to get drunk. Maybe he did understand me last night.
Finally, he was inside, and I was relieved. I shut my window and locked it, walking back to my leather recliner in the corner and returning to my book. I was curious about what he was doing, though. Thinking about him distracted me from devouring the romance novel I’d just bought.
I shut the book, blowing out a heavy puff of breath as I climbed out of the recliner and entered my bathroom. I took a long shower, tossed on a large black T-shirt, and climbed into bed, shutting the lamp off.
Moments later, as I lay in darkness, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a text from Izzy.
Izzy: My dad isn’t answering his phone. Is he okay?
I responded quickly.
Me: He’s fine. Just saw him getting home. I’m sure he’ll call.
Izzy: Ok. Good. I was a little worried. Keep an eye on him, will u?
I struggled between a true laugh and a scoff. Yeah, I thought. I’ve been doing that all damn summer.
Me: I will.
Izzy: Thanks, Chlo. Ur the best.
I started to ask her how the college life was going, but my mind changed within the same moment. I wasn’t up for chatting, not after feeling like I’d betrayed her. I couldn’t believe I still hadn’t told her what was going on. She deserved the truth, even if that meant losing her.
I just couldn’t imagine her reaction.
I’d seen Izzy angry, sad, depressed, happy, content, and even confused, but I wasn’t sure what I’d get if word got out that I’d messed around with her dad. Ignoring my guilt, I shut my eyes and curled up beneath the blanket, drifting off to sleep.
The next day, around dusk, I went for a jog at the neighborhood park. Stress had been eating away at me. I was done packing for school and tired of being cooped up in the house. With Izzy gone, I had no one to hang with, so I slid into some jogging pants and a tank, tied my hair up, and was out of the door in seconds, my earphones wedged in my ears.
I started a light jog to the park, waving at a few of the neighbors. All of them were so full of shit. All stuck up and rude, but I was the type that liked to play nice when I had to. The manners Dad taught me, I suppose.
Finally reaching the park, I picked up my pace, hitting the trail and then meeting at the track, running it four times while catchy tunes filled my head. The running distracted my clustered mind for at least fifteen minutes, the air filling my working lungs, the wind nipping my damp skin. I felt great when I finished. I even sang along to some of the music, stretching on the park bench before heading back home.
But that momentary feeling of peace vanished when I saw a shirtless Theo Black running along the same trail. He had on headphones, muscles glistening, and his body art standing out more than ever.
He caught me bending in front of the fountain and slowed down just a little. His gaze matched mine, uncertain, but immediately, he picked up his pace, rushing through a thick line of trees and down a different trail, a rockier one that was harder to traverse.
I shouldn’t have felt so angry, but watching him disappear and act like I didn’t even exist had me heated. And it was a shame because I swore I wouldn’t let the emotion take over me. Lies. All lies.
There was something about the way he looked at me—so many unanswered questions in his eyes. So much confusion, guilt, but most of all, a recognizable lust. Perhaps that was the reason he took off.
I stopped my stretching, took a sip from the fountain, and then turned to jog back home. I didn’t make it to the exit of the park though because there he was again. He appeared on the trail I took, panting heavy, eyes hard on mine. I stopped in my tracks, forehead creased, eyebrows stitched.
“Chloe,” he said after catching his breath. He snatched off his headphones and stood up straight, sweat enhancing his rock-solid body, streaming down his chest. “Can we talk… please?”
I shook my head. “We don’t have to. It’s no biggie.” I ran around him like I wasn’t just deep in my feelings. He caught my elbow before I could flee, twirling my body his way. It was effortless, his grip light.
His line of sight automatically fell to my lips, and his parted. I knew what that look meant. I swallowed hard as he spoke, trying to preserve control. “Look, I know you might think I’m some kind of perverted motherfucker for coming onto you so strong, but… shit.” He blew a breath, head shaking. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened. I swear it wasn’t supposed to go down that way.”
I was speechless. I was s
orry as well, but then again, I wasn’t. I’d lived out a fantasy. Something I’d wanted to happen for a very long time. Why regret so much? “I don’t think you’re a pervert.” I paused, unsure if I should share the rest of my thoughts out loud. “You weren’t the only one that wanted it to happen. I… tempted you.”
He swallowed hard, ignoring my previous statements. “You can’t tell Izzy about this,” he told me, face scrambled. He didn’t know if I’d told her or not.
I frowned, narrowing my eyes up at him. “I would never tell her.” It felt weird even saying it aloud.
“I know but…” His lips twisted as he released my arm, observing my anger. “Fuck—don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I blinked rapidly.
He stepped forward, head slightly tilted. “When you’re upset, it shows. And it’s hard to ignore because you’re hardly ever upset. I just want to fix it… make you smile again. Make you feel better.” His hand ran down my cheek. My breath collected in my throat.
I wanted to back away as he drew me in—run like hell—but I couldn’t. Damn it, I couldn’t. He smelled so good, his natural scent along with a light spritz of cologne made my insides prickle. And don’t even get me started on his slender body, the V that sank deep into his basketball shorts. Theo held me close, one hand gently traveling down the curve of my hip.
“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Please,” I begged, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean a single damn word of it. Finding the strength to pull away, I shook my head and started to run, but he caught me.
His face was hard, eyes darker when I looked at him again. Instantly, he gripped my hand, rushed through a line of trees, and shoved branches and leaves out of the way. In a matter of seconds, he brought me before him, spinning me around until my back hit rigid bark.
He pressed against me, his mouth claiming, his tongue gradually sliding through and dancing with mine. I moaned and sighed, pushing against him, wanting him to stop and go all at once. I wanted him away from me—off of me—but I also wanted him to never let go. To hold me close.
