A Surprise Reunion (The Surprise Series Book 2)

by C. C. Morian

  ‘Did you have sex?’

  She shouldn’t have been surprised. That was certainly what Richard would be wondering about. But now Melissa was in a difficult position, there was no way to explain things, no way to see his reaction, to nuance the discussion.

  Texting had been a mistake.

  Richard’s question prodded at her, so innocuous on the screen, so full of jeopardy. Melissa’s first thought was to beg off, to tell him she’d explain everything when she got back, but that wouldn’t be fair, and he’d know anyway, by avoiding answering him she’d be admitting to it.

  She’d never been able to lie to him, not really. It was one of the things that made their relationship what it was.

  She typed ‘Yes’, then quickly erased it, and typed ‘Just oral,’ thinking it was stupid, what a ridiculous distinction, more detail than he needed at this time, and yet in some way important to distinguish between any other sex, as if even intercourse could have been more intimate than what she had just done.

  But she couldn’t think of anything else, except that or Yes, so she left it like that, and then held her finger over the send button for an eternity, as if the slightest movement could start a boulder rolling down a steep hill, directly at Richard.

  She pushed the button.

  She froze, dreading what she had done, but at the same time feeling free, an admission to Richard even more patently clear than any words she had been able to use.

  But then a wave of doubt slammed into her, and immediately she wanted to take it back, she wanted to reach out into the ether and retrieve the message, and though she knew it was impossible her hand fumbled at the phone, starting to dial Richard directly, she had to try to explain.

  His face came up on her contact screen, and just as her finger reached to make the call another text from Richard popped up.

  ‘Giving or receiving?’

  Too late, his mind was already on the sex, what could Melissa possibly say that would explain how it had come about, why it had seemed fated to come about?

  Now she had no choice. She texted back. ‘Both.’

  There was a long pause, and Melissa again wondered if she should call, for once not having any idea what he might be thinking, whether he was pissed, or staggeringly hurt with the reality of it.

  She stared at the screen, willing it to life.

  ‘Did you swallow?’

  Melissa looked at the words, dumbfounded, anger flowing through her. She just had sex with another man, the sex itself a warning about what could happen to their marriage, and Richard wanted to know if she had swallowed?

  But she was also thankfully relieved. Richard’s question freed her from her guilt, at least for now, and she would have another day to figure out what to do, about Marcus, about Richard.

  She could have texted back something mean, or not responded at all, but her relief pushed away those ideas.

  She was getting a reprieve, whether she deserved it or not, so she’d give Richard one as well.

  ‘You told me once that if I didn’t give you details, you’d fill them in. So you can decide.’ She smiled, a little sadly, thinking about how excited Richard had been after he had first confessed his fantasies to her.

  But also admitting the truth of it, that seeing his arousal turned her on, and so help her, dangling it in front of him was erotically powerful. What might Richard be doing, right now, thinking about what she and Marcus had done?

  Before she hit send, she added one more thing.

  ‘Sweet dreams.’

  Chapter 16

  The next morning Melissa woke up groggy, having finally fallen asleep late, tossing and turning all night, her body beat but her mind awash with possibilities, dangers, apprehensions. She didn’t get up right away, she lay curled up under the covers, reliving her time with Marcus, which right now seemed like some kind of dream.

  She had been thinking all about herself, and somewhat of Richard, but she hadn’t really thought about how Marcus would react to her reason for being there.

  Marcus had always been so within himself, so strong emotionally, at times almost stoic, and Melissa had made the mistake of not thinking all this would affect him. But it had, she realized that now. His parting comment to her, maybe even the sex itself, had been reactions to the situation she had placed him in.

  Melissa had spent too much time thinking of what Marcus would do, and not enough of the why.

  And because of that she probably had blown her chance, because Marcus thought he was being used.

  And maybe he was right to think that way. To her, she was taking a big risk. But to Marcus, what had she really risked? It wasn’t like she had left Richard, and then told Marcus she wanted to get back together with him because she missed him. Instead, she had left Marcus with the impression that she was on a dalliance, just testing the waters.

  Stupid.

  Protectively, she threw it back on Marcus. It was his fault too. He didn’t ask me more, he assumed the worst. Did he really think I randomly picked him?

  Or maybe he thought I’ve tried this with other men. How would he know?

  Back and forth she went, her head starting to pound. The pounding became louder, and she realized that someone was knocking at the door.

  She jumped up, her heart leaping at the thought that Marcus had returned.

  “Housekeeping!”

  Melissa stopped so suddenly she fell, shaking her head at her foolishness. “Not right now, thanks!” she called out as she picked herself up. She looked over at the bedside clock, it was almost 10:30. Shit.

  It wasn’t like she had much else to do, especially now. The whole reunion idea was shot. Maybe she should just go home.

  And be in exactly the same situation as before. No, worse, because now she knew one thing for certain, she hadn’t been wrong about her need for something more, more passion, more intensity. What Marcus had done to her, what they had done together, was proof.

  Now that she had tasted it again, she wanted it more than ever.

  She reached for her phone. Two texts, both from Julie. The first saying she had arrived, the second, hours later: ‘You must be having fun! Call me when you can.’

  Melissa made herself a cup of coffee in the small pot on the minibar, then went to pee while it was brewing. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror, she didn’t want to face herself just yet.

  After, in the shower, she tried to let her mind rest, the hot water pounding on her face. It worked for a few minutes, but once she had dried her hair and dressed she was at it again, blaming herself, blaming Richard, blaming Marcus, rehashing everything.

  She was at a total loss as to what to do.

  Not that she didn’t have any ideas. When she was in her blaming Marcus mood, she concocted an entire scenario, she’d go to the reunion dinner that night and pick up some guy in front of Marcus, trying to make him jealous, maybe even whispering to him that he hadn’t satisfied her, he had lost his touch.

  It was nonsense, Marcus wouldn’t even be there. If he was there, he wouldn’t care, or he’d think it was desperate and pitiful. And he’d certainly never believe that Melissa hadn’t be wildly turned on by him, not after last night.

  She sat on the loveseat, her legs under her, sipping another cup of coffee, hungry and sad. She thought of herself as a smart woman. Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

  She hadn’t heard from Richard, and considered calling him. But what would she say? After his text last night, she assumed he was okay, certainly far from depressed, and she was still a little angry at him over his questions about her sex with Marcus. Of course he’d be wondering about it. But really?

  And through it all, she really did understand that it was mostly her fault, she was the one who had fucked up.

  She picked up her phone and pulled up Julie’s number. Maybe it wasn’t too early to get drunk.

  Melissa ended up drinking alone. Julie had connected with some friends, they were about to walk into some kind of video recap abou
t the class.

  “What happened? I started to get worried,” asked Julie.

  “Nothing. A lot.”

  “I really can’t talk,” Julie whispered. “Did you see him?”

  “Yes.” Melissa couldn’t decide if she wanted Julie there with her to talk to, or whether it was best to be alone.

  “You sound weird,” said Julie. “Do you want me to come over?”

  Melissa decided alone was better. She didn’t have things straight in her head, she wasn’t sure what she would say to Julie. Or what she wanted to share just yet. “No, you go ahead. “I’ll see you tonight.” Julie hesitated, and Melissa could hear laughter in the background. Melissa didn’t want to ruin Julie’s fun. “Really, go ahead.”

  “Okay,” said Julie. “But call me if you need me.”

  Melissa clicked off and eyed the minibar. She hadn’t even eaten. She’d get sick well before she got drunk.

  Aimlessly, she checked the airline schedule. Being Saturday, the flights were few and far between, there was no direct flight back home until later that evening.

  Whether she wanted to or not, she was stuck here for a while.

  Two hours later, Melissa was feeling a little better. She had eaten and then walked around outside a bit, the weather nice. She didn’t quite feel like going to any of the planned activities, everything sounded boring, mundane. She did take a taxi to the campus, strolling around, seeing lots of activity on this reunion weekend. The bar that she and Julie had frequented was still there, looking seedy in the light of day. A couple, both older than she was, came out, laughing, and Melissa wondered if they had met there. On a lark she went in, the place still a little dingy, but comfortably familiar. She ordered a beer, drinking it while walking around, reconnecting with the place. Most of the décor was still the same.

  After leaving the bar she continued on toward the residential areas. She passed by her old dorms and her senior apartment, each in turn bringing back memories, what she had done in each.

  Where she had first had sex with Marcus.

  Impulsively she pulled out her cell phone and wrote a text for him. Julie had given Melissa his new number from when she had contacted Marcus about the reunion.

  ‘Sorry about last night’, she wrote, then immediately erased it. He’d think she meant the sex, and she certainly wasn’t sorry about that. The sex had complicated things in some way, but in others had made one thing crystal clear: she wasn’t imagining her needs, they were real, they had to be satisfied. And Marcus could satisfy them.

  She put her phone back in her pocket. She should wait for Marcus to contact her. No sooner as she had the thought, she rejected it. Marcus wouldn’t call. Last night, he had waited for her to make the first true move. Who knew why, maybe his complex set of morals, because she was married. Or maybe he just wanted to make her do it. No matter what the reason, he wouldn’t chase her now.

  Melissa typed: ‘Surprise me by giving me a chance to explain.’

  She hit send before she talked herself out of it.

  Back at the hotel Melissa found herself checking her phone to see if Marcus had responded. It made her feel pathetic, so she shucked off her jeans and put on her jogging clothes. A run would be good. She purposely left her phone behind.

  The front desk gave her a running map. The options were limited around the airport, but it didn’t matter, she just wanted to do something, kill some time. At first, she had to concentrate on the unfamiliar location, but as she got her bearings her mind filled again with what had happened the night before.

  She replayed it over and over, feeling Marcus’s hands on her, hearing his voice, amazed over both her reaction and his, that it had come back so forcefully, so immediately. It was like nothing had changed, at least between them. It was as if the huge wall of her marriage, the long ten years, hadn’t happened.

  As she headed back to the hotel she was wet from more than just sweat. More than once she made a wrong turn, her mind was so somewhere else.

  By the time she made it back she had worked herself into a frenzy. She took only a second to check her phone, there were no messages but right now she just didn’t care. She pulled off her running shorts, took a look at the bed, then instead leaned against the wall, right where Marcus had pushed her the night before.

  Her fingers dove for her clit, thinking of his cock, how she had barely hesitated in taking him in her mouth, the desire so strong. How he had fucked her face, and she could almost feel it again, the head driving down her throat, Marcus’s hands on her, demanding.

  She pushed her fingers inside her pussy, a poor substitute for his tongue, but it was all she had. His mouth on her had been amazing, but what she really wanted now was his cock in her, opening her, filling her.

  The thought of it drove made her eyes flutter, wondering if it would feel as good as it had in the past, about whether Marcus being deep inside her would bring a closeness that would transcend lust. She slipped another finger inside herself, and then a third, still a far cry from what she knew he could give her, and then she was using her other hand, rubbing her clit, a sudden flash of something taboo, Marcus fucking her and Richard licking her clit, at the same time, and sick as that was she moaned, letting it play out, Marcus driving into her, Richard so close to it, Richard watching as Marcus grew even thicker and started to shoot his cum in her. She imagined herself grabbing at Richard’s head, pulling him tighter as she felt the cum filling her, oozing, and she had to turn her head into the wall to mask her scream.

  Chapter 17

  Cocktails were scheduled at six. Melissa had fallen asleep, still in her running top, and, now, showered again, she sat in her underwear staring at the two outfits she had laid out on the bed. She had one pair of clean underwear left besides what she had on; Marcus had ruined one, and she had worn the other pair running.

  The skirt or the dress?

  The Saturday dinner would probably be a little dressier. Melissa hadn’t heard from Marcus, but there was always the chance he would just show up at the hotel, at least that’s what she was hoping, She wanted to look her best.

  The dress it was then. An A-line, she looked good in those. A good amount of leg, but not too much. Sleeveless, it would show off her good arms, something a lot of women let go to flab.

  She took extra time in the shower, scrubbing herself clean. After, she got frustrated with her hair, up looked too stark, down looked too plain. She settled for a very loose updo, casual elegant, more chic than office. She went light on the makeup, as she always did, she had a sense that the other women would be overly done, trying to hide the passing years.

  Six o’clock came and went. Melissa realized she was stalling, hoping Marcus would come to her, or at least text. If he did, all the time she had spent on the clothing would either be helpful or a total waste.

  But nothing. No knock, no call. He wasn’t going to surprise her after all, because him giving her a chance to start the weekend over, to explain it all, would have been a surprise; Marcus wasn’t one to give second chances.

  She alternated between anger and sadness, the phone in her hand, watching the minutes tick by, mad at herself, mad at Marcus. Sad because she seemed worse off then ever.

  At 6:35 her phone buzzed and she was so flustered she dropped it. She grabbed it up, hoping to see a message from Marcus, in a split second a whole litany of possibilities running through her head. Marcus waiting for her in the lobby. Marcus on the way up, telling her to be naked in bed. Marcus telling her to get her ass somewhere, he wasn’t going to wait long.

  She would have done anything.

  But the text was from Julie. Melissa, deflated, opened it up.

  ‘Where the hell are you? Marcus is here!’

  Of all the possibilities Melissa might have imagined, that would have been the very last one.

  Outside the hotel there was a man in front of her waiting for a taxi. Ten minutes passed, Melissa frustrated, no taxis, not many people leaving the airport hotel at this hour. The
man, about Richard’s age, tried to strike up a conversation, making small talk, checking her out, staring at her legs.

  Melissa answered in monosyllables, her eyes on the road, praying for a taxi, afraid she’d get to the reunion too late, Marcus would be gone. He had surprised her; he had shown up in the last place she expected, at the reunion dinner. Would he bail out once he found out Melissa wasn’t there?

  Finally a taxi pulled up. The man started to get in, then looked back at her. “Can I drop you somewhere?”

  Melissa’s first reaction was to say no, she didn’t want to be fending off some horny guy with ideas in the back of a cab, but she was desperate. What could happen?

  “I’m going to campus central, over past the green,” she said. “I’m not sure if that is on your way.”

  “One of the reunion dinners? Me too.” He named a frat Melissa vaguely remembered as being filled with geeks. “That’s not too far, you can actually drop me and then take the cab from there.”

  Melissa smiled thanks and scurried into the cab, the man getting in behind her and telling the driver where to go. Along the way the man again tried to talk to her, but gradually subsided as Melissa barely responded, her mind on Marcus, wondering what was going to happen in just a few minutes.

  On frat row the man leaned over toward the driver, getting a little into Melissa’s space, but it barely registered. When the car stopped he pulled out his wallet.

  “I’ll get it,” Melissa said. “I appreciate you letting me share.”

  “Are you sure?” the man asked. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “No, I insist,” she said.

  The man shrugged, got out, and then looked back in the car. “Want to come in for a drink? No reason to be alone.”

  Melissa turned to him, noticing his features for the first time, she had been so preoccupied. He wasn’t bad looking at all, and was certainly polite.