Page 34 of Trash the Dress

“It’s not okay by a long shot,” she says as she paces back and forth in the kitchen.

I reach out and stop her. She glances up at me, and staring into her eyes makes me wish so badly that I could love her. “Don’t stress over this. I’m sure they will come around, and if they don’t, my parents will just double their love and affection, I promise. You won’t be alone.”

She shocks me when she asks, “Are you saying you won’t be in my life anymore once the baby is born? Other than to co-parent? Like we won’t even be friends?” Her lower lip trembles and I do something I know I shouldn’t. I lean down and kiss her mouth.

She stiffens at first, but then relaxes into me and the kiss. It’s slow and gentle at first, but then deepens when she parts her lips to let her tongue taste mine. My mouth opens of it owns accord as I match her pace. Our tongues touch and caress. She tastes sweet like peaches, making me think back to her swiping on a light layer of lip gloss earlier.

I pull her closer, needing to feel her soft body against all my hard edges. She lets out a little moan and I can’t help but pick her up and set her on my kitchen counter. We break apart briefly but don’t speak. Her lips are swollen from my kiss and her eyes are glazed with desire.

I slide my hand behind her neck and pull her lips back to mine. I love the gasp she lets out when I press my erection to her center. Her legs are spread for me, and I remember how I fit perfectly between them. I trail kisses down her neck, and she begins to move against me.

“Zander,” she says as if out of breath.

“I’m about to…” She trails off as she grinds against me harder.

She has an orgasm right there on my kitchen counter while we are both still fully clothed. I’m so rock hard it’s painful.

When she comes down from her high and opens her eyes to look at me, she seems embarrassed. Her cheeks are pink, andher eyes search mine for a reaction. When I don’t say anything, she clears her throat.

“I um, I’m sorry. I don’t know why or how that happened. Things have been…extra lately,” she says, reminding me of the conversation I overheard between her and her friend last night.

“No worries. I need to take a shower and go to work for a while. Are you okay?” I ask.

Her eyes widen slightly as if surprised I’m running out after that. If I hadn’t been watching her intently, I wouldn’t have seen it.

“I’m fine. Um, do you want me to fix that for you?” she asks, her gaze pinging from my face to the erection I’m still sporting.

I take a step away from her, leaving her on the counter. “I’m good. I’ll probably be a while tonight. Do you want me to bring you anything to eat later?” I ask, easing toward the hall leading to my bedroom.

Her lips seem to press together as she watches me leave her there. “Sure, I guess,” she says.

I nod and disappear further down the hall. I’m still painfully hard when I get in the shower moments later. The little jerk refuses to yield to the cold water now pouring over my body. But I refuse to take care of it. I don’t deserve any relief after what I just did and allowed to happen. I can’t blur these lines and confuse her. But there was no way I could let her think I wouldn’t be in her life after the baby is born.

When I’m dressed and composed finally, I walk back into the kitchen to find it empty. A piece of paper catches my attention. I walk over and find her handwriting scrawled across it.

Going out for a bit. Need some air. Have a good night at work.

-Scar

I glance out the windows in time to see her turn out of my long driveway. Guilt, heavy as concrete, settles in my gut. I had no business messing with her head and letting her get off on me that way. Even if she’s the mother of my child, it was not right on my part. But my instinct was to comfort her and take away her pain by having her focus on me.

Just like the night we had sex. The problem is, you can’t make the world, or the past, go away with a single touch. But as I touch my lips and remember the feel of hers on mine, my thawing heart wants to argue—everything seems to disappear but her, with a simple glance, touch, or kiss.

Scarlett

When I leftZander’s house after that surprise orgasm, I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I knew I couldn’t stay there and witness his pity again. He kissed me because I’m pathetic. He didn’t do it because he wanted to. He saw me spiraling after the dumpster fire at my parents’ house and wanted to calm me down. Instead, he riled me up more than ever.

I was telling Anna yesterday about how aroused I’ve been. Then today, I dry humped my baby’s daddy on his kitchen counter fully clothed. What in the actual hell is wrong with me?

“It’s the hormones,” Leah says.

I glance at her across the table from me. When I decided to stop by Barnette’s B and B to see what availability they have in the coming months and if they offer any sort of weekly rates, Dr. Leah Barnette happened to be there talking with her sister and her husband. She shares ownership with her sister, but she doesn’t run it since she’s the police and fire department’spsychiatrist. She pops in to cover the desk some and help where needed in her free time.

I got lucky she was there. I needed someone to talk to who was objective. I wanted to call Anna, but I can’t burden her every time something doesn’t go my way. She’s partial to me, even though she doesn’t sugarcoat things. And I know she would’ve come running the moment she heard my voice. And while I love her for it, I refuse to do that to her.

Who could be more objective than a psychiatrist? Not too many, I’m sure. Now we’re eating dinner at a place called The Silver Note. It’s a beautiful restaurant and the food is delicious. It’s the perfect place for a date night.

“I guess,” I answer.

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