Page 45 of The Sound Of Us

Pepper jumps off the couch. I kick a new bone to her. She’s my queen and I, her humble servant, but even Pepper won’t break this moment.

Axel’s body vibrates. His whole body sings to me. A melody I understand inside the blaring silence of my inner world. Vibrations call to me from his throat, so I kiss him there, careful not to suck too hard. His heart beats too fast beneath my palm, so I kiss him there too, through his shirt. His abs dip when I slip my hand inside his shirt and so I run my hand over the muscles there before moving to grip his hips, pulling him to me.

My lips return to his. I listen to his body with my hands. Committing to memory every tremble, every groan vibrating in his throat. Every beat of his heart and the pacing of his breath.

This is the Axel I want. The one who wants something more than what he’d been given. The one who asks for more. Who demands it with his body.

He breaks the kiss and falls into my chest. My arms encircle him, holding him close. His chest moves with harsh breaths against mine. I’ll have to learn the difference between his breath of ecstasy and his breath of shame and fear.

My hand moves to his hair. Soft strands, impossible to hold. I stroke his short hair.

I can’t hear his words, but his body is speaking clearly. Axel wants this as much as I do.

Chapter 23

Axel

I’ll grow it out again for you.

The thought is a ton of bricks crashing down over me, burying me underneath a mountain of awful contradictions.

The desperation for this man’s touch and the betrayal of my vows.

The lack of guilt and the horror over that fact.

The sadness that I wouldn’t even be here if my marriage contained even one iota of happiness and safety, and then the inconceivable thought of never knowing the taste of Eli’s lips.

And now all I can think about is how sorry I am that I’d cut my hair. That I disappointed Eli. My need for his approval slices through me, the sharpened edges of a sword bringing the truth of what is happening into stark focus. I want him. I want him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.

Eli’s kisses are accompanied by the wet sounds emanating from between us. He can’t hear what we sound like together. He can’t hear my uncontrolled, lustful groans of encouragement, but he touches me as if he can hear. He hears what I’m asking for without words.

Eli holds me firmly in his arms. Close, so close there isn’t a sliver of space between our bodies.

I’ve never been held like this. I feel consumed. Absorbed into his very pores until every molecule contains both him and I.

Pepper barks, the sound crashing through this bubble. I startle and Eli lifts his head. I can’t get over how sexy his lips are after he’s been kissing me. After he’s been kissed… after I’ve kissed him. He stares at my lips and I wonder if he’s making the same observation. Does he like how my lips look after he’s kissed them swollen?

“Pepper’s barking,” I say.

Eli turns and pretends to scold Pepper by wagging his finger at her. I laugh when all she does is jump up, place her paws on his chest, and try to lick his face.

Then he takes out his phone and types. Where is your husband?

“He’s working overnight.”

Eli nods once and grabs my hand, dragging me to the kitchen. Pepper follows us and earns another bone to keep her quiet. If Eli keeps this up, I won’t be able to maintain Pepper’s newly acquired upper-class lifestyle. She settles under the table, happy.

Eli retrieves a bowl from the cupboard and sets it on the counter. I inspect the new kitchen while he dishes up food into the bowl.

He’s done a great job. It has that same rustic feel, but the new, updated appliances give it a modern look. The floor’s natural hardwood seems to have been given an updated shine too. Only the stove stands out. It looks so old but it works with the new design, somehow.

Eli catches me looking. He slips his phone out of his pocket and types. This stove belonged to my grandmother when she lived here, my father’s mother. And the piano too.

“I love old stuff,” I say. I want to ask him about his family, but I’m also scared of knowing too much about him.

Eli slides the bowl of spaghetti close to me and points to the chrome bar stool. I sit and he sits next to me. Close. I don’t hate how he sits so close.

“What about you?” I ask, pointing to the bowl.

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