by Amy Isan
“Then you’ll get back up again,” Hugh said. My mom and I looked at him in surprise, I didn’t think he’d say anything. “Sorry.”
My mom brightened, “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I was thinking anyway.”
“Just stay positive, and I think it’ll all work out.” I added.
My mom squeezed my hand and nodded, her eyes wetting. “Your dad and I think we have a place picked out. The hospital recommended it to us, a little private clinic outside of town. I get to stay there for thirty days.”
“A month?” My eyes widened. “That’s a long time.”
“It’ll be good though. They told me the first week is the hardest.”
My dad walked into the living room and sat down next to her. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him. “You’ll do great,” he said.
“I’m going to ask a favor of you,” my mom said.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t visit me for the first week. I know you’ve seen me in pretty horrid conditions, but I want the next time you see me to be a new look.”
“Mom...” I felt my throat tighten. I hugged her again, trying to not let my emotions get the best of me. Hugh touched my back, which gave me some reassurance.
Things were going to be okay.
***
We stayed at the hotel for the next couple days. Going out to grab a bite to eat here and there, staying inside and watching bad television.
It was nice to be with him again, to have that comfort and warmth at my side when I slept. To wake up with misty eyes from bad dreams, and have him there to comfort me.
I groped more at my feelings as they were blossoming. My stolen glances lasted longer and longer. Every time I’d swallow another thought of what our future might hold, I’d have to choke back the reminder that he still had things to work through.
If only we had met a little later in life, we could be all set up to get back together and have everything be peachy. I could have my degree, and not have the baggage from my family. I wouldn’t have to feel that tug of wanting to drink when things got tough. Or at least, I’d have it under control?
Maybe he would have moved past his grief. The future would be bright and we could look at that instead of the dark moments where we’d cradle each other on the bed. Nights where we drank a little too much together, and our feelings burst forth into rambling, slurred sentences.
The nights where we’d try to grope at what was happening inside ourselves. His memories of Marcia still fresh, my anxiety over my family deepening. But we’d have each other to hold, to kiss, to love.
***
The last morning of Hugh’s vacation, I woke up and threw my arms over him, laying my head on his chest. He grunted a little in surprise as I slammed into him, then he chuckled. After a few moments, he broke our morning silence.
“I love you, Caitlin.” Hugh said. I could feel his heart racing against my cheek when he said the words. I lifted my head and turned to look at him.
“Hugh...” I whispered. He drew his lips into a line and looked away. I touched his cheek. “I love you too.”
He looked startled when he caught my gaze again. He leaned over and kissed me, my hand wrapping around the back of his neck as the moment lengthened.
His kiss made the hairs on my neck rise. He pushed them back down with his hand as he turned me over to take me in that moment. Ecstasy washed over me and I couldn’t help but laugh a little. My emotions were high.
“Do you want to come back to Reno with me today? You could stay here and see your mom... you could see her Monday.”
I shook my head vigorously, my hair bouncing a little. “No. I want to go back with you. I feel like I have to.” I touched my chest. He kissed my head and moved to get out of bed.
“Let’s get going then.”
Chapter 8
Soon, we were back on his jet and soaring through the air over the midwest. Hugh was in bright spirits that morning and so was I. I felt off though, like maybe things were happening too fast.
“Is this too fast?” I asked him, leaning closer. He was sitting opposite of me, his legs crossed. His gaze was wandering out the window.
He looked at me. “Us? I don’t think so...”
I swallowed spit. I shook my head, but I didn’t really know why.
“Okay. It’s just, everything is so intense you know?”
He nodded. “Is that bad?”
“Maybe it isn’t... just different,” I said. I sat up in my seat a little, a sense of relief washing over me.
“Different is good. I need different.”
The hum of the airplane droned on. So much flying. I thought having a week off from it would be relaxing, but even still, it was a little much. I decided to try and doze off for the rest of the flight. As I was closing my eyes, I saw him study me, his eyes flicking up and down my body. I smirked a little.
***
The rumble of the wheels hitting the tarmac woke me up with a start, and I sat up quickly. I wiped drool off my face, and looked around to see if Hugh had seen me in such an embarrassing way.
He looked startled too, so he must’ve just woken up.
I laughed. “Did it wake you up too?”
“Y-yeah, I usually can’t sleep on planes...” He ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it.
Hugh followed me as I exited the plane, and he poked me in my ribs, making me to laugh.
***
We picked up his car and drove home. I don’t know if I should have called it home, but it felt right. I even had to admit that the interior design was really charming, which I don’t think I could have managed when I first found out. Not honestly at least.
She had good taste, I had to give her that much.
It felt nice to not have such a strong animosity towards her. Talking to Hugh helped me see that he wasn’t trying to antagonize or trick me with his ring, just that he might have been as confused as I was.
I sighed as I dropped my bags unceremoniously in the entryway. I didn’t care to unload them that moment — I was too hungry. He moved past me to take his luggage into the bedroom.
“Aren’t you starving?” I called after him.
His voice came from the hallway, “Definitely. Want me to whip something up?” I heard his luggage crash on the ground in the bedroom. I sighed and picked my suitcase up, figuring I might as well take it into the bedroom too. “How about some chicken clubs?”
“That sounds good,” I said. We ran into each other in the hall, and I added, “I’m going to take a quick shower then.”
“Great, I’ll get started.” He clapped his hands together with a smile. He seemed happy to be home too.
I was going to be happy just getting showered and fed. After the last week, I felt like I could take on anything.
***
In the bathroom, I turned on the hot water. I let the spray hit the shower wall before I climbed in.
As I started soaking my hair, I thought about waking up next to Hugh that morning. His strong arms, his smooth chest, his confessing his love to me.
“God, why didn’t we fuck?”
I daydreamed about him scooping me up in his arms and throwing me onto his bed. My fingers wandered down my body, tracing the water until I reached between my legs.
Better yet, he could take me right on the balcony, my hands tied to the railing and his hips slapping against my ass. His hot dick coating my insides. I’d have to spread my legs out pretty far for him to have room. The desert breeze would kick up and tickle my dewy body. I’d squeeze the rails as he pushed into me, and I’d moan, reaching behind me and groping his ass.
“Oh god, that sounds really hot,” I muttered to myself. I brushed my hand back against my clit, giving myself a tantalizing tease.
I’d have to save it though, maybe later I could convince Hugh to have his way with me again.
After rinsing, I shut the water off. As I dried my hair as best I could, I got an idea. I wrapped m
y towel around my body and went out into the kitchen to meet him.
He looked surprised to see me, a dirty look in his eyes. “That’s lovely,” he breathed.
I dropped my towel to the floor before stepping out of it. He was still fully clothed in his suit, but I was completely naked. His eyes widened, and I felt that sense of heat flow from him.
“Do you want me? Right here in the kitchen?”
“Mhmm,” he grunted, stepping closer to me. He set down the cutting board he was holding and cupped my breast. I quivered under his touch, goosebumps coating my skin.
He leaned down and kissed my breast, before taking my nipple in his mouth with his lips. He tongued it, and sucked on it like a piece of hard candy.
I moaned, feeling my knees grow weak to his touch. I leaned onto his arm that was wrapped around me, giving him a better angle to suck on my tits.
“You like that?” he gasped for air. I nodded slowly, my damp hair slicking off my upper back.
He grabbed my hands and put them on the edge of the counter. “Don’t let go of this counter. Whatever you do.”
I nodded, feeling my cheeks turn red. I loved the tone he adopted when he told me what to do.
“Yes, whatever you say.” I eyed him.
“Don’t be coy, just grab the counter,” he said. I shuddered as I did. My knuckles turned white, and I leaned over the granite. He moved behind me, his hand staying on top of my back.
He put his hands between my thighs and coaxed me to spread my legs out. I did, still holding the counter, almost balancing some of my weight on it.
He knelt down and I felt his tongue taste my skin. It moved between my thighs. He slid his tongue against my pussy, tickling each fold and drinking me up.
My arms grew weaker, my legs dropping some slack as I collapsed against the counter. My elbows shot out from under me, and my tits pressed against the cold granite. He slurped and drank me up.
“Don’t let go of the counter, Cay.”
His tongue was moving further south, more than I thought it should. I gasped as his tongue hit my asshole. I moaned in a mixture of surprise and shock, as he licked me over and over again, swirling his tongue around my rim.
He growled, “You like that? You’re a dirty girl aren't you?” I nodded hard, my hair falling onto my face.
He stood up and started unbuckling his pants. I shivered in lurid anticipation, my breathing shallow and fast. My heart raced in my palms, my ears burning. I pushed myself up off the counter, some of my strength coming back.
I felt the smooth tip of his cock glide against my pussy, moving between my lips and coaxing my clit. I seized again, falling back against the counter with a light slap of skin.
Before he penetrated me, I felt his fingers slowly wrap around my neck. He slid them underneath my hair, and his smooth hands tickled me.
As he plunged his cock into me, he squeezed and made me gasp for air. My vision blurred with tears for a moment. A second later, he released his grip on my neck, his cock fully inside me. It was a blur, but I couldn’t believe how hot it got me.
“Don’t go slow,” I begged him.
He eased out of me with an agonizing pace. “I don’t think you’re the one to give orders right now,” he said. A chuckle escaped his lips. He pushed his cock back into me, and I tried to thrust my hips back into him, to make him go faster.
He paced me, squeezing my ass. He laughed. “Nice try,” he said. “But I’m in control.”
I looked at him over my shoulder, and saw the difficulty in his eyes. He wasn’t having an easy time restraining himself either.
I swear I could feel every textured inch of that shaft run through me. I gasped and moaned loudly, my voice echoing through the kitchen.
“That’s fucking hot,” he finally relented. He started fucking me harder, his balls slapping against my skin with every powerful thrust. I felt like I was getting rocked, my skin rubbing hard against the granite with every tempestuous stroke.
“Shit, Hugh,” I cried out. “Right there, keep going.”
“I would, but...” he grunted, slowing his pace for a moment, “I don’t have a condom on.”
“I don’t care, I’ll take care of it,” I said. I looked at him again, and he nodded. His groans grew closer and shallower, and I started to realize what was happening. I gasped, and a hot wave of energy rippling through me, blinding me. I convulsed, my pussy feeling white hot with him inside me. He thrust a couple more times, then pulled out.
I hopped off the counter and knelt down in front of him, pulling his cock in my mouth. He grunted for a moment, and I felt his load spill onto my tongue. I drank him down, every suck making him shudder with impossible pleasure. He twitched and sighed heavily, before pulling his cock out of my mouth. I kissed him, giving him a sly look.
“Shit, you’re dangerous. I nearly came inside you.”
“Oh man, that would’ve been bad,” I teased him. “But so hot.”
He nodded, his forehead glistening with sweat.
He pulled his pants back on and buckled them. I felt my stomach and realized how hungry I really was now that I was worn out. “Now I’m starving.”
***
We sat to eat at the table and I didn’t bother getting dressed. Just being naked in his house felt so freeing. “This sandwich is amazing,” I said, smacking my lips.
He laughed a little, “You’re absolutely glowing you know.”
“Shouldn’t I be?” I shot him a coy smile.
He glanced at his watch. “Would it be okay if I dashed into town? Scott wanted to see me.”
“When did that happen?” I licked my fingers.
“He called me when you were in the bathroom. I guess James must’ve told him I was back in town.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I should be fine.”
“Okay good. I’ll pick something up for you,” he said with a wink. He stood up and gathered our plates and put them in the dishwasher. I watched him move around the kitchen, just studying him.
“I’ll only be gone a little bit...” He looked around, and his expression softened. “Make yourself at home.” He kissed me, which started as a simple peck on the lips, but grew into something more passionate. I held on to him as long as possible, his lips moving against mine, light gasps of air between us.
“Okay, okay.” I pushed him away with a smile, “You should get going.”
He beamed and went out the front door.
I let the air settle, while the idea that I was completely alone in his huge condo dawned on me. I moved to the couch, turning on the television and using a pillow as a makeshift blanket. I refused to get dressed.
***
The late afternoon sun peeked through the blinds into the living room. It was cool inside, but it looked miserable out there. I grew bored of watching TV and decided to do a little snooping around. Maybe he did have some pictures of me?
I looked around at all the decorations, until I came across a small table with a bunch of picture frames on it. I stood up from the couch, my curiosity piqued.
I picked one frame up. Looked like Marcia and Hugh, enjoying some sunny day. I felt a twinge of sadness and happiness. He looked happy.
Tucked underneath the table was a photo album. Now I really shouldn’t dig, but a peek couldn’t hurt. I pulled the album out and sat on the floor in front of it. It isn’t a competition, I reminded myself, as I opened the first page.
Wedding pictures of Marcia and Hugh. Each picture had a caption, including who took it. A polaroid on the first page was signed by both of them, with a fancy plus-symbol between their names. They had their arms around each other, and were both laughing.
It was a nice picture, but I felt... confused. A little irrational.
But now I was transfixed. I kept going through the pictures, finding ones of Hugh’s dad and Marcia, toasting. Hugh and his best man. Hugh and Marcia eating their cake. Each page kept building this anxiety in me, and I felt my chest tighten each time.
The last
page was just her, a candid. It stood out from the rest because she wasn’t in her wedding gown. It was dated before the wedding anyway. The flash had caught her, but it was surprisingly flattering.
It wasn’t secured against the page like the rest, so I pulled it off. On the back was a little letter, signed by her.
“Hugh - you took this the first day we met. Had I known what would happen between us, I would look even happier in this picture. I feel so lucky to be with you, and I can’t wait to grow old in your arms. -Yours forever, Marci”
As I finished reading it, I noticed my hand was shaking. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself I wasn’t competing with her, I just couldn’t believe it. That if I was a better match for him, he wouldn’t have such a hard time getting over her, right? I fought back my tears, and put the picture back the way I found it. I felt like it was written to upset me. I wanted to tear it up, but I stopped myself. I put the album back. My face felt hot.
What is Hugh doing with me anyway? Why would he want to be with me? Was it to try and re-live some kind of high school dream?
I wanted to grab his hand, and tear that ring off. I wanted to take it and throw it into the trash. Tears would be pouring down my face, but not out of sadness, but desperate anger.
“Am I not good enough?” I would scream at him.
He’d be silent, and that would be all the answer I needed. I’d walk out the door, and go back to my shitty town, with my shitty parents and my shitty friends. What was the point anyway?
***
An hour or two of bad TV shows later, Hugh came home. He was smiling when I meant him at the door, but his expression faded when he saw me.
“Anything wrong?” He asked as he shut the door behind him.
“What’d Scott want to see you about?”
“Oh, nothing much. He just wanted to bullshit a little, see if I was happy with you.”
“What’d you tell him?” I still felt a little weird.
“I said I hadn’t been as happy in years.” He gave me a kiss. “Do you want to go get dinner tonight?”
It was getting pretty late in the day. I looked at the couch and coffee table, it was littered with snack food wrappers and trash. He added, “Oh, maybe you’re not hungry enough.”
