by Jamie Knight
“Oh, why was that?” I combed my fingers through her silky hair.
“I was kind of married.”
“Kind of?”
“Actually. Actually legally married. For five years. The divorce came through a couple months ago. This was the first time I've been out on a date in years or had sex in months.”
“Your ex didn't –”
“Not for the last year or so before it ended. I would almost beg him, but he would always come up with some excuse. Turned out he had a girl on the side. Some 19 year old he'd met online. I caught them in bed together. The last of several stabs in the heart. It's odd, really. I've never really heard of the death by a thousand cuts applied to a marriage before.”
“Why did you marry him?”
“Oh, he was charming at the beginning. Romantic and lovely, swept me off my feet. I was also 25 at the time and had been sheltered much of my life. I didn't know how to recognize a player when one crossed my path. My instincts are a lot better now. Five years in Hell will do that, I guess.”
I wasn't sure if it was how she meant it, but Shae very much made it sound like her marriage had been a mistake. Not only marrying that guy but getting married at all. Her ex could have been so bad he soured her on the entire idea of commitment. I had heard about that happening before.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that she might have been warning me. Maybe she didn't want anything beyond the physical. We clearly connected and the sex was great, as it turned out. Perhaps she wanted a Friends-With-Benefits arrangement. I really wasn't sure how I felt about that.
I sat bolt upright, carried along by the sheer force of my indecision.
“What's wrong?” Shae asked.
“Uh, nothing, I, um, have an early morning tomorrow, and my fish need to be fed,” I said, even Jeepers popping his little head up to see what was going on. Though it also could have also been the mention of fish.
“Oh, okay,” Shae said, sounding disappointed but not crushingly so.
I was confused about her needs, but I didn't want to hurt her. It was possible she never really expected me to stay overnight. I wasn't even sure that she wanted another night or date for that matter. An idea which made me even sadder.
Not having sex again I could live with, but not seeing her again would be difficult. We were so in tune with each other. I wanted countless dates as well as nights. Shae felt so good in every possible way.
Shae seemed to be testing the waters, seeing what things were like after her lousy marriage. I wasn't really sure what to do, but if it came down to it, I would prefer a purely physical relationship over no relationship at all. I could handle a fling. I had done it before, but that had mostly been in relationships in which I wasn't strongly attracted — that wasn't the case with Shae. If anything, I was more invested than I had ever been. It seemed weird after a single date, but I knew her before that. Given a choice, I would undoubtedly prefer both a proper, exclusive dating relationship as well as having the physical side. Call me greedy if you will.
Once I got home, I fed the fish I actually did have and changed into my running clothes. I had taken up running a few years ago. I found it a great way to clear my head, and I'd had some of my best ideas while doing it.
It was the first time I had done a run at night, but desperate times and all that. I just figured I would run a bit faster than usual and stick to my own block, running around the building enough times to feel the burn.
I took the stairs rather than the elevator, trying to get the adrenaline going before I started out. Most people listened to music while running. I preferred to hear what might be coming up behind me. You could never be too careful. Then again, I've also heard that any day above ground is a good day, which also had its merits.
My mind kept racing as I did laps around the block. The voice of reason in my head shouted that it wasn't possible to fall in love so quickly. The voice of experience countering that it should shut the hell up or get smacked in the mouth. It could get pretty heated up there.
It turned out that the run didn't help much. It just got me sweaty and cold, the debate raging in my head hot as ever. Limping into the bathroom, I stripped down to nothing and got into a warm shower, the soothing water quelling the internal debate though leaving me with thoughts of Shae.
Specifically, the memory of her legs open on the edge of her bed, inviting me to pleasure her. That thought wouldn’t leave my mind
Shae’s thighs were so shapely. Her skin was soft under my hands as I ran my fingers up and down her legs, before dropping to my knees and coming face to face with her delicate folds. I had brushed them gently, like flower petals, teasing them pink and watching her pussy open for me as her desire increased.
Leaning forward, I touched her with the very tip of my tongue, enough to taste the cleanness of her skin and the barest honey of her juices. That simple touch had caused Shae to moan. Her hips thrust forward a bit, begging me to go deeper. Using my thumb, I brushed over the hard bud of her clit. It tensed under my touch. I traced my tongue in a straight line up her folds, dipping into her pussy, but just barely.
She had gotten wetter under my efforts. Her juices glazed her skin, enough for me to lick off and taste her good. Her pussy was really sweet. I could feel the vibration as she moaned while I licked her, and the tension in her core increased.
My cock got rock-solid, just thinking about it. I tried to ignore it at first, but it got to the point that action was required. Doing my best to focus on happy thoughts, mainly featuring oral sex with Shae, I rubbed my dick, teasing my shaft, but that wasn’t enough.
I wanted Shae again so badly that I could barely hold back. Using a rough hand, I gripped my cock in a strangle-hold, pumping hard, moving my soft skin, and rubbing my palm over the head. None of this felt as good as Shae’s pussy. It was all I could do, though.
She had felt like warm velvet when I had thrust that first finger inside of her. It was tight, but I twirled a bit, pushing her open gently until I could fit another finger inside of her. Both of my knuckles rubbed on her interior walls, bumping over her g-spot until it quivered under my touch. Licking on her clit, I fucked her hard with my fingers, feeling her pussy tense around me, telling me how much she liked it.
Shae’s moans filled the room. As I remembered each murmur and wail, I pumped my straining dick. I wanted to put it into her again. Her body had clenched me so tight, even when it was just my fingers fucking her.
When she came the first time, it was awesome. Her thighs clamped onto my head, her pussy gripped my fingers, and her clit quivered under my tongue. All the motion caused her back to arch. Shae came so hard for me. Her whole body clamped down then released, pushing out a spray of juice into my face.
Remembering her pleasure sent me over the top. Gasping, I came. Unloading my dick in hard squirts that fell down to the shower floor. It was little relief. Nothing would feel as good as Shae. I needed her body again. I needed to be inside of her.
Chapter Five - Shae
It took a moment to catch my breath. I would be lying if I said it wasn't a shock. I was sure that things had been going really well, and we were connecting. Even Jeepers liked Chris, and my kitten didn't seem to like anyone. Aden joked that Jeepers was my guard cat.
Perhaps Chris just wanted sex or more of a Friends-With-Benefits situation, with reading and tea and the occasional, or even a regular, fuck. I was pretty sure I could handle that. I had already spent years tied to the same guy, who turned out to be a loser. I didn't think that would happen with Chris, but maybe it was better not to take the risk. Perhaps I wasn't really ready to get serious again, even if it was the best sex of my life. At least, that was what I told myself as I got ready for my next shift at work.
There was something about a twelve-hour shift at the ER that put things into perspective. Not only in terms of the pliability of labor laws but also what is seen as a real problem.
I zombie-walked back into the lobby of my building, notici
ng that there was mail in my box. I hauled it all out and relocked the box, planning on dealing with it all later, after I'd had some time to sleep.
That had been the plan up until I had spotted the letter from my mother. Her precise, looping handwriting unmistakable. The fact that she regularly used a pen with purple ink and scented all correspondence with lavender also dead giveaways.
It wouldn't be fair to say my mother was domineering. She never made anyone do anything that they didn't want to do. Not directly anyway, but when she made up her mind about something, the only real options were to go along with it or get out of the way. Even if she was absolutely wrong. Especially then.
It wasn't just a letter, though. That I might have been able to handle. But no, life is rarely that simple. Along with the letter, twelve pages at first glance, was an engraved invitation. That might sound like sarcasm, but no. It actually was an engraved invitation. One that cordially — actually the word used — invited me to the family reunion that mom had planned in our hometown in Virginia, despite everyone pretty much agreeing that it was a bad idea. Really the first thing any of us had agreed on in a good long while.
It wasn't that my family didn't like each other. We just didn't really have anything in common, so there wasn't much grounds for comparison or conversation. The only one I really got along with was Aden, and that was mostly through our shared amusement at the others. Particularly my silly little sister Sasha who had fucked off to Australia the first chance she got. We couldn't blame her for wanting to escape, but neither Aden nor I could think of anything more cliché. We didn't like cliché. If Martin Amis hadn't beaten us to it, by many years, we could have collaborated on a book called The War Against Cliché.
Suddenly feeling very awake, I found my phone in my coat pocket and went back to the couch, dialing mom's number. She answered on the second ring as was her custom.
“Hullo, dear!” she said brightly, her drawl a lot stronger than mine.
“Hi, ma,” I mumbled.
“Oh, dear.”
“What?”
“Aw, sorry, nothin'. It's just ya sound awful Yankee these days.”
“They won the war, you know.”
“But the skin of their goddamn teeth!”
“I know, ma. Listen, I got your lovely invitation and —”
“Ya'd love ta come, ah know, Junebug. It's just so excitin'!”
“I —”
“You know Chester's blood sugar level is actin' up again. He's been gettin' sicker lately. Just can't seem to accept that he's been diagnosed as a diabetic. Keeps sayin' he's been healthy his entire life.”
I knew what she was doing. It was a transparent ploy to get me to come to the reunion only with an extra bit of potential survivor's guilt thrown in. My mother didn't just give guilt trips. She ran the travel agency.
Cruel and underhanded as her tactics might have been, I couldn't deny that they worked like a running clock with fresh batteries. There was no way I wasn't going to the reunion to see my poor, ailing dad if what mom had said was true, or at least mostly right. She did have a tendency to exaggerate.
Thoroughly manipulated by one of the best and suddenly looking at an unwanted trip, I felt suddenly motived to try and figure out what was going on with Chris once and for all. If he did only want a physical relationship, I would cross that bridge when I came to it.
I knew full well that I shouldn't just show up at Sure Thing during the day, even if I was friends with or related to most of the people who worked there. I needed a cover story to get me in so I could talk to Chris — in his cubicle, if necessary.
Brewing a large pot of coffee, putting it into a mug first, I headed down to the car, a plan already evolving in my head.
“Are you trying to make me fat?” Camilla asked as I put the pastry bag down on the reception desk.
“Impossible,” Jinx Dalton, the copywriter, said, heading for the coffee machine.
“Just wait a couple months,” Camilla snapped, rubbing her baby bump.
“That's not fat, that's beautiful, growing life,” Jinx said, making Cammy both smile and blush at the same time.
“We still on for the ping-pong tournament?” Camilla asked him.
“You know it.”
“Ping-pong tournament?” I asked when she turned back to me.
“Office tradition. We break up into doubles teams, and the losers pay for the monthly office party.”
“Monthly office party?”
“There are also vintage arcade machines in the staff room.”
“You're kidding me.”
“Not a bit.”
“Prove it.”
“Follow me.”
Scooting out from behind the desk, Camilla made her way to the staff room, the baby weight still at a minimum. Knocking to make sure that no one else was in there, Camilla opened the door flicking on the light. There, along the far wall were three vintage arcade consoles.
“Well, blow me down.”
“Told ya. They're also set, so they don't need quarters.”
“Any openings?” I asked, only half kidding.
“Not that I know of.”
“Well, if you ever need an on-site nurse, give me a jingle, yeah?”
She shrugged. “It would be up to Cooper, he's the new manager, but sure.”
I laughed. “I don't suppose Chris is around.”
“Nice segue.”
“Thanks?”
“I'll go check,” Camilla said.
I followed her back to the reception desk, making sure to keep my distance in case she was miffed at me for asking her to sneak me in again.
Cammy flipped through some computer screens. “His schedule looks clear. You remember where he is?”
“Indeed, I do!” I said, setting off toward his cubicle.
I wasn't sure what I would say. I couldn't just come out and ask if Chris just wanted the nookie. If I started up with the relationship talk, I could scare him off entirely. Yes, he was willing to let me touch him, a lot as it turned out, but I still wasn't sure how comfortable he was and didn't want to force him into anything.
“Hey,” I said, coming up to the door-like opening.
Chris didn't even look up. I thought he was ignoring me at first, but then I saw why. He was in the middle of working on something and was still wearing headphones. Taking a risk, I went over and took out one of his earbuds. He jerked hard and turned as though he might jump on me. Though not in a good way.
“Hi,” I said, backing up a bit.
“Hi,” he said bluntly, not showing much emotion, “are you here to see Aden?”
“No, um, I'm here to see you.”
It was a lot harder than I thought it might be. It was a good idea on the way there, but I found myself quickly losing my nerve.
“Really?” he asked, without a bit of sarcasm.
His expression hadn't softened at all, but he started to gently stroke my arm with his fingertips. I could actually feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a tremor of joy running through me. I didn't know how, but Chris always seemed to know exactly how to touch me. Apparently, he felt the same if the growing bulge in his pants was anything to go by.
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice coming out almost like a gasp.
“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes, if you have time.”
I was just about to beg him to bend me over the desk and fuck me hard, damn the others when Aden showed up at the door.
“Did you get one of these?” he asked me.
I looked up and saw that he was holding the same kind of invitation I had gotten. My heart sank a bit.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to go?”
“I think so.”
“Aunt Diane talked you into it?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Well, according to my mom, Aunt Diane invited Ellis.”
“What
!?” At the mention of my ex-husband’s name, I sat down hard into one of Chris’ chairs. My mother had never accepted my divorce, and she was continually trying to get us remarried.
Aden rolled his eyes. “It is meant to be a surprise for you.”
“Damn right it is!” I snapped, feeling anger tighten in my chest.
“Not what I think she meant,” Aden said.
I wanted to cancel right then and there. It took me years to get away from that asshole, and I had no intention of being thrown back together with him. I would likely kick him in the crotch if I ever saw him again.
“On the other hand,” Aden continued, “Dixie is coming.”
“She's back from Europe?” I gasped.
“Yeah, apparently it wasn't a scam, she really is a master painter now.”
“No, shit.”
“Not a spec.”
That was a wrench in the works. I love my eccentric Grandma Dixie, the only other person in my circus of a family that I liked other than Aden. However, she was hardly ever around, always going off on some adventure or another. There were times that I wished I had half of her gumption.
Aden sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “You could hire an escort or something, have them pretend to be your fiancé, and protect you from your evil ex while you're there,” he suggested.
I laughed. “Yeah, I suppose, but that sounds crazy.”
“I'll do it,” Chris said, making us both turn and look at him.
“You will?”
“Sure.”
I did my best to contain my excitement. I wasn't sure how much Aden knew about what was going on with us, and I didn't want to spring it on him. On the upside, I wouldn't have to pretend to be attracted to my fake date.
“Great,” I said, doing my best to keep casual.
Aden smiled and left us to go back to his office. I keep my eyes on Chris and the determination on his face.
“We should go out and get our meet-cute story straight before the reunion,” he said, and I could see the planning going on in his head.
I thought about telling him that we had three weeks to get things in order but decided just to enjoy whatever time I could have with him.
