“Better keep my day job?” he asks sheepishly.
“Yes. In fact, get a second one.” I kiss him again, my hand running over the top of his bulge. I love the flirty, playful moments we have. We definitely haven’t experienced enough of those.
Planting small kisses, I reach down to undo his belt and realize I should have at least let him get that far before stopping him. I yank and turn the leather until he reaches down to help me. I slap his hands and he pulls back with a surprised smile.
“I thought you said I was in charge.”
He nods and lays back, chuckling as I fondle his buckle way too long before finally coaxing it into opening up. Crouching between his legs, I run my finger down his zipper, feeling him move and jump under my teasing touch. Locating the tab, I hold it up and lean over to grab it in my teeth. I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m really nervous; it will just look stupid or I’ll chip an incisor but I give it a try. It slides down nicely, a little jerky at spots but mostly in a fluid motion the way I imagined in my head.
“Oh my god, that was hot,” he says, his jaws clamped in arousal. “I’m not going to last much longer if you keep that up.”
“Better think other thoughts, big guy, because if you come before I do you’ll be the one getting spanked today,” I remark sternly.
“Mmm, that sounds lovely.” He lifts his hips so I can pull his pants and briefs all the way off and I see his urgent need, present and ready. I take him in my mouth, just the tip at first, then more of him as my hands go to work enlivening and enjoying him. I love everything about this man–his smell, his taste, the way I feel him grow when he’s inside my body.
“Seriously, I’m going to—”
“Shhh,” I soothe. Standing just long enough to strip myself, I return and straddle him placing my body directly over his engorged cock. I put him just in my opening, letting him feel my wetness and desire. He attempts to thrust into me but I keep my hand steady and allow only the smallest access.
A tense smile crosses his face and I wonder if he’s worried I’m just going to tease him and leave him, but he should know better than that. We are both way too far along to walk away from this now.
“How bad do you want it?” I say, inserting him just a little more. I can see he’s at the cross-section of pleasure and pain. It’s something I understand all too well. He taught it to me.
“I want it,” he whispers, barely able to talk, the huskiness of his voice driving me even farther into lust. Then he speaks clearly, never breaking eye contact. “I want you.”
Lowering my body on his shaft, I melt around him as he fills me in a way no one else has ever or will ever. I move my body up and down, feeling every luscious movement press against my channel and entice my escalating climax. Over and over I lift myself, slightly rotating my hips and plunging myself down. I love the ability to look down and see his face, eyes closed–pleasure obvious. My vision grows dim as the knot inside me tightens, ready to squeeze out all sensations except my anticipated spasming pleasure. My thighs burn with the upward thrusts. Breathless and struggling to maintain the pace to keep climbing, I feel myself starting to slow down.
Mark reaches out, holding my hips in his big strong hands, stopping my motion to give my worn out legs a rest, and pushes himself upward into me, pounding me through his own effort, hitting the right spot time after time, lifting me higher and higher until he gives one big hard thrust and I grip his member as my entire body rattles and flows with passion. A guttural cry springs forth from my lips loud enough to shatter glass and my entire being releases energy as I tremble on his cock, collapsing on that beautiful chest when I’m done.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close to him as we breathe together, the quiet rhythmic afterglow of satisfied souls. I nearly fall asleep in the warmth and security of the moment.
Then, from nowhere, the thought comes back.
Did he hold Valerie like this? My eyes pop open and I sigh. I love him, but I can’t get over the fact I am just a second string on a lovely violin.
Rising, I reach for my clothes and he can tell something isn’t right.
“I need to go,” I say revealing more sadness than I wanted my voice to display.
“I wish you’d stay. We need to make a plan.”
“You need a plan, or whatever you need,” I surrender. “I need to go. I need time, Mark. I know you and Valerie are done, but I’m not sure how to feel about it. I just need more time.”
“We don’t have time, Julia.” He rises and dresses quickly, his buttonless shirt hanging open. “We can put off the relationship part for a while, but we have less than a week before filing and we’re going to have to pull together to get the evidence we need.”
“It’s too much. It’s just too much. I don’t have a life made of parts. I just have one big lump of love-life-Lynx and it’s all too much for me to carry.”
“It’s also too much for you to lose,” he reminds quietly. I want to scream that I know that already, but I just nod. The anger and passion of the day have worn me through. I’m exhausted.
He walks me to the elevator and we wait wordless. When the door opens I step inside, leaving him in the hallway alone.
“Don’t call, don’t text, don’t write. If the deadline passes, it passes. But for now, just give me space.”
The door closes before he can say anything. It’s better that way.
Are you being irrational if you know you’re being irrational? I pull out of the parking lot. I know there is nothing between Mark and Valerie now, and yet I still can’t get the idea of them out of my head. How can I ever trust that he isn’t selling me out to her? I guess letting the transfer go through and giving up Lynx would reveal the truth. If he doesn’t want me after that, I’ll know it was all a lie. Am I willing to give up my life’s work just to find out?
I decide to stop by the hospital for my daily visit with Dad. It will take my mind off all this for a little while. He seems to be past waking so every day is another chance for me to hold his hand once more. How I wish he was still well. I know he could have guided me through this with his wisdom. Dad negotiated his way through situations with social skill as sharp and accurate as a surgeon’s blade. I’ve been hacking my way through this with a machete, and the scars are starting to show.
Walking down the hallway, getting adjusted to the antiseptic smell of the area, I notice the nurse practically jumping across the desk when she sees me. She walks quickly to try to catch me as I turn the corner. I beat her to the room and look in to discover Dad’s bed is raised, made and empty.