by Ana Balen
“Fuck, baby, but you always knew how to talk to me,” I smile.
“Fuck yeah, I did,” she tries to laugh, but her breath hitches when she sees just how hard I am.
“You ready, baby,” her eyes are transfixed on my hand as I start to jerk off. She always liked watching me pleasure myself while I had her on the bed doing nothing but laying there. She gives me a nod still not looking away from my dick. “Then grip the headboard, doll.”
When she’s done as I asked, I come over her and not giving her any time to prepare, I slam in, going all the way to the hilt.
“Fuck,” I hiss at the same time she moans. “So tight, I forgot how tight you are.” I’m not moving, but she’s doing what she said she would, her pussy walls are trying to choke my dick, squeeze every last drop of my cum. “Babe, you need to stop or this is going to end sooner than either of us wants it to,” I warn her.
“Fuck me raw, baby,” she counters, talking into my ear. I pull out slowly, then thrust back in in one swift and powerful thrust. After the third she commands, “More, Nick,” and I know just exactly what she wants. As my thrust become more and more brutal, I trail my hand over her skin right to her breast and squeeze her nipple.
“More, Nick,” she demands. Growling I put more power behind my plunges. So much, that the bed moves and suck the flesh of her neck into my mouth.
“Goddamnit, Nick, more,” she’s near on shouting in my ear. “Give back all the hurt I gave you for the last three years.” My control snaps and I take her tit, still squeezing the nipple of it, damn near tearing it off, and I bite the flesh, sucking it in my mouth.
“Yes, baby,” she whimpers and circles her legs around me right before her cunt has me in a vise like grip, her body shaking, her mouth open in silent scream as she comes. Still not releasing her tit from my mouth or her nipple between my fingers, I close my eyes and let go to the brilliant sensation, groaning as I come into her.
Trying to catch my breath, I release her tit from between my teeth and kiss the bruised flesh. Trailing my tongue to give the same soothing treatment to her nipple, I ask “You want me to get off you?”
“Try and I’ll kill you,” her hands go to my hair, her fingers scratching my head. “Hell, you can even fuck me with your limp dick.”
“My dick is not limp,” I growl and to prove it to her, I give another thrust.
“And it won’t be for a few more hours,” she says as I go across her chest to her other breast to give it some much needed attention.
I chuckle while thinking, one thing is for sure, my wife always did know how to talk to me.
*~*~*
Sorry I missed you today.
Hope you had a good one, but I need to talk to you tomorrow.
Good night, my love.
“Who’s that?” Claire asks not lifting her head away from my chest.
Ignoring the tight feel in my gut and throwing my phone on the nightstand, I push my hand into brown strands that are all over me. “Just Beth reminding me of tomorrow’s meeting.” The lie comes out of my mouth effortlessly.
“Mmmm…” Claire hums in response.
I don’t know what time it is, all I know is, I haven’t fucked a woman this many times or this hard in over four years. I’m whipped, needing to put some serious effort to catch my breath and I need some sleep, or I’ll never be able to function tomorrow.
“Fuck,” I say looking up the ceiling as I feel Claire’s hand going down my gut, her mouth closed around my nipple, sucking, and my cock hardening. We did everything Claire said we would do in the last hours.
She got my mouth, I fucked her tits, her ass, her face and her cunt. Not once giving a chance for my dick to go limp as she said. And I have no more energy left to move. “Doll, you’re gonna have to do all the work this time around, I’m whipped,” I warn.
She doesn’t say anything, just gives me a smile and then climbs on my dick and starts riding me giving me one hell of a show in the process.
Chapter Eight
Heather
“Are you trying to destroy my marriage?” Nick’s words are pure venom and like a broken glass are thrown at me with one intention only.
To hurt me.
To kill me.
To destroy me.
“What are you talking about?” I have no idea what’s going on. Why is he acting like this? Why does he want to hurt me so much?
“The text you sent me last night,” he snarls.
I lasted three days after I got the selfie with his son and last night, I sent him a text. I knew what I had to do, I was finally coming to terms with it. I just wanted to give him something sweet for the last time.
“Yeah, and?”
“It was too late to send it. I was already in bed. What if Claire picked up my phone and seen it? She even asked me who was texting me, but I managed to cover it up.” He runs his hand through his hair roughly, only for it to stop and fist it at the back of his head all the while his eyes are fixated on the papers across his desk.
I’ve never seen him like this. Sure, I’ve seen him angry, ready to tear someone up.
But, this… this fury he’s trying to contain, I’ve never seen.
I didn’t even know he’s capable of something like this.
When my silence is the only response I give him, he puts his hands on his hips and leans to me.
“Answer me,” he roars as he’s swipes his hand across his desk sending the papers and pens and whatnot to crash on the floor.
“I… I,” I can’t even form a simple sentence he’s scaring me that bad.
“I, I,” he repeats after me. Mocking me. Making fun of me. “I can’t believe you would be so stupid to send me a text that late in the evening. Did you not think at all of what could happen? Who could see it? Did you not think of repercussions at all?” He looks at me waiting for an answer. His hands planted on his hips, his chest expanding with each labored breath he takes. His once beautiful eyes, which used to look at me with nothing but love in them, are now looking at me like I’m repulsive.
“I don’t understand Nick,” I whisper taking a step back. And I don’t.
I don’t understand how my text could pull up this kind of reaction from him.
Better yet, how could his wife have been anywhere close to see it.
It was late, I knew he was probably in bed.
And he doesn’t share a room with her.
So, it could only be if he was with her.
If he was….
Oh, God.
It could only be if he was in bed with her.
“How could your wife see my text?” As soon as I voice my question, his face changes. I can actually see the anger draining out of it. And on its tail comes in the remorse. “Have you…? Was she…?” I can’t even finish my questions. I don’t want to know. I made my choice. Shifting from foot to foot, I look at the paper in my hand, trying to remind myself what I came in to do. Still, I need to know.
Only thing is, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to survive his answer.
“I’m sorry Heather,” the look on his face… God, he’s a picture of a tortured man.
“You’re sorry for what Nick?” I’m afraid of the answer even though I already know it. Already know what’s going to happen.
“I cheated on you last night, pretty girl,” he whispers. “I slept with Claire last night.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Nick. You didn’t cheat on me, you’re cheating with me.” Slowly, I put the paper in my hand on the desk and start rounding it, coming close to me. Like a hawk, he watches my every step. As I stand in front of him, his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow. Silently, without saying a single word, I go to my tiptoes and kiss him.
I kiss him for one last time, putting everything I have in me in this one kiss.
All my love for him.
All my dreams with him.
All of my what ifs.
All of me.
“And it stops now,” I say my eye
s still closed. I can’t bear to look at him because I know if I do, I wouldn’t go through with it. I wouldn’t be able to end it. I couldn’t break my own heart and leave him.
And I’m the one who has to do it. He’s visibly torn between the two of us, the two women in his life.
But only one can claim him.
“I love you baby. I love you with a fire that’s destroying me. And I’m sorry, but I can’t be that woman anymore.”
“What woman?” His hands are squeezing my waist. I don’t know if it’s to push me away or to pull me in.
“I can’t be your mistress anymore.” I turn away. “My resignation letter is on your desk, Sir.”
“Heather,” he calls, his voice full of regret.
Stopping I look over my shoulder at him. I know that the vision of his tortured face, his eyes full of tears, his hand pulling his hair and his Adam’s apple bobbing, is the one that will stay with me forever.
He doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at me, waiting.
For what, I don’t know. But I tell him the only thing that comes to mind.
“We’ve met too late, Nick,” I whisper. I don’t let my tears fall. I know if he sees them it’ll destroy him.
I turn back and start walking out of his life.
Every step I take walking away from him leaves me with a feeling like someone is tearing my muscles off my bones. My heart beats a mile a minute almost as if trying to beat its way out of my chest just so it could stay with him. And when I close the door behind me, with the sound of it, it gives one final powerful beat that pulses in my whole body. So powerful I feel it in my fingertips.
Then it stops.
It becomes just a muscle doing its job, pumping my blood away. Because I succeeded in what I thought was impossible.
I just killed myself while staying alive.
“Heather?” Beth calls after me.
I stay silent and just… disappear.
Chapter Nine
Nick
I close the door of my apartment trying to hear if there’s any sound coming from within. The soft click echoes in my ears sending a painful throb to my forehead.
“Come on, Nick. Get a grip,” I repeat the line I’ve been telling myself for three months now. Leaning up against the wall, I put the fingertips of my hands against my temples and give them a tight squeeze hoping it’ll do the trick and get me out of this pathetic state and chase the headache away, but I already know it won’t help.
Nothing does anymore.
Nothing, except alcohol. But I can’t spend my days being drunk, no matter how much I want to.
Three months ago, I made a decision and let the woman I love, the woman I crave walk out of the door and out of my life completely. How I thought I could live by that decision is something I can’t comprehend. Every second of every day I think about her, I need her, I crave her. My body actually hurts from how much I miss her. And it’s not fair to Claire either.
I said I would do anything in my power to repair the damage my actions did to our marriage, anything except coming clean and telling her everything because I don’t want to hurt her any more than I have. I can see that she still struggles. The guilt is written all over her face, and every time she looks at me, she flinches. I told her over and over she doesn’t need to feel guilt, that I’m the one who let her down not seeing she was going through something and that her brother and parents are using her. Still, she won’t listen to me.
So, we’re back at our normal daily routine of not talking. We spend it with our son, watching him grow and accomplish something new every day. She’s even becoming a mother I always wanted my son to have.
But, the two of us, we’re at the stalemate.
That is, until the night falls.
Every night, it’s almost like we try to tear each other apart.
One time, when I tried to take it slow and make love to my wife, suddenly a vision of Heather appeared in my mind. I didn’t know how to get it gone, so I let loose the reins of my control and fucked Claire.
I guess some would say there’s progress in our relationship. We’ve gone from roommates to fuckbuddies. Still, she deserved more.
I know I can’t have Heather back, not the way I used to or the way I want her. I just need to know she’s okay, she’s safe.
My every attempt at calling or finding her has come to a dead end. And it’s tearing me apart. She’s the victim of my poor decisions and I can’t even say I’m sorry to her.
“Nick,” Claire’s voice makes me turn my head. She’s in her jeans and t-shirt, something I hadn’t seen her in in a long time. She promised me that doctor Moore was helping her when I wanted her to find someone else, someone who had more credentials. Judging by how Claire looked and acted these last few months, coming to her old self with each passing day, it’s the truth.
She comes to me, her steps silent since she’s barefooted, something else she hasn’t done in a while, and takes my hand to lead me to the couch.
Putting the pressure on my shoulders she gets me to sit down and the moment my ass hits the seat, dreaded words come out of her mouth, “We need to talk.”
Last time she told them to me, my world spun out of control. I don’t say anything just nod my head for her to continue.
“It’s time, baby,” she whispers taking my hand back in hers.
“Time for what?” My voice is scratchy even to my ears.
“For you to get up off your ass and find her,” she says like I know what the hell is going on.
“Find who?”
“The woman that was in your office all those months ago,” hearing her say that, my gut clenches, my heart starts beating in my throat. “The woman you love.”
“Claire, doll…” I try to come up with some lie. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I was so careful not to let anything slip out.
“Don’t, Nick,” she cuts me off, her hand going to my face and cupping my cheek. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not dumb. And honestly, it’s okay. You deserve someone who loves you like she does, who looks at you the way she did.”
Goddamnit, what the fuck is happening here?
“What are you saying, Claire?”
“Baby, what I’m saying is,” she bends and kisses me. Breaking the kiss, she stands back up and, again, tilts my world upside down. “I want a divorce.”
End of episode two
Acknowledgments
I’m sitting here, same as with two previous books, in dead of the night, trying to write this.
There are so many names that are running through my mind now, hoping to list them all, so if I forgot somebody--- please forgive me and THANK YOU!
To my readers, this past six months have been so incredibly hard, but you stood by me. Your messages and love that kept pouring out of my inbox with each new ping was something I never dreamed of. I can’t form words of gratitude and appreciation for it. It’s what kept me going. Whenever I wanted to give up, a new ping would come, and I would get strength to carry on. I wish I could hug each and every one of you. All I can say is, THANK YOU!
Darlene Carroll, Martina Čerčinović Ivanuša, Zulfa Cupido and Tilly Broad, whenever I get a notification that has your name on it, my eyes fill with tears. I want to scream from happiness that I got to meet you (virtually). I thank God each and every day for you. The tags, the shares and everything you do means so much more than you could ever imagine. THANK YOU.
Carol Evans, you my friend, are a one of a kind. The support, the care and kindness that radiates from you (even via Messenger) is astonishing. My only hope is that I give just a little bit of it back. Saying thank you is simply not enough and would never be enough. But it’s all I got. So, THANK YOU!
Tracy, you put up with my brand of crazy and you deserve a medal for it. I could try and list all the reasons of what makes you so awesome, but that would only end up being a book of its own. I hope there are many years of our back and forth ahead of us. THANK YOU.
Sallyann Cole as
always you did a wonderful job of editing my words and didn’t even blink at my frantic behavior. You just took it in stride. THANK YOU for being my calm in the storm.
To my husband and son, you are the reasons I walk this Earth. As you sleep now, while I’m writing this (both of you lightly snoring, I guess it’s like father like son), with every breath you take I know how lucky I am. Sven, just hearing you say quietly in the morning, “Ana, it’s time to get up.” And then feeling your soft touch on some part of my body, makes my heart sigh in happiness. The coffee and breakfast that awaits me when I stumble down the stairs is a fuel to not my body, but my soul. Who knew that one Friday night twelve years ago would take us on this ride and I would be so lucky and get to love you and get your love. (I know I would never bet on us, but here we are!!) The support you give me, is unconditional and sometimes I wonder if I deserved it.
Šimun, all the words have no meaning (and you did get a letter in a book) when it comes to you. I’ll just say, I was born to be your mother, I was born to give you to Sven. And my life would be nothing without you.
To both of you, THANK YOU!
To each and every single person who reads this words, thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for reading my book.
Just,
HVALA!
About the Author
Ana Balen was born in Zagreb, Croatia, where she still lives with her husband, their son (read boss!) and the son’s pet rabbit named Shhh! (or some other gibberish that’s the favorite of their son for the day.) She spends her days driving her husband up the wall (when he can’t get her ass up from the bed in the mornings), reading and daydreaming, or following orders from a three-year old. In the hectic life she leads (and loves every second of it), she never thought about writing. But, then one day a name popped in her head, then, the snippets of things, and she sat down and started typing. Next thing, she wrote a book. And now, she’s trying to write another one .
