“Yes. I wanted to please my parents. We went out for a year, and then we broke up. I didn’t think the sex was anything to write home about. Hence the question, what’s so special here?” She gestured to the TV.
“Nothing. It’s not special. Nothing about this is special. It’s fake. Obviously.” The words tasted foul in my mouth. More foul than even cheating.
“Faking is something I understand. In fact, it’s the only thing I understand when it comes to men.” She brought her legs up on the couch and faced me. “The year I spent with him, Cory, I did nothing but fake my orgasms. It was exhausting. What about you? Did you ever have to fake one, with men, I mean?”
We made a charming picture on the couch—legs folded up and both of us in pajamas. Throw in a couple of pigtails, and you’d have your usual girls’ night with boy gossip. Too bad the girl I was hanging out with was my girlfriend, and this felt more like an interrogation than a night to explore lesbian fantasies.
“I don’t want to think about men. I don’t care about them. Never have. Never will.” My tone softened in…reassurance? Don’t worry, Julia. So what if I fucked him. You’re still my number one.
Seconds ticked by, and I still stared at her. I knew she didn’t believe me. She never did, but she never questioned it either. Would she do it now?
I wanted her to.
Yeah, I really did. Oh God! I’ve fucking lost it.
The more she stared at me in silence, the more damning the guilt became. Was I finally turning into a…good person? You know, the ones who felt guilty about doing the wrong things.
Oh no. This was what James felt every day. Now I understood his conflict. It wasn’t a happy comprehension.
Why did I have to fuck a man? I was sure this could turn into an ego issue for a relationship like ours. What does a cock have that a strap-on doesn’t?
But how could I not have? He was…James. The broken superhero. So…tempting.
The moans on the TV escalated; the woman was about to come. My cheeks felt heated, and my heart pounded, calling me a cheater. Shut up.
I jerked up from my seat, and my recently abused pussy jolted in pain.
“What’s wrong?” Julia asked.
Don’t you know? I wanted to ask. Instead, I said, “Um, I think I’m going to go to bed.”
She came to her feet, too. Reaching out, she ran her fingers through my loose hair. I’d left it down and draped over one side of my shoulder because of the violent love—lust—bite James had given me earlier. It throbbed as she touched my hair.
“I know I told you this at the restaurant, but…I like your hair loose. You should wear it like that more often.”
On wooden legs, I walked toward the bedroom. It was confirmed. She knew. Why the fuck wasn’t she doing anything about it, then?
In the bed when I closed my eyes, I saw James’ face. I wondered what he was doing right now. Was the guilt eating at him, too?
****
James
Back at the cottage, I sat with Katie on the couch, watching a movie. My mind was jumbled, elsewhere, trapped in the events of the evening.
I gave in. I. Gave. In.
The exact thing I vowed never to do. Restless, I shifted on the couch, and I could have sworn I heard the blades and glass tinkling in my pocket. A sudden urge to cut myself ran through me, and I wanted Katie to go to sleep. I needed to purge. I had to or I would lose my mind.
I turned to Katie so I could ask her to go to sleep, but her wet cheeks knocked me in the gut. She was sniffling as tears and snot ran down her face. With my heart in my throat, I asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are you crying?”
“Daddy,” she whimpered and climbed on my lap, burrowing her face in my neck. The guilt I had been feeling over what happened with Madison was nothing compared to the agony I was feeling now.
“What…what happened, Katie? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Hiccupping, she answered, her voice muffled against my neck. “Daddy, what if they can never find Nemo? What if Nemo is gone forever?” Leaning back, she looked at me, as if I knew the answer to everything.
“Wh…who’s Nemo?”
She frowned, ready to shed more tears. “Nemo! The fish.” She twisted her little body and turned to the TV and pointed at it with her chubby finger. “Nemo’s lost, and Dory and his dad are trying to find him. What if they can’t? What if Nemo’s dead?”
Her confession made my body weak but heavy at the same time. “Sweetheart, it’s just a movie. I’m sure they’re going to find him.”
“Promise?”
Wiping her cheeks, I answered, “I promise. You’ll see.” Then the possibility of this movie not having a happy ending struck me. Shit. What if they really couldn’t find this Nemo fish? I squinted at the TV screen, hoping to remember if I had seen it before. I wanted to keep at least one promise to my daughter. It was Hollywood. A happy ending should be a guarantee.
“Daddy?” When I looked at her, she continued with lowered eyelashes, wiggling in my lap. “Do you think Mommy will get back soon?”
This was the moment I understood her fears. Katie was projecting what was happening in the movie to her own life. She was afraid of losing Nat.
I took her face in my hands and kissed her forehead. “Sweetheart, everything will be fine, okay? I’m here with you. I’m never leaving you alone.”
Katie nodded, her eyes filling with new tears. “Promise?”
My own eyes stung. “Promise.”
“Okay.” She threw herself in my arms and held on to me tight.
****
Hours later, I again found myself in the bathroom, naked and wet, staring down at the glass and several blades on the counter. But they appeared too tame, too unpolished. Then my eyes fell on the chef’s knife I had gotten from the kitchen. It had a broad blade, almost as big as my wrist. I ran the pad of my thumb over the sharp edge of the knife in soft strokes.
The abrasions made by Madison on my back throbbed. Her phantom weight pressed down on my hips, around my cock. Drowsiness spread over my muscles like syrup. I pressed the edge of my thumb over the knife, blood pooling in that area in a tiny circle. I pressed until the skin broke, a drop of crimson blood welling out, my body jerking with the sting.
My cock stiffened, and I saw Madison as I had left her, messy and ruined. Her thighs spread wide, calves dangling down the counter. I saw a peek of something running from her core, drops of something creamy and thick, slanting down the furrow between her thighs and ass. My heart dropped to my stomach when I recognized what it was. It was my cum. I had come inside her.
Fuck!
I heard Nat’s mocking laughter in my head. Poor, poor Madison. You’re trapping her the way you trapped me. You knew getting me pregnant was the only way I’d stay with you. Is that your plan with Madison, too?
I wanted her to go away. She had no reason to judge me. She had been cheating on me.
There were times, when I pictured her with Garrett, the man she had been secretly in love with. I pictured her smiling at him, laughing with him, and I wanted to destroy everything in anger.
Agonized, I pressed the knife at the same spot, plowing it deeper, causing blood to ooze out and travel down and around my thumb. I groaned. With pain or pleasure or both? I had no idea. They merged together.
Nat spoke again, Oh wait, maybe Madison’s trapping you. I wouldn’t put it past her, you know. You both are fucked up. You deserve each other.
A horrible thought occurred to me then. Was she having sex with Julia right now? I imagined Julia’s dainty fingers inside Madison, and I dry heaved into the sink.
What if Madison got pregnant?
I saw Madison laughing with Katie. Then I saw her disgusted, enraged at me for ruining her life. She blamed me as Nat had done.
Another child like Katie stared at me. It was a boy with gray eyes. And he was cutting his palm like me. But he was only a baby. How could he do that?
I was so confused. Things wheeled around in m
y head. My vision blurred. My throat was closing up.
My knees buckled, and the knife in my hand jarred. I cut a deep line down my thumb. My hips jerked, wanting to get inside Madison’s body. The blood was everywhere now. The blood. Madison. Nat. The unnamed boy. Pleasure. Pain. Anger. It was too much for a weak man like me.
I slashed a deep line on the side of my stomach. The blood flowed thick and fast. My cock throbbed. I had to touch it.
Letting go of the knife, I fisted my cock and gave my hips a thrust. Pleasure seeped into my skin, and I had to grip the sink with my bloody hand to keep my balance. The cut on my abdomen stretched and bloomed with my jerky movements, and another drop dripped across my stomach, down to my naked thighs. I heard Madison’s moan, but when I closed my eyes to picture her, I saw Madison look up at Julia, not me.
A tight pain cramped my shoulders and abdomen. I moved my cock in my hands. Up and down. Up and down. I squeezed my balls, dragged my nails across the skin. The sting made me grunt.
What was I doing? What was happening to me? I was incapable of stopping.
The blood dripped. Madison smirked. Nat mocked. The boy shredded his palm, smiling.
I was losing my mind.
In the midst of it all, I kept jerking my hand up and down my cock. The pleasure pooled in my lower abdomen along with the tingling heat that spanned my spine and my blood-smeared thighs. My cock erupted, spraying cum on the red-streaked sink and my shivering stomach.
My chest heaved, collapsing on itself, trying to draw breaths.
I didn’t know how much time had passed as I stood there, exhausted. Then the stillness of the night was shattered by Katie’s scream.
Chapter Thirteen
Madison
The next morning, I didn’t go on my run for the first time in four years. I’d shed enough tears last night, with Julia sleeping beside me, and I didn’t have the energy to go anywhere. I wanted to lie in bed and forget the world. Forget what happened yesterday.
My phone chimed and I retrieved it from the nightstand. There was a text from Lily saying that she reached her parents’ house safely. She had also sent me a photo of her and Lindsey in her new room. Despite myself, I grinned at their faces. Lily had a surly Lindsey in her arms, and she had the same puckered expression on her face as Lindsey. It was a cute pic and it hit me how much I missed Lily. And she’d only been gone a couple of days.
My restlessness returned as I heard Julia walking around in the kitchen. I put the phone back and somehow managed to stand up and go to her. This guilt business was slowing my body down. It felt heavy.
Julia was standing at the stove staring at the sizzling bacon. I hardly knew what I was doing when my feet moved. I walked toward her, and hearing me, she turned around. Her sleep-painted face and messy hair looked odd to me—I’d hardly ever seen her so…normal in the morning. By the time I came back from my run, she always looked put together.
Guilt surged but I shut it up and kissed Julia’s lips. I kissed her, never wanting to stop. Something very fucked up was going on inside my head and I didn’t want to think about it. Our hands wandered and groped, and I flipped her nightgown up. Coming to my knees, I set her panties aside and tongued her clit. She jerked but my hands on her thighs didn’t let her get away from me. I got to work then; I licked, flicked, tongued…anything to stop this guilt inside me. With every flick, I tried to push this ugly feeling away.
I’m a bad person, a villain. I shouldn’t feel stupid guilt.
I thought I’d succeeded when she came in my mouth, writhing and moaning. Until I stood before her and looked into her knowing eyes and slight smile.
She knew what I was doing.
“You didn’t go for your run,” she whispered.
“I didn’t feel like it.”
“Why not? You’ve never missed it in the four years I’ve known you.”
“I didn’t get the urge. I wanted to be here,” I told her.
“Did you?” Her eyes searched my face.
“Yes.”
This is where I belong, I wanted to add but didn’t. Julia’s finger circled my wet lips before she went off to the bedroom, leaving the burnt bacon behind.
****
At work, I was supposed to man the reception desk. I did. For a couple of hours.
Until I couldn’t.
Until the strange restlessness returned and I decided to fuck it. I was sure they would survive without me, maybe even thrive without my incompetence and unwillingness to work.
I stood at James’ door—this time, definitely stalking under the guise of housekeeping. What happened with Julia in the morning looped inside my head and I realized that I needed to see him. I had to—nothing was more important.
The longer the door went unanswered, the more agitated I became. I was about to bang on it when it swung open and I breathed in to calm myself.
A messy James stood at the door, his hair disheveled and glasses sitting crooked on his nose. What the hell had he been doing? He ran his fingers through the messy strands of his hair, pulling them away from his forehead. Hey! That was my job.
His eyes flicked over my long hair, hanging down the front on one side, covering up his bruise. His gray eyes felt intense and alive. This seemed exactly like the first time I had come to his cottage a week ago. It felt longer though. And like the last time, he stared at me and said nothing.
“Housekeeping.” I pointed at the laundry basket in my hand. He let me in but I couldn’t read his expression.
I got inside his dark and silent house. I knew Katie was taking a baking class that ran an hour—I knew he’d be alone for me to pounce on him. The place was, as usual, pristine. The drapes were shut except for the one on the kitchen window. Just as he shut the door, I set aside the laundry basket and faced him.
Looking around, I found his laptop and a stack of papers and magazines sitting on his kitchen counter.
“Cured cancer yet?” I asked.
He studied me for a beat, his eyes inscrutable, before he took his glasses off and scrubbed his face, as if tired. “That’s a very vague question, Madison. There are a hundred different types of cancers and not all of them are curable.”
“Yeah, yeah, Einstein. Just making conversation.” I held my hands up in surrender.
Despite himself, his lips twitched.
“You cleaned up,” I observed. My breath was picking up even though I tried to control myself.
He swallowed and gestured with his chin. “Laundry’s in there.” His voice had lost all polish. It was rough and low, threadbare with arousal.
He couldn’t move his eyes from me, nor I from him. Even turning around and walking away from him to his bedroom seemed like an impossibility.
Picking up the laundry basket, I did just that, throwing a little sway in my hips for him to follow me inside. I knew he would in any case but I wanted to make it irresistible.
His bed was made, sheets firm and crisp on the mattress and the covers folded. Fucking neat freak. It made me smile. I went straight to his laundry next to the bathroom door and bent down to transfer his clothes—a little too much and a little too seductively, thrusting my ass up in the air. Finishing the task, I whirled around to face him. He stood at the door, his fists clenched on his sides. I suppressed a smirk and sauntered up to him. His lips parted and he scowled.
“Is there anything else you want me to do for you?” I bit my lip for good measure. I would’ve fluttered my eyelids too if it wasn’t so cliché.
You know what, fuck cliché. I fluttered my eyelashes. It was cliché for a reason.
His chest touched mine when he breathed long and deep, as if straining himself to hold back. “We had unprotected sex yesterday.”
Did we? Oh yes, we did. That was a second for me. The first time was the price for my mom’s happiness. And before that, I’d always had protected sex even though I’d been on birth control. Teenage mommy was, indeed, a cliché and I had no intention of being one.
I probably s
hould be more upset about it. But I couldn’t imagine anything else with James. No, foul-tasting latex barriers weren’t for us. We were…kind of open that way, open and raw.
Shrugging, I said, “It’s not my fault you couldn’t control yourself around me.”
“It can’t happen again. I’m not taking any chances.”
I got closer to him and whispered, “You keep saying that.”
He was losing control. His breathing was erratic, his nostrils swelling with every puff of air. I was wet and vibrating with power. I could make him do anything right now. Break him, make him pant…steal his breath. Strangely, I didn’t want any of that. I wanted him to have the power so he could make me…submit to him.
But he took a step back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it can’t. I can’t afford to make mistakes when I’ve got a daughter to think about. I don’t trust you.”
I closed the distance between us again. “Trust me with what? You think I’ll trap you with a pregnancy scare? You know what, I should,” I mocked in a high-pitched voice, placing a hand on my stomach. “Oh look, James. I’m carrying your baby. Will you fucking marry me?”
He narrowed his eyes at me and growled, “I don’t know you. Not really. I don’t know if you’re even clean. Maybe you’ve done this a lot of times before. Maybe you cheat on Julia all the time. With men, with women.”
He was pissing me off now. I’d never heard him talk like this before. He was always so controlled, trying to do the right thing and be moral and you know, all that jazz. But not today.
“Yeah, you caught me. I’ve fucked every single guy in this town. That’s what I do. I fuck men because I can’t live without cock, or pussy, for that matter.” He flinched at my crass words. Fucking prude. “You’re just one of many. There’s nothing special about you. I won’t even remember you once you’re gone. In fact, I can leave right now and fuck someone else. Maybe that boating guy or that guard who stands at the entrance?”
I’d become hypersensitive now. I could hear the rush of my own blood, could see the desire swell, smell the musky heat radiating off his body.
A War Like Ours Page 17
