You Know I Love You: Book 1, You Know Me duet (You Are Mine 3)

by Willow Winters

  I rock my palm over her again and again, putting pressure on her swollen nub and feeling her cunt get hotter and wetter.

  “This is mine,” I whisper louder, not holding back the possession in my voice.

  A strangled moan fills the air. At first I don’t know if it’s from me or her, but the sweet cadence of her voice prolongs the sound of pleasure as her body writhes against mine. She’s so close.

  I tear the thin lace fabric of her panties off in one tug after ripping it with my thumb and watch her face as her eyes pop open. The gorgeous greens stare back at me with a mix of emotions, the overwhelming two being desire and vulnerability.

  I don’t give her the chance to second-guess this. This is how we’re meant to be. Together, raw and bared.

  I only release my grip on her to unzip my pants. The sound mixes with Kat’s heavy breathing.

  “Evan,” she says, whispering my name as if it’s a question.

  She wants me, although she knows we shouldn’t do this. Fuck, I know she’s going to question this. Maybe even regret it. But she just needs to feel me again; she needs this as much as I do.

  I press the head of my dick against her opening and slide myself through her slick folds, teasing her and watching as her eyes close tight. She squirms when I just barely touch her clit.

  So close.

  “Evan,” she whispers again and this time it’s a plea. One I can satisfy.

  In one swift stroke I slam into her all the way to the hilt, making her scream out.

  Her blunt nails dig into my shoulders as her body is forced against the wall and her head falls back.

  I kiss her throat ravenously, desperate to taste her, but not willing to mute the sounds of pleasure she’s making.

  My thrusts are primal, ruthless. I take from her over and over. Each time her back hits the wall, her whimpers get louder and louder.

  Her grip tightens as my balls draw up. My spine tingles with the need to release, but I need her to find hers with me. I’m desperate to feel her walls tighten around my cock. Desperate to feel her pulsing and lost in pleasure.

  The moment I think I can’t take any more, she gives me what I need. Screaming out my name as her orgasm rips through her body.

  “Fuck,” I groan into the crook of her neck. My dick pulses and I come hard, buried deep inside of her. My heart hammers hard and fast and refuses to stop as she clings to me for dear life. A cold sweat lines my skin. Her eyes are closed and her teeth are digging into her bottom lip when I finally look at her.

  “I love you, Kat,” I whisper as I pull away from her, finally breathing and starting to come down from the highest high.

  “I love …” Kat starts to reply, but she doesn’t finish. She doesn’t look me in the eyes.

  She’s so ashamed to love me, she can’t even say it back.

  Kat

  I don’t know what I’m more ashamed about as I carelessly toss the throw blanket over one arm of the sofa and force myself get up, still feeling the ache between my thighs.

  The fact that I fucked my husband.

  Or the fact that I then refused to go to bed with him.

  Not that I told him so much. I hid behind work and then snuck out here to the living room. I didn’t sleep on the sofa for more than a few hours. Maybe that’s all I’m entitled to for being so weak and falling right into his arms the moment he pulled me in.

  It’s like our union is a spiraling dark hole and I’m falling deeper and deeper, to the point where what I want and what I’m feeling don’t make sense and nothing adds up. Not that I could hold on to anything anyway; I’ve lost all control.

  I couldn’t possibly feel more pathetic at this point.

  Because I love him and hate myself for it.

  I glance at my phone on the dining room table as I make my way to the kitchen, the charging cord is in a tangled heap on the floor.

  I already know what Sue would say. She’d feel sorry for me for going back to the man who cheated on me. Her lips would purse in that way where it’s obvious she’s holding back some snarky remark.

  Pity and sorrow for the pathetic girl, clinging to an unfaithful man. Even the bitter thought echoes what I already know she’d say.

  The thing about love though is that it’s not a light switch. You can’t just turn it off. No matter how much you may want to, you can’t erase the memories and move on. Sue knows that much, she just chooses to forget that it’s not so easy.

  My head throbs and I’m not sure if it’s from the lack of sleep or the absence of caffeine. Even the faint sounds of city life from stories down are enough to make my temples pulse. I’ve felt more put together with a hangover than I do now. This is not the unfortunate side effect of too much cabernet last night. I wish it was only that.

  I groan as I rest against the wall of the living room and try to calm the headache. I close my eyes and feel the weight of all the stress from the last two weeks.

  I need aspirin or coffee. Or both. My heart sputters as I slowly walk up the stairs, knowing Evan’s lying in bed alone and that it was my choice.

  As I pass the office I remember last night and my thighs clench; I can still feel him inside of me. His warm lips on my neck, his rough hands on my body … it’s more than a memory, the act still lingers on my skin. He took from me. Relentlessly, possessively. Each step brings my body temperature higher and higher, yet my heart hurts more and more.

  Why won’t the pain just go away? Why can’t my head just shut the fuck up so I can pretend I’m okay for a single moment? Jules told me once I overthink everything. She was referring to some edits I gave her but still, the woman had a point.

  The bedroom door is open and as I walk through the door, I can’t take my eyes off the perfectly made bed. The cream and white comforter printed with black dahlias is pulled tight, looking pristine. A crease forms in the center of my forehead as I walk to the bathroom, listening to my heart beat with each step, but finding the bathroom empty. Evan wasn’t downstairs, I think as I open the medicine cabinet and silently grab a bottle of aspirin. He wasn’t downstairs, and he’s not up here.

  I swallow the pills without water, staring into the mirror as my heart clenches, the dark bags under my eyes looking significantly worse than yesterday morning. Did he even stay last night? Did he find me asleep on the sofa and decide to leave? It’s what I wanted, wasn’t it?

  The cabinet door slams shut; I give the push more force than I meant to, but I ignore it, striding quickly down to the kitchen, the baggy T-shirt flowing around my thighs as one sleeve slips down my shoulder.

  I just need coffee. Coffee will wake me, rid me of this headache and give me the energy I need to deal with this mess.

  It is such a chaotic mess; I’m not sure how it possibly got worse than it was. A mix of emotions and desires that thrashes me side to side like an unforgiving earthquake. The only thing certain is that I can’t stand on my own two feet. At least not without a cup of coffee.

  A sarcastic huff of a humorless laugh leaves me as I round the bottom of the stairs and head to the kitchen, a pitiful smile adorning my lips. Ask and you shall receive; I’m a spiteful self-fulfilling prophecy.

  All the plans I had are threatening to blow away like the stubborn seeds of a dandelion. Marriage, traveling, success and recognition. Then what? A small bump at my stomach cradled by his hand on top of mine.

  Using the wineglass from last night I left next to the sink, I fill it with water and pour it into the back of the coffee maker, remembering the days when having a child was on my mind. Back when my career was only a long shot of a dream, when my time was monopolized by Evan and we owned the world together. We could be and do anything we wanted.

  I slip a fresh coffee pod into the machine and turn it on as I remember how he’d hold my belly and plant a kiss there, just below my belly button, telling me what a wonderful mother I would be one day to his son.

  With my throat tight I admit one thing: we were fools. I knew this would never last. I kn
ew it back then. Just like I know it now.

  I bite the inside of my cheek and take in a heavy breath, slipping the ceramic mug with Rise and Shine scrolled on the side under the spigot to the coffee machine.

  My bare feet pad on the tiled kitchen floor as I open the fridge and search for the creamer, ignoring the old dreams and memories being dredged up. I stare longer than I should at the empty spot on the shelf. I can’t even remember to get creamer. My teeth grind back and forth and the throbbing comes back with a vengeance to my temples.

  I slam the fridge door shut as the coffee maker sputters to life. It’s quite something when you’ve fallen so hard that a mundane task like going to the grocery store is enough to push you over the edge. Maybe I’ve truly gone crazy.

  The creak of the front door opening is the last thing I need right now. The door closes softly, as if Evan didn’t want to wake me. I wipe under my eyes and push my hair out of my face as I lean against the wall with my arms crossed, waiting for him to make his way in here.

  I can’t explain why I feel guilty. It’s all I feel, like everything I’ve done is wrong and I’m the one to blame. Is this normal? I feel like this is what I deserve. Like somehow I’ve orchestrated all of this just so I could feel lonely and miserable. Maybe I had it too good and I decided I needed to go right back to the mental space where I used to feel like I was drowning.

  “Morning.” I hear Evan’s voice and the sound of a plastic bag crinkling before I see him.

  My lips part to tell him good morning, but then I catch sight of him.

  He looks tired, his scruff a little too grown out, his dark hair a little too long and a bit of darkness under his eyes. For the first time I’ve laid eyes on him, he looks older, more mature but still as handsome as ever.

  It all brings me to an abrupt halt. His jaw tenses as he rests the bag on the counter and then looks over his shoulder at me. “Did you sleep well?” he asks, barely looking at me before turning his attention to the corner cabinet and grabbing a mug for himself.

  “No,” I say, forcing out the word. “Evan …” I try to keep talking but my heart slams at the same time that Evan shuts the cabinet and turns around to face me. He leaves the stark white mug on the granite countertop where it clinks in protest, and I stare at it, rather than at him.

  I have to spend time away from him. That’s what I need. To get used to being alone again and stopping this back and forth.

  “I need you to leave,” I tell Evan evenly and then peek up at him. It hurts to say the words after last night. I should have said them before, but I was so tired and felt so alone. It was selfish to need him then. I used him in a way, but I won’t do it again. I won’t keep pretending.

  He shakes his head, not once or twice but continuously as if he’s in disbelief. Like I didn’t actually tell him that. He had to know it was going to come to this.

  “Last night—”

  “Was a mistake,” I say, cutting him off forcefully and my voice cracks. My chest feels tight and it’s harder to breathe, but I stand my ground.

  “We’re different people, Evan.” I try to say more but my words are stuck in my throat, threatening to choke me.

  “We’ve always been different, Kat. Always,” Evan says and his words come out hard. I can already hear him convincing me. I can already see myself falling right back into his arms because that’s where I feel so safe and so loved. But he can’t hold me forever.

  “I can’t do this, Evan,” I tell him honestly, feeling my heart break as I voice the words. It’s a slow break, one meant to be torturous.

  “Do what?” he asks me cautiously and it pisses me off. The plastic bag rustles as he reaches behind him, brushing against it and bracing himself against the counter.

  “This. I can’t.” I look him in the eyes even as mine water. I let the tears fall as my blood turns to ice, yet my skin heats.

  Evan takes a step toward me, my name falling from his lips as his arms open and spread wide.

  “If you won’t tell me the truth about what happened, you need to get out.”

  With his eyes still widening, he shakes his head, an apology from his subconscious before he has the chance to say the words himself.

  “Get out!” I yell at him, feeling the weakness threatening to consume me. Threatening to bring me right back to him. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you here.”

  “It’s going to be all right,” he says, attempting to calm me, that placating tone in his voice making me even angrier.

  “Well, it’s not now, and you need to get the fuck out,” I say and seethe. I fold my arms across my chest as I look him in the eyes and tell him again. “I need space, and that means you’re leaving.” This townhouse is in both our names, I’m more than aware of that and he could easily bring that up. He has a right to be here and part of me wishes he would fight me on that, but he doesn’t. He stares at the ground for a moment, his broad shoulders rising slowly with each heavy breath. My body shakes as he snatches his keys off the counter and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

  I try to convince myself as I move to the counter, bracing my hot palms on the cold granite and focusing on breathing. This is the worst it’s ever been between us. I know it’s the end of us. I can feel it deep down in my bones. Shattering my core.

  Out of the need to move, to do something and just go through the motions, I reach for the bag on the counter.

  It’s a mistake. Inside is a bottle of coffee creamer.

  It’s so stupid that something like this could shred me. That it can make me fall to the floor. That it can make me feel like I’ve made the worst decision of my life.

  That it makes me feel like I’m alone. And that it’s my fault for pushing Evan away.

  Evan

  It happened so slowly,

  So slowly I couldn’t see.

  She ruined me, damned me,

  And brought me to my knees.

  I can’t deny there was only one,

  Only her for me.

  One true love is a lie,

  But with her, it has to be.

  It’s odd how love was there right from the start and I didn’t even know it. Hindsight is twenty-twenty; I’ve made enough mistakes to know that. It doesn’t explain how I couldn’t see how obvious it was, right from the first night. Everything I did and said was different, everything I wanted changed.

  My old bedroom in my father’s house reminds me of all the times I spent here, but more than anything it reminds me of the last time I was in here. When I was crying like a bitch on my bed, burying my head into the pillow and refusing to accept that my mother was dying.

  The red plaid flannel sheets are tucked in tight. It feels like this room’s been frozen in time since I was here last. Kat fixed the sheets the same way when she made the bed the next morning. She held me all night. She let me cry and didn’t tell me to stop or tell me to do anything at all. She just loved me. Freely and for no good reason.

  I think she loved me from the very beginning, though. Looking back on it all, I know I had to have loved her right from the moment she stepped out of that car. The door shut with a click and my heart was finally in motion.

  I remember that first date we had a few days after we met. I could still feel the beat of the heavy music in the club pumping through my veins as I opened the door to my apartment on the edge of Brooklyn. I glanced over my shoulder to take a peek at her, knowing the alcohol was wearing off and what I wanted was more than obvious. Part of me expected her to back out of coming upstairs.

  I could tell she was surprised by how nice my place was. Maybe I can credit her curiosity for why she gathered up the nerve to follow my lead. There was a lot of remodeling going on in the city and I spent my money wisely, always have. Investing in properties is what my father did when he had the chance. I learned from him, but did it on a much larger scale.

  The second the door closed, my hands were all over her just like they had been in the taxi and in the club. We were drawn toward e
ach other.

  That’s why I think it was love. Lust is one thing. It comes and goes. The moment you’re filled and satisfied, disinterest takes its place. But that’s never been the case for us. There was always more. Even as we grew apart, it only made what could be that much more tempting.

  I turn the lights off in my bedroom as a distant siren drowns out the silence of the room and headlights from a passing car leave stripes of light moving through the small space.

  Again, I remember what we used to have. Who we used to be. The first night we spent together is all I can think about. The day she ruined me forever. And I didn’t even know it was happening.

  She wrapped those sweet lips of hers around my dick before I could stop her. We’d only just gotten inside and I was planning on moving a little slower. I would’ve skipped the foreplay and gone straight for what I wanted if I didn’t think she’d appreciate taking my time. When she dropped to her knees in front of me, taking me by surprise, I wasn’t going to tell her no.

  I was paralyzed as she dug her fingers into my thighs and sucked her way down my length. Her cheeks hollowed as she moaned and I swear I almost came just from the sight of her.

  My balls tightened as she pulled back, letting my dick pop out of her mouth and then licking the tip. Her tongue slid up my slit as she worked my shaft and then did it again. The sight of her on her knees and practically worshipping my cock is something I can never forget. It was the shock mostly, I think. A woman who was already too good for me. A woman who was probably slumming it, was on her knees devouring me and loving every second of it.

  My fingers speared through her hair as I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy it. Only for a moment, though. I wanted more of her and I was sure I only had the night.

  Time moved so slowly as I savored each second of her, wanting more and knowing I could have it, but not ready for it to end.

  She stared up at me, licking her lips and shaking her head when I tugged on her to come up and stop. Her lips were already swollen as she panted and then leaned forward. Ignoring me and taking what she wanted.