by Amelia Hart
She tested the hold while he blinked innocently at her like he didn't know she hadn't planned on this, like he couldn't see her indignation and the small war she waged between politeness and her desire to poke him in the eye for overpowering her. She didn't struggle, she just flexed subtly, and he gave no ground, only kissed her temple and snuggled in like he was oblivious.
"Luke-"
"Sweetheart," he purred, nuzzled into her neck and shifted his whole body so it rubbed against every part of her he could reach, trying to distract her, trying not to focus too much on the feeling of her in case she distracted him. He needed all his wits about him.
He caught her earlobe in his mouth and sucked on it, slid his thigh between hers, rubbed his hands down the muscles on either side of her spine to urge her down on that thigh, moved all of him back and forth, willing her to lose her train of thought and reach for the body that had brought her so much pleasure last night.
She was still clenched up tight and he massaged the long muscles of her thighs, over her buttocks, up her flanks, chanting in his head 'let me in let me in let me in' and when he felt the first subtle shift of her in response to him he nearly yelled in relief. He cupped his hands over the small breasts that lifted towards him, slid under the thick material of her tracksuit top to feel them wrapped up in a lacy little something not nearly thick enough to hide her budded nipples from him.
He wanted to growl at the feeling, vindicated and frantic to prove she must stay here with him, but sound might wake her from her the sensual daze he had tipped her into so he was silent, turning his body to the task of seducing her. Her bottom shifted against his knee so he pressed her there a little harder, giving her the grind she wanted and he heard her indrawn breath and knew she liked it so he did it again just the same.
His hands were quick, roving from one tender curve to the next, trying to flood her with sensation and leave no room for those nasty little words she'd been thinking to herself all these hours. He bent at the waist to add the persuasion of his mouth, awkward when she was little compared to him but necessary to apply those little teasing nips on the neck that made a woman want to sigh and surrender.
When she tilted her head back to give him better access he narrowed his eyes in satisfaction and let his fingertips coast gently down over the womanflesh between her thighs, just a glancing touch and then away again, giving her that grinding presence of his own thigh then a second touch of fingers, too quick for her to protest.
Now his hand slid over her backside, inside her pants, and delved into that delicious cleft from a new direction and escaped again quickly, hearing the gasp, roaming up her back to squeeze officially non-erogenous zones. He had felt the wetness of her and it made him crazy to think about it so he tried not to. This was a serious business here and there was no time for distraction.
Her thighs relaxed and parted, so he laid her on her back and put his body between them with a gentle, inexorable motion, kept his weight on his knees and elbows but put his shifting body against her chest in a full-body massage, felt the hard points of her nipples even through the thick cotton and knew they'd be feeling him too.
He kissed her, a passionate, heady kiss, and when her body rose to his he pushed his pelvis against her so his erection lay nestled right in the cleft of her where it belonged, and he knew he'd judged it right when she groaned and pushed back up on him in a slow rub that said yes she wanted him right in there and no, she wasn't thinking straight anymore.
Pumping slow against her to drive her wild, gritting his teeth against the excruciating pleasure of it, he shifted one of her thighs up and then the other, so they were against his chest and he could draw her pants over her bottom and leave her naked against his cock right there where she was so wonderfully swollen and slippery.
There, right there, he paused, filled with a sudden qualm of conscience. He knew this wasn't her plan and it wasn't in his nature to take advantage but damned if he was letting her go without a fight. He knew they had sex going for them but there was no way reaching for a condom right now was going to keep her in the mood for a little reckless enjoyment. He was a clean-living guy but they'd never actually had that conversation and he didn't want to frighten her or do wrong by her and--
Then she changed the angle of her pelvis and caught the tip of his cock inside her, flexed upwards in clear welcome, and drew him in. And yeah that's when he just stopped thinking for a little bit, that slow slide into heaven too much for any man to feel and keep his head straight. He groaned and shuddered and went deeper and still deeper, gently, the angle making her impossibly tight around him so he wanted to curse with the heat and the incredible goodness of it but refusing to dirty up the beautiful air that surrounded her.
So he bit his lip hard and tilted his head back and felt the feeling of taking root in her from the crown of his head down to his toes, a great spasm of rightness. Then he slid almost out of her and did it again because he couldn't resist it and he wished she would open her eyes and look at him but they stayed closed and he just had to imagine that clear, gray-eyed gaze on him, completing the moment.
He had planned on just two strokes but in the end he needed a third, his body gently persuading hers to let him in even deeper and then he stopped and cupped her neck in his hand, his other hand he slid in under her body so he had her wrapped around and impaled on him with nowhere to hide or escape and then he said:
"You wanted to say something to me?"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She opened her eyes and stared up at him, astonished.
How could he choose this moment to remind her of it? How could she possibly string two thoughts together when he was so deeply inside her and she was stretched and invaded by him, her whole body singing out for completion.
Was he nuts?
What had she been going to say? She could not even remember right now.
She drew in a breath to tell him off but before she could say a word he flexed within her, withdrew and returned in a slow slide that just drove her out of her mind. She exhaled, gulped, fought the urge to let her eyes drift back in her head, blinked hard, tried to concentrate.
"What?" she asked.
"What did you want to say?" he repeated patiently, a faint furrow between his brows. His shoulders were bunched and she realized she gripped them hard to pull him closer. She wanted his body against hers, but her own clothes and her legs were in the way and it was not really comfortable. In fact it was maddening when she wanted all of him and she could not get at him.
"What do you want to say, sweetheart?"
"I don't . . . I don't know."
"Sure you do. You got out of bed and went to sit on that chair so you could tell me something."
Yes she had. That was right. She was going to tell him they could not do this again. Though now it seemed she was wrong because they were doing it again and not only that but if he stopped right now she might have to kill him out of frustration and what she really wanted was for him to take those pants back off her so she could be naked again.
"Shut up," she told him.
His measured strokes in and out of her became a pattern of thrusts, still slower than she wanted, still maddening.
"I'm listening, sweetheart. You just say what you want to say and get it off your chest."
"I don't want to say anything."
"Come on. You lay it on me. I'm listening."
"I . . . I . . ."
"Tell me."
He kept up that soft, sucking rhythm, the heated rod of him making her over into his sheath, designed to wrap him up just perfectly, stretching to accommodate.
"Pants off," she told him.
"Hmmm?'
"Take my pants off."
He pulled out, rearranged her to whip the thick cotton out of the way and take her underpants with it. The absence of his touch gave her a moment of clarity.
"You have to know that we can't keep . . . ahh." He had come back to her and now the absence of barriers between their lower bodies meant
the ridges of his lowest abdominals and pubic bone were firm against her clit as he filled her again in one unhesitating thrust.
She sighed, planted her heels on the mattress and pushed up against him, her head fell back on the pillow. His hand massaged the back of her neck and made her feel weak and boneless.
"Can't keep what?" he asked.
"Can't keep . . . hmmmm."
"Pardon?"
"Keep doing this. We can't keep doing this."
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, suddenly going still.
"No! Don't stop."
"Oh," he resumed his rhythm. "Good." She could feel tension spiraling up higher within her, an urgent throbbing. When she looked up at him she saw his teeth were gritted together, his jaw clenched in a way that made him look like he was not enjoying himself. She reached up to touch his face in curiosity and his eyes met hers.
She realized she could not tell what he was thinking. The contact was too intimate. She looked away.
"We can't keep doing this," she repeated.
"Because?"
"Because . . . because it's not good for you."
"Sweetheart, believe me, it is very good for me."
"No, I mean it won't be good for you."
"As long as you don't tell me to stop it will shortly be very, very good for me. Hopefully not too shortly. Hopefully not inside you." He closed his eyes and pursed his mouth, a frown between his brows.
"What?"
"What could possibly not be good for me about this? You'd have to be crazy to think that."
"No I mean . . . it's not enough."
"Sweetheart, I can give you more. You can have as much as you want. I can give it to you forever."
"That's just it. I don't want forever. I haven't got that to give."
"What?" Now he slowed, came to a stop inside her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm just broken up from-"
"Don't. Don't say his name right now."
"I . . . okay. Um . . . I'm not really . . . I'm not in the market for . . ." It was so difficult to have this conversation with his face only inches from hers, his body pushed deep inside her, their breath mingling and no escape from his steadfast gaze. "I don't want a serious relationship right now."
He blinked at her, his eyes slid sideways for a moment and then returned. "Just sex then?" he asked calmly, pulling out slowly again so her concentration slid away.
"Yes. Or . . . no, not sex with you."
Now his eyebrows went up in faint surprise.
"Not sex with me?" he repeated, driving slowly back into her so she moaned.
"No," she said blankly.
"You want me to stop?"
"No."
"This doesn't make a lot of sense to me."
"I don't think it's a good idea for you and me to have sex together," she got out with a supreme effort. "I think I'm going to hurt you."
"Oh, I don't think that's very likely," he said in an offhand tone. "I'm fairly robust."
"Hurt your feelings."
"My feelings . . . my problem to deal with. You focus on getting over your . . . bad relationship. If that means doing me . . . then good. Great. We’ll do that."
She did not like it when he called her marriage a bad relationship. It was complicated and it had not exactly been a good relationship but it was not like she was some idiot who had put up with a straight-out bad relationship as if she could not do better. Her annoyance distracted her from the sensations of her body and what he was doing to it. She scowled up at him. "It wasn't a bad relationship."
He stared at her with an incredulous expression, like she was crazy. "What?"
"It wasn't that bad. I mean, it wasn't great but it wasn't terrible."
"Cheating sucks."
"I wasn't cheating. I thought we sorted that out."
"Not you," he said, looking puzzled.
Realization hit them both at the same moment.
"You didn't know," he said in horror.
"Dan was cheating on me?" she said, even more horrified and tripping straight into rage. "You knew Dan was cheating on me and you didn't tell me?" Her voice had gone up an octave and was still climbing. "You bastard!"
He obviously decided this would be a politic time to withdraw. "Felicity," he said, "wait, just listen."
"Oh. My. God!" She shoved him away with both hands on his chest, able to shift him only because he let her, rolled to the edge of the bed and off and scooped up her pants that were lay on the floor. She shoved her feet into them and pulled them up, spun to face him. "Get your clothes and get out!" she said, menace riding her tone.
"Listen, I didn't-"
"I'm calling the police," she said, seized her sweatshirt and ran out of the room. She went straight down the hallway in the dark and stopped in the kitchen, leaving the lights out so he would not find her easily. She picked up the phone and held it, not wanting to make the call if he would just leave, but not wanting to look at him or talk to him again, either. She was desperate to have him gone. She could not look at him and see that shared knowledge in his eyes.
Dan had cheated on her. Luke had known it. If he would not go she would ring the damned number.
"Felicity." His voice came nearer. "Felicity, I didn't know he was cheating until after that first night at the club, and then I just assumed you knew. I'd never keep his secret for him. Never in a million years. If I hadn't thought you knew I'd have told you. I just didn't say anything because I thought it would be hurtful to talk about. Felicity, please, can we just talk this over?"
Actually no, if she called the police on him that might harm his career. It would be stupid and selfish – an overreaction. Still she could not bear to face him, to look at the pity in his eyes, to face the fact he knew – he and how many other people? – knew Dan had been unfaithful to her. Had fooled her, betrayed her, thrown her away . . .
But that did not mean she would do Luke harm.
She put down the phone, pulled the sweatshirt over her head, grabbed her purse that stood on the counter, went out the back door and closed it quietly behind her. She considered just walking away but her feet were bare and she needed to be gone from the house for as long as it took for him to leave it too. The horizon was lightening and he would have work this morning. She only needed to be gone for a couple of hours, but not on foot.
She let herself into the garage, got into the car and pressed the garage door opener, started the car at the same time and locked its doors. Sure enough he heard the noise in the quiet of the Saturday dawn and came charging into the garage from the internal door, still naked, just in time to slap on the side of the car as she drove away. She pushed the button to close the garage door again and the sensor picked up even from the increasing distance. He only had a few seconds to stand naked on the curb glaring after her with his hands on his hips before he had to turn and scuttle back inside or be locked out of the house naked without his car keys where all the neighbors could see him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was a bad day.
Even with all the positive thinking in the world, even with the knowledge your marriage had neither satisfied you or fulfilled you – or in fact added much of anything to your life – even then the day you find out your husband cheated on you will always be a bad day.
The first thing she did when she got home – before showering or dressing for the day – was to ring the doctor she had seen for her fertility check-up. Although the doctor was not there on Saturday mornings, the clinic was open and the receptionist put her through to a nurse who was able to tell her – when she gritted her teeth and asked the question – that yes, looking at her files showed their battery of tests had included a check for sexually transmitted diseases and no, she did not have any.
She thanked the nurse curtly, hating she even had to ask the question, and rang off.
That had been her biggest worry, and the lifting of it was a small relief. Now she had only the humiliation of it all, aware out there was a group of
faceless people who knew Felicity King had foolishly trusted her husband. That and the hurt, that he had betrayed her.
She went and had her shower, and if there were tears on her face along with the shower spray, they washed down the drain and away.
When she was dressed she got a piece of paper and sat down at the table with a pen. Ruthlessly she enumerated Dan's offenses against her.
He could have given her an STD.
She put a line through it because he had not, but he had taken the risk nonetheless so it needed to be there.
He had broken their marriage vows
He had lied to her as many times as he needed to keep her ignorant about his infidelity
That was why he had been coming home so late this past year, she realized. There had not been more work. There had been another woman. Was it only one? It might have been more. If he would cheat on her once he could have cheated a dozen times.
Her stomach churned.
He had lied about his character. She would never have married him, never got involved at all if she knew he was the sort of man who would break his vows.
He had denied her sex and then had it with someone else. She looked down at those words written on the page. It felt wrong to write it when the idea of having sex with him now revolted her so completely. Still, it was an offense.
He had tricked her into staying in a broken marriage for years when she could have been free. Years of her life wasted on him.
She looked at the list and felt herself get hot with rage.
She picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.
"Hello?"
"Hi Tanya. Sorry to bother you so early. It's Lissa."
"Hello! It's not early. I've been up for hours. I've got the kids this weekend and there's no way you get a sleep in with those two around."
"Can you talk?"
"Sure, sure, I'll put a movie on for them. Hey, Max, Hannah, come here guys. Now Mommy's going to talk on the phone to Lissa for awhile so I want you to sit quietly. Yes, Max, I'll pour you some milk but you have to drink it in the kitchen and then come back here and sit down, okay?"
