Love Is Louder

by Antoinette Candela

  Pushing aside some files off the desk, she sits in front of me, crossing her legs and brushing up against my knee. I notice her nipples poking though her silk cream blouse, and I get a peek of her white lace bra.

  Fuck...

  “Very rough day,” I choke out gruffly, fully aware of what she’s doing to me. My confined cock is throbbing as I stare at the contours of her mouth. I want to feel her so badly. Leaning forward, she runs her hand down the front of my dress shirt with her plump breasts inches from my watering mouth.

  “Let me make it better,” she whispers into my ear, gracefully pulling away like a cat so I can gaze down the length of her body.

  I’m confused, drunk, and aroused.

  Recognizing what’s going on and what shouldn’t happen, I push back from my desk to create some space between us, but she just stalks forward. I notice how her blue eyes slowly peruse my body. She presses her palms onto my chest and quickly straddles me.

  “God, it’s hot in here.” She smiles salaciously as she unbuttons her blouse and pulls her blonde hair out of her bun so that it falls seductively over her shoulders in thick waves as her blouse slips off her shoulders.

  I try to tell her to give me space, but the words don’t want to come out.

  “Scotch...my favorite,” she purrs as she takes the bottle from my hand. “Do you mind?”

  She wraps her lips around the rim of the bottle suggestively. Throwing back her head, she takes a generous sip before I can respond. I don’t like the direction I’m taking with this, but I draw in a deep breath and push all those thoughts aside. Lust prickles between us like a live wire, just waiting for the spark for everything to combust.

  Before I know what I’m doing, I’m grasping her hips. She sets down the bottle and positions herself above my cock. Her lips part, her breathing increases as she watches my eyes with an increasing passion. My willpower is gone, taken under a strong riptide and swept away by the alcohol.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn.

  “James, say something,” she breathes over my lips.

  I sigh raggedly and close my eyes. Guilt knots in my throat, but I don’t make a move to pull away. The scotch is being my friend and my enemy. With my resolve wavering, a moan stubbornly escapes my lips as she grinds against my cock. Making a noise in her throat, she unbuttons my shirt and runs both of her hands over my chest. She plants soft kisses onto my skin and runs her hand up behind my neck and then upward tugging at my hair.

  Fuck.

  Was this always there with me? Was it brewing under the surface and waiting for the right moment to take advantage of the obvious attraction? I made myself believe I was strong enough to fight her advances, but I was fooling myself all along. I don’t have it in me to resist. Before my mind can catch up with my dick, my hand travels down her cheek to her shoulder and then brushes over her breast. Her skin is hot and smooth, radiating the same desire I’m feeling. I watch her eyes, gauging her reaction to my moves. She gasps at my touch and leans closer with her supple lips slightly apart, her wanton eyes dropping to my lips.

  When her gaze returns to mine, I don’t hide the predatory gleam in my eyes. My cock thickens and heat that I don’t deny or dismiss rages in my veins.

  I can have all of her if I want her.

  And I want her.

  I grab her ass, pushing her into my steel cock as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  “James.” She lets go of my neck and starts unbuckling my belt. She unzips my pants and slips her hands down my boxers, wrapping her hand around my shaft. “I need you.”

  Completely at the mercy of my aching cock, I crash my lips against hers and run my hands up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher and tearing her thin lace panties off her body. I throw open my desk drawer and grab a condom. Why it’s here I don’t know. Perhaps I knew this day would come.

  I have to have her now. I tear open the condom and quickly protect my dick as Lisa’s eyes lock with supplication. As I easily lift her and position her above me, she guides my cock to her wet heat. I savagely push her down by her shoulders so that she sinks onto my cock.

  I unclasp her bra and take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking her breast as she tugs and pulls at my hair. I grip her ass tighter, forcing her tight to my groin and roll my hips, hitting her pussy with the head of my cock. Her frantic moans drive heat to my balls. She rides me, her hips grinding, pumping up and down on my dick as her hands claw at my neck, our bodies pressed together hard as she cries out.

  Fuck, yes.

  “Fucking ride me.”

  “James...” she whimpers, arching her back. “Yes...” Her head falls back as she pants for air, her hips matching my thrusts. I’m attacked with intense pleasure as she squeezes me again and again in long series of short, sharp contractions. I keep her tight to me, grinding the head of my cock deep with hard jerks until my body locks up with ecstasy, blinding fucking pleasure as the violence of her climax triggers my own.

  Her limp body falls against mine as her fingers dance across my neck, her ragged warm breath trailing over my neck. The one and only thought cutting across my brain at this second is I wish instead of trying to catch my breath I were taking my last.

  As I sit in my darkened office that’s filled with the scent of sex, I realize what a mistake I made.

  Was all of this worth it? What have I gained from this? These few minutes can destroy so much.

  So much is hanging over my head I’m unable to decipher right from wrong anymore. I just want to feel good, no guilt or regret. But how can I when the woman I was just fucking in my office twenty minutes ago was not my wife? I need to take out my frustrations on someone. Lisa was here and available. She found me at my lowest, and here I am lower than fucking ever.

  I’m thankful for the silence at eleven o’clock in the morning. James is playing golf with Michael, an old high school friend, while Ava and I planned an afternoon of shopping. I’m overdue for some retail therapy and have had my eyes set on a black dress and heels in the new boutique that just opened in town. I’m thinking James would appreciate me picking up some new black lingerie as well, and I have my own rather selfish reasons after our little tryst in my walk-in closet.

  Ed Sheeran’s “Give Me Love” fills the space as I shuffle to the kitchen in my bare feet to pour a glass of Shiraz. The golden sun beckons me so I head outside to the back patio to enjoy my wine, dip my toes into the pool, and soak some vitamin D for ten minutes before I head back inside.

  I check the clock as I finish my wine. Ava was supposed to get back with me within the hour. In the meantime, I grab my cell as to not miss her call and decide to do a couple of loads of laundry. Images of Mason clog my brain as soon as I enter the little laundry room, but there’s more to him than just his rugged good looks and kind heart.

  “Seriously, Brie, this is ridiculous,” I mumble as I throw some of James’ clothes into the washing machine. I peel off my sundress to throw into the wash as well. “I hate doing laundry.” Slamming the lid shut, I lean against the washer as heat rushes to my cheeks while the lascivious thoughts run through my head.

  He’s a father.

  He’s already got my attention, but now the idea that he has a daughter puts him in a whole different light. I would have never known a man like him would have a child.

  Why?

  Just because he’s handsome and not wearing a ring doesn’t mean he can’t have a child.

  Lily.

  Who is her mother? Is she around? Is it Cindy? Does it even matter? She is loved and safe.

  The moments I saw Mason interact with her at the studio pulled at my heart in a bittersweet way, and I don’t think I did a good job of masking my sorrow in front of him. My emotions have been on edge lately. All the while he was there with Lily, I pictured how James would be if we were to have a daughter. Would he be that doting and attentive? I’ve seen it in with my own eyes. I know James is capable. I believe he would be, maybe not now, not this year, but some time down the road. It s
till can happen. Tears rage behind my irises. Lately, it does not take much to make me an emotional mess.

  I need more wine.

  This isn’t good. Am I turning into James’ mother who loves to have wine before noon?

  For now, I change my mind about the wine and resume sorting through laundry when my phone rings.

  I brighten when I see it’s James.

  He can’t be done already. Eighteen holes and beer with the guys takes almost all day. Straightening, I grab the phone and kick at the endless pile of laundry at my feet.

  “Hey...”

  “Baby.”

  “Yes, you called?” I tease with light laughter.

  “What is my wifey doing?”

  “Laundry.”

  “I wish it were me you were doing.”

  “Then come home and do me,” I suggest as I pick up his jeans before digging though the pockets.

  “I’m tempted, B. What are you wearing?”

  “Who wants to know?” I whisper, letting my thoughts run away with a fantasy of James taking me.

  “I’m sure plenty of men want to know, but you’re for my eyes only. Only my hands touch you, my lips kiss you, and I fuck you. Just me.”

  The air in the room is suddenly too cool against my hot skin. I shiver as my nipples bead, grazing uncomfortably against my bra. How does he do that? A few words and he has me looking at the clock, thinking so many naughty things.

  “Ohh...” I cock my head to the side, feeling flames lick at my core. “I’ve made this too easy for you then. I need to reassess my game plan and make this harder for you.”

  “Harder? Yes, you always make me hard. Just remember at the end of the day, you’re mine.”

  “Think so?”

  “Yes, tell me. Now.”

  His demand echoes in my head, both sultry and unforgiving.

  All I can think about are the consequences of keeping James in the dark, letting his mind imagine, and the physical response to the anticipation which is already becoming difficult to ignore.

  “Guess?”

  “Don’t hold out on me, babe. Standing around a bunch of guys in pink polo shirts and plaid golf shorts is not number one on my lists of things to do. You are. Tell me, since there are no clean clothes. Are you naked? Will you be ready for me?”

  I grin as a little thrill starts working its way through me. No, it’s not little. It’s big. There’s nothing little about James.

  Fuck, yes.

  My mind is humming with desire as I peer down at my body in a beige lace thong and bra. James wanting me and me wanting him right now and not being able to have him is driving us both crazy.

  “If I say yes, will it make you come home faster?”

  “Come…yes…I’ll come…come hard.”

  “I’ve got one more hour, and I’ll be home. Will you be there?”

  “I planned on going shopping with Ava, but if you get here…”

  “Cancel with her. This is more important.”

  “Is it now?”

  “Yes, and I was thinking maybe we can go out for dinner in town, after we play hard. Something simple. Burgers and fries at the Shake Shack.”

  “Ugh,” I pout. “Can we eat in? I have some ideas of food choices that can be easily eaten off my body.”

  “Fuck, babe, you drive a hard bargain, and I love where you’re going with this, but let’s save the best for last. For later. Let’s do something low-key. We haven’t been out like that in a while, not since our college days. Do you remember that place in Harvard Square? Bartley’s?”

  “Yes.”

  I also remember when I saw him with another girl whom he said was in his criminal law class and was his partner in numerous debates and projects. Sure, I remember the beginning of our relationship and how he had to wean off the girls and how he’d still get random calls in the middle of the night. I heard it all. I was a light sleeper, but he was sleeping with me, so it didn’t matter. That’s what he told me, at least.

  “Fine. I can do that for you.”

  “That’s my girl. I’ll see you in an hour.” He pauses. “Naked.”

  The words spur me, erasing all my negative thoughts of the past. I need him. Now.

  “Okay, babe.”

  I hang up and text Ava, asking for a rain check on the shopping trip and resume laundry duty. My thoughts are not on doing laundry anymore, but on James doing me. Imagining him fucking me has my mind in a cloud of fire and clueless to everything around me as the contents in his pockets, mainly loose change, tumble out and roll underneath the washing machine.

  “This is great.” I chuckle as I get on my hands and knees.

  I’m sure James would like to see me like this on the cold marble floor hunting for quarters with my ass in the air.

  The image of James taking me from behind makes me hot with desire. I corral my thoughts away from James’ promises and return to the task at hand.

  Sliding my hand underneath, I recover all the change and something more, something unexpected. A simple shiny gold band.

  Sitting back on my heels, I roll it over in my fingers. The cleaners have not been here in over three weeks and would have put this aside if they found it. There has been no one else here since then except Mason. Could this be his? Did I even check his right hand? All that matters is that there was no ring on his left, right?

  I slip it onto my finger, twisting it around anxiously. It won’t hurt to ask. I can’t remember what I did with his business card. I can always ask his girlfriend. She’d recognize the ring if I went by the flower shop.

  My phone buzzes. Without bothering to check who’s calling, I pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Brie, how are you?”

  I bring my hand to my mouth, muffling the sound of my shock at hearing her voice.

  The sound of her voice creates a whirlwind of concern inside me, like a coil ready to spring loose. My feet are heavy boulders as I tread into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and push open the French doors and step out into the late morning July air again. I thought I told her I was done needing her help and advice. I made it all clear when James and I moved here a year ago.

  “Hi, Natalie,” I force out. “How did you get my number?”

  “Your mother. She said you haven’t returned her calls or texts.”

  Shit.

  Before I left, I wanted to start off fresh, just James and me. This past year has been rather hectic trying to get my business off the ground, so I haven’t been in touch with my family as much as I would like. Despite my strong façade, I miss my parents so much.

  I need air. I need something to drink, and I need to get out of the house. James will be here in an hour; I still have time.

  “I’ve been too busy.” I reenter the house and head upstairs to my bedroom. My nerves are strung tightly. It’s a half-truth, but the fact she gave Natalie my new number isn’t right. My mother betrayed me. “I hope you remember our last conversation,” I continue.

  “Yes, your mother wanted me to call you. I saw her a couple of weeks ago. This is the first I’ve had a chance to reach out.”

  I pause as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. “It’s not necessary. I’ll call her when things settle down here.” I tug a red tank dress off the hanger and struggle to slip it on with one hand while holding the phone to my ear. “I’m sorry to cut this phone call short, but I have to go,” I say in a curt tone as I slip on a pair of sandals and rush down the stairs.

  Natalie releases a sigh. She knows what I’m doing, and she can’t stop me from avoiding this discussion over the phone.

  “Brie—”

  “It was nice talking to you, but I’m running late and have to meet James in town,” I lie.

  I actually have a date with the liquor store. We’re running low on wine because I say so, and this latest phone call warrants me restocking to the fullest. Shoving the ring into my purse, I grab my keys and sunglasses and rush out the door.

  “Ho
w are you and James?”

  Argh…she is so damn persistent.

  I glance at my watch and hop inside my car, intentionally revving the engine so she hears it purr. “We’re doing great.”

  “You know I’m not here to badger you.”

  What do you call this then?

  “Everything is fine.” I rest my forehead on the steering wheel, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Closing my eyes, I try to draw air like someone is strangling my windpipe. Dots cloud my vision, blackness an old sore in my chest opens, and my exhale erupts into a silent sob. Parts of my life come back in short bursts of light, like paparazzi camera flashes.

  “Brie, that wasn’t the case before.”

  Opening my eyes, I sit up and say softly, “You need to trust what I say to you, Natalie.” I try to saturate my thoughts with all the positives that have occurred between James and me until our last argument about having a baby. “Things are better.” I pull out of the driveway. Still the questions remain. Why and how much more time is he going to need? How much longer will I wait? Does he want one at all?

  “Good.”

  “Is that all?” I stop at a red light, waiting with bated breath for her to ask her for the meds for depression. It’s improving since we moved here, and then with James’ distance, I tried not to think about it too much. That’s when the yoga came into play, but sometimes that’s not enough.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “You really don’t need to call me. If anything happens, I can call my mother. She knows that. James and I are doing great.”

  “All right, I hope you call her soon.”

  “I will,” I reply before we say our goodbyes.

  I toss the phone onto the seat and turn on the radio as the cool breeze blows across my skin. Natalie is someone that’s supposed to improve my mood, but all she does is remind me of when I was at my lowest point. I want to get rid of everything and everyone that was associated with that time of my life. I have moved forward and can’t look back. Depression starts stealing your strength; your thoughts and feelings are covered in a gray cloud of bleakness so that the sun is unable to break through, leaving no room for hope to flourish.