Page 19 of Revive

“She thinks I need male company, which she hopes and prays turns into marriage and babies.”

“And you?”

“And me, what?”

“Do you need those things?”

“No woman is going to turn down a good dick every now and then.” I never say or do anything for shock value, but watching his expression every time I say something unexpected is entertaining. “But I’m not that girl.”

“What girl?”

“The one who needs to fill that void, or who has a five-year plan and has to cross everything off that checklist before she hits a certain age. I live every day the way I want because I can. Whether I’m alone in ten years’ time with five fur babies, or married to a man that loves me more than I ever expected, and wants to fill our house with a soccer team of children, it will be what only I wanted, and I’ll be happy.”

The space he needed earlier doesn’t seem to come into play as he pushes me back onto the car. Breathless and exposed from my little outburst, I struggle to regain my focus, but he uses it to swoop in and take control. He laces his fingers into mine, guiding my arms up above my head, the veil of pain and sadness that covered his eyes earlier has been lifted, replaced with nothing but unadulterated want and hunger. “I want to kiss you.”

My tongue peeks out in anticipation. “So, do it.”

“I can’t,” he says, a pained expression on his face. “I won’t want to stop.”

“Is that so?” I purr.

He pushes his pelvis into mine, his thick shaft pressing against his jeans, and into my stomach, answering my question. “I want to be able to give you that good dick you like every now and then, and I can’t do that with your mum waiting.”

“Right.” The reminder of my mum has me looking behind him, scanning my windows, and making sure we don’t have an audience.

“The minute she leaves,” he continues. “I want you to call me.”

“And then?”

My head falls back, and my eyes close as soft lips latch on to my collarbone. “Then we’re going to organise a time where it’s just you and me.” He talks in between kisses, gracing the length of my neck, and stopping just below my ear. “Then I’m going to show you exactly how it should’ve gone the second you said you wanted to fuck.” He nips at my earlobe and I fail, miserably at suppressing a loud moan, my imagination running wild at the visual he’s created. He pulls back, releasing me so he can cradle my face in between his hands. “Me and you, Crazy, we’re going to rewrite the weekend.”

6

Hendrix

As soon as I walk through my front door, every knot in my body loosens. The good and the bad rolling off, leaving me to be alone and uninterrupted with my thoughts. Heading straight to the fridge, I pull out a beer and waste no time seeking relief in the bottle. I sink into the couch, take my phone out of my pocket, and put my feet up on the coffee table, in no rush to get back to the real world.

The drive home was a video loop of the last few hours. Taylah. Sasha. Taylah. Sasha. And repeat. Everything seemed to be okay until Sasha and I were in close proximity, and I immediately got caught up in her bullshit. In those few minutes she spoke to me more than she had in months, the words missing their usual smokescreen of niceties and pretence, replaced with inquisition and accusations that she hasn’t had the right to in a very long time.

The possibility of finally moving on lit a fire within her that should’ve felt like victory, but all it did was ignite fury, disgusted with myself and how strong her hold on me has been. I’ve never dated long enough for anything to eventuate, my love and need for Sasha was always a reoccurring point of comparison. A standard that no one could meet. But today, for the first time in my life, I was able to see the other woman in the room, and I don’t know how to process it.

I hopped into the car, my mind a mess, resentful that Taylah was watching me unravel, and then I saw her swaying in her seat, and lip-syncing the words to whatever song was playing in her ears, and I realised she didn’t care, and I was grateful. The whole drive home she followed my lead, didn’t press me with questions or coax me for answers, and I found myself itching to lay my secrets at her feet. Before I knew it, I was pushing her back up on to the car, turned on by her unfaltering certainty, desperate to bury myself inside of her, wanting to drown in her strength and courage.

My dick perks up at the memory of Taylah pressed up against my car, and I take advantage of my first night in a silent and empty house. Freeing my hands, I raise my shirt, unbutton my jeans, and drag the zipper down. Pulling my cock out of my briefs, I arch my neck back, and I close my eyes; letting the last twenty-four hours spin like a carousel wheel in my mind. I make a fist around my shaft and drag my hand up and down, working myself up, as I think of all the ways I would’ve had Taylah if I accepted her advances.

My release builds from my head to my toes, and I stroke myself faster, chasing the rush. My balls tighten, and quick, and fast ropes of come spurt on to my stomach. My body shudders, as I sag into the couch sticky, and sated.

It’s not a solution to my problems, but it sure as fuck is a really good band-aid.

* * *

My phone ringsas I step out of my bedroom, fresh out of the shower. Sasha’s name flashes across my screen. Even though Jagger is around now to call me if Dakota needs something, old habits die hard, and I find myself answering the call. Pacing the length of my house, the uneasy feeling from earlier returns, my gut telling me I’m not ready for whatever bomb she’s about to drop.

Milliseconds of silence pass before I decide to rip off the band-aid. “Sasha, what is it?

“I told you at Jagger’s I’d call.”

“And I told you not to bother.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I feel the frustration within me switch from simmer to boil. “You asked me if Taylah and I were together, which I found out you’d already asked her, and we both gave you the same answer. So, what’s left to discuss.”

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