by Kara Hart
“You’re going to have to do more than that,” she says. “I don’t know Susan that well, but if I know anything about her, it’s that she’s a fighter. She’s someone who is willing to go down with the ship if she has to.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “So I’m going to have to find a way to make this beneficial for her. I just can’t figure it out just yet.”
“When do you have to start on the building codes?” she asks me.
“Two weeks,” I mutter.
“Then we have two weeks.” She smiles.
“You aren’t done with me? You’re not judging the shit out of me right now?” I ask.
“You made a mistake. You didn’t have any bad intent. You were just being stupid. If it did anything good for you, I think getting married has at least helped you become a stronger person. And if you ever have any doubts with me, I just hope you’d tell me,” she says.
“Doubts? Are you insane? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say, curling my hand around her waist. “Right now, I’m feeling pretty fucking lucky.”
“Me too.” She kisses my chest and breathes in my cologne. She makes a light sighing noise and smiles to herself.
But I can’t help but feel that there will be doubts someday. All relationships start in a hazy fuzz of love, but very rarely does that feeling last. She clutches onto me, sucking in every last ounce of warmth and comfort. She tucks her head into the nook of my shoulder and closes her eyes.
I’ll do whatever it takes. I just want this to last.
Emily
It all comes back in the morning. The feeling of being someone else’s. The understanding that everything will work out if we just try hard enough at it. That’s how I feel when I open my eyes and feel his arms around my chest.
“Good morning, baby,” he whispers. I get goose bumps, up and down my body. The sun shines through the window, across my face, and I stretch my body against its light.
“Morning,” I whisper, batting open my eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s eleven,” he laughs.
My heart skips a beat. “It’s what?! Eleven? Shit, we slept in. We have to go to the shop,” I say, jumping up from the couch.
“No, it’s fine. Hanson is holding down the shop right now. I told him I’d pay him overtime,” he says.
I stop and stand in front of him. “And you can afford that?”
“Not really.” He shrugs. “But I thought we could come up with a plan.”
“Last night. I forgot.” I yawn. “Listen, you’re the boss, but I’m not sure it’s a great idea to sell the company. I mean, what the hell are you going to do if you don’t have this job?”
He just climbs on top of my and pins me down. “Stay in bed with you,” he says.
I groan, but of course, I’m wet when he reaches down and touches me. I close my eyes and bit my lower lip slightly. “Ugh, you know I’d love that, but—”
“But what? It would be too much fun for you?” He kisses me. I taste him and reach up to kiss him one more time.
I pull away slowly and open my eyes again. Reality flushes back into my mind. “No. Well, yes, but you need income and I definitely need some too. So, I don’t know.”
“I’ll sell the house,” he says.
“Come on, Michael. The house? And live where? Here?” I ask him. When he just shrugs, I roll out of bed.
“No,” I laugh. “You’re not living here of all places.”
“Why not? It’s cozy here,” he says.
“Because we’re not at that level yet,” I protest. Hell no. I’m not ready to live with another man, yet.
He looks offended. So be it. Sometimes, you have to make it clear what the boundaries are. “Well, at least I know where you stand,” he says.
“It’s not that. I just want you to succeed. Trust me, I want Susan out of your life more than anybody else,” I say. “But I don’t know about this. This is your business. You made it right? You built it up?”
“I did.” He nods.
“Then don’t sell it. If you don’t want to make cabinets anymore, start building other things. I’m on board with whatever, but this is your namesake. Vanderbilt Carpentry. That’s you, not Susan,” I say.
I’m out of breath and exhausted from thinking about all of this, and I think he can tell. When he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bathroom, I reluctantly follow. He turns on the shower and looks at me. “You’re right. And I’ll figure this out. Right now, I just want to enjoy you,” he says.
The room heats up with steam. I drop my panties onto the floor and walk inside the shower. I turn and watch as he walks in behind me. “It’s us,” he says. “Just us.”
I nod my head and lower my body into the warm water. I feel the rush from the heat as I exhale. I feel his warm, strong hands grab around the thick of my ass. I push back and feel his face behind me. His tongue comes, smooth and undeniably just right. My mouth falls open and a rushed moan comes out, high pitched and piercing.
I reach around and grab the back of his head. I push him in deeper. His moves up and down, devouring me. He groans loudly and sucks on each lip. I grind my hip back and let myself fall into him once more. He pushes away and pins me against the wall. My palms fall flat against the tile. “Fuck,” I groan.
“Shh,” he whispers. He puts his palm over my mouth. I bite down against his skin. He holds me harder, closer, and is not letting go. I feel him slip inside of me, as the water rushes down across our bodies. He pushes in as deep as he can go. His abs are firm against my back. I’m filled with an instant rush of pleasure.
“You’re mine,” he whispers. He slightly unclasps his hand from around my mouth. I hold onto his wrist and feel all of his weight press against me.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“You’re such a sweet girl.” He smiles, thrusting harder.
There are no more words. There’s only action. Hands against the tiles, gripping at the grout, slipping downwards, amongst the dripping water and wetness all around us. He forces his hand over mine. Our fingers interlock, as if they were made for each other.
Muffled moans and the hollow air from the glass puncture our eardrums. I am so afraid of living. That much is true and it’s what I hate to admit. I’m afraid. I’m scared of getting hurt, of feeling broken, or worst of all, empty. To fill is to be empty, and I never want to feel that way again.
His legs tie around me. He holds me up. He fucks me, over and over again, teeth lightly dragging across my neck and shoulder. “Michael,” I moan. I don’t know what else there is besides this. Right here, within the plumes of steam, within his impenetrable strength. I lie against the wall, crushed by my emotions.
“Cum,” I whisper.
As if it was on command, he tightens his grip. The water rushes down on us, never letting up. His moaning grows deeper, stronger, and more tempting. Then I feel it. The pulsating waves shoot into my body. He nearly collapses, yet holds onto gravity somehow. I clutch against his waist and feel all his power slam into me one last time.
He falls back and comes to his senses. He stands behind me, just staring. “I love you,” he says. Then, out of nowhere, he falls to the floor.
Michael
There’s nothing like a good nap to settle the difference of your day. Except I’m not sure I even took a nap. When I wake up, I’m surrounded, not only by my ex-wife, but also by Lisa and Susan. “Wait,” I mutter, trying to jump up from the bed.
“Sit down, dammit,” Susan angrily replies. My chest feels numb. Shit, my whole body feels that way.
“What the fuck happened?” I ask.
Emily. I look up at her and she’s fucking gorgeous. “You slipped in the…” She turns her head toward Susan and cuts herself off.
Susan interjects, naturally. “You fell in her shower. Why you were over at a coworker’s home is beyond me,” she says.
I start to rectify the situation as best I can, but in my head, I know that
the truth is what is needed. I can’t run away from how I feel about this woman. “We had—”
“We had just picked up some materials and he hadn’t showered all day. I said he could use mine if he wanted to, while I was at the store. When I came back, I found him on the ground,” Emily says.
“It’s weird.” Susan sighs. “But I’m too tired and emotional to deal with this right now. You had us worried sick.”
“Well, shoot,” I whisper. I glance at Susan angrily for cussing in front of the kid, but it’s not like she hasn’t heard it come out of her mouth all her life. I mean, I guess I did it too. “Am I okay?”
“You slipped,” Susan repeats.
“Yeah, but he didn’t hit his head,” Emily says.
“So what the hell happened?” I ask everyone. “Can someone explain anything to me?”
Blank stares. A few shrugs. “You’re okay, Daddy,” Lisa whispers. She runs over and throws her arms around me.
“I know, baby. Daddy’s okay,” I tell her.
In fact, I do feel pretty fine. The only thing is that I don’t know how this could have happened. I’ve never blacked out before like that. After minutes of trying to come back to reality, the pieces start to connect. The shower. Her beautiful, gorgeous ass. Her soft, hourglass figure. All of those things come back into my vision and I can’t help but smile.
“Don’t smile,” Susan scoffs.
“I’m just really confused,” I mutter. “Seriously.”
“You should probably see a doctor,” Emily says. “But I think you’re just stressed out. There’s a lot coming up that you have to deal with.”
“Great. Why don’t you take him to the doctor’s then?” Susan says.
“I can if you want to…” Emily mutters back. I close my eyes, waiting for Susan to fire back with enough animosity to blow up a small country, but she doesn’t. Instead, she turns her head and takes a deep breath. She gathers her thoughts and picks up Lisa.
“I should go,” she says.
“I should get up,” I say, scratching my head. Emily helps me up, but I shrug it off and stand up. “I’m fine. Seriously. I don’t feel bad at all.”
“Next time, take him to a doctor, sweetie,” Susan says, before slamming the door.
I turn around and laugh. “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t laugh, Michael. I was freaking out. I thought you were having a heart attack or something,” she says, with heavy eyes. “I should of called 911.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. It wasn’t that bad. I feel okay. Trust me. Sorry, I guess I’m just surprised, myself. I didn’t expect to wake up with everyone around me like that,” I say.
“Susan.” She rolls her eyes. “I really hate that woman.”
“Yeah, well… she’s Susan.” I give a hard frown.
“She knows about us, I think,” she says.
“I think she has an inkling. It’s a good thing. Trust me,” I say.
She doesn’t, of course. But she takes my hand and we walk to her backyard. We open the door to the outside world and I sit down. “I should be at work,” she says.
“I guess. I’m sure Hanson has it taken care of,” I tell her.
Some time passes before I can figure out the right words to say. Here I am, a strong man, and I fucking passed out right after sex? Frankly, I’m embarrassed and don’t know how to approach the subject. “Was it good, at least?”
A faint smile forms around her mouth. “You’re a pig,” she laughs.
“Well, true.” I smile back.
“It was great.” She rolls her eyes.
“Must have been.” I shake my head.
“Don’t worry, you were all man. You probably passed out when you realized what you said right when you—” She trails off and bites her tongue, but the cat is already out of the bag.
“What?” I smile. “What did I say?”
The situation completely eludes me. What I remember are cut out pieces of scenes, like in a movie or something. I remember how she felt, how she tasted, how incredible she looked. I remember clawing at her skin, biting her ear and holding on for dear life. I don’t remember any words spoken. The images fall from my head and I’m left, grasping at straws.
“You don’t remember? Seriously?” she asks me.
“No, am I supposed to? I passed out,” I say. I rest my head and close my eyes again. “Shit, everything is crazy right now. Isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she nods her head. “I guess it’s crazy to love a girl like me, huh?”
“What’re you talking about?”
She puts her legs around my waist and rubs her hands against my chest. She starts massaging me, making me feel like I’m hers. I start to let go and all the stress starts to slip away. “You told me you loved me,” she whispers.
My body tenses up for a split second. My eyes open and I’m staring at her, unable to say anything. How the hell could I forget something like that? I sit up and hold her balanced. “I did?” I ask.
She whispers, “Yes, Michael. It’s okay. I get it. You were in the moment. You got carried away.”
“Wait.” I grab her as she tries to slip away from my grasp. “Don’t do that.”
“I don’t want to talk about this. It seems like whenever we get somewhere, we always hit a roadblock. Maybe if we just, like, remain silent about things, we can finally be happy,” she says.
“I love you, Emily,” I say the words as if I’ve always known they were true. I love you. I never thought I’d be saying those words to anybody else, ever again. I thought I’d be a lonely carpenter, until I died, just waiting for the day I could watch my daughter walk down that aisle, or graduate from college, or have a child of her own. I never did things the right way. I thought she could. She could be the one to live a good life.
“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” she whispers. She’s damaged. I’m damaged. Fuck. We’re all damaged in this life, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have options to turn it all around.
“I mean it,” I say. I grab her waist and pull her closer. “I love you, Emily Carter.”
I wait for her to say it back. Her eyes dart from side to side. Does she believe me? Probably not. She’s dealt with a lot of hurt from her last boyfriend. Every single day he must have woken up and told her he loved her, right before telling her what he needed her to do that day.
She falls into my arms. Not a word is said. I don’t need her to say anything. Not yet, at least. I just need her to be here with me. I just need her to hold on a little longer, until we figure this all out. The trust will come. I have faith in this and faith in myself.
“Just see a doctor,” she whispers, shaking her head.
There are ways to get to where you want. Sometimes, all it takes is opening your eyes a bit wider and seeing what’s in front of your face. Other times, it’s falling on your ass and realizing just how much she’s worth. I feel it for the first time in forever. Love. I feel love.
Emily
My phone buzzes loudly on the desk near my bed. “Don’t answer it,” comes the voice of Michael, who has managed to sneak his way into my bed for the second night in a row. It’s hard to say no when a man as good looking as him tells you that he loves you.
I refrain from being loud and grab my phone, when he sounds like he’s asleep again. It’s five o’clock in the morning and I can’t help but wonder who could be calling me this early. I open my phone and adjust my eyes to the brightness of the screen. I click on “missed calls” and see it, the number I never thought I’d see again.
Dennis Aguilar. My tormenter. My nightmare. The one and only narcissist in my life. One missed call. No new voicemails. There is just the looming threat, the darkened cloud over my head. I have been found. Of course, I have. I guess I knew he’d find me sooner or later, but I just blocked the thought out of my head once I met Michael.
“Who was it?” Michael turns and looks at the screen, over my shoulder. I click the phone closed and remain calm.
“No o
ne. Just a random number,” I lie.
“Probably a debt collector or something. They always call in the morning,” he groans.
“I thought you were asleep,” I say.
“We have to get up in an hour for work. Now that I’m up, I might as well stay that way,” he says.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I sit up and look over at my phone again. The screen stares back at me. I feel such a sense of dread, unlike anything else I’ve experienced. All the pain I experienced is now going to come back in my life.
But when Michael puts his arms around my chest, I feel safe. For once, someone can be there for me, can protect me. I close my eyes and enjoy the moment. I just bathe in the moment. “You’re so strong,” I whisper. “It makes me feel good.”
“Are you scared?” he asks me.
“About what?” I start to wonder if he knows, but how could he?
“I don’t know. I just feel like you’re tense. Maybe it’s about us,” he says.
“It’s not,” I assure him. “Just, you know, we’ve been through a lot in the last few days. I’m actually excited we can tune out at work for a bit.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ve got a lot I need to take care of,” he says. He rolls out of bed, but not before grabbing my ass at least ten different times.
When he’s up, he’s as hard as a rock. He grabs his boxer briefs and I watch as he slides them over his shaft. “You’re a bastard,” I smile.
“The one and only,” he laughs.
We get dressed and drive over to work. The whole time, Michael is next to me. I feel my phone vibrate. I look up to see if he has noticed anything, but he hasn’t. He’s continuing with his work, just going over plans and glancing over at me every now and then. My heart is beating, black and porous. The darkness is creeping over me, inch by inch.
“I have to go upstairs and look over some things,” Michael says. “You guys good?”
“Of course,” I say, starting to sweat a little.
Hanson looks at him and gives a thumbs-up sign. “All good, boss.” He smiles.
