Page 7 of Forsaken Vows

God. He was beautiful.

His wife, Janet, was older—I knew that. She was uptight and unfriendly to the women in the neighborhood. Like some older women get when they start to realize they’re the oldest in the room. He was too beautiful for her.

Looking at him caused something hot to uncurl low in my belly and spread until my body tingled.

“We should fuck. Get payback,” I blurted out.

The words came from nowhere and everywhere. Saying them out loud caused heat to bloom in my chest, my neck, between my legs. I stood, glass still in my hand, and crossed the space between us before I could second-guess myself. He didn’t move, not even and inch as I climbed into his lap, knees straddling his thighs, my skirt pulling tight around my hips.

He still didn’t touch me.

I leaned in to kiss him.

His hand came up fast to stop me, fingers wrapped around my jaw, holding me in place. His thumb pressed just under my chin.

“Oh, baby girl,” he said low, his voice deep and warm, like gravel under silk. “I would love nothing more than to ruin your little pussy right now just to watch your pretty ass come undone.”

His words changed my breathing patterns.

His lips brushed mine as he spoke.

Cream pooled out of me.I had no dignity left. But I didn't want to be anywhere else in the moment.

“But I can already tell… you’d regret it the second you came down from the high.”

His other hand slipped around my back and under my shirt, his fingers dragging slow, lazy circles across my skin. I could feel every groove, every ridge in them.

My breath caught.

“And you’d hate me. I don’t think I could take you hating me.”

I swallowed hard because I didn’t know what else to do. My skin pulsed under his hand. I should have moved. Should have laughed or cried or walked away.

But all I had for him was “Okay.” And that word barely made it out.

He didn’t push me away. So I sat there, in his lap. His hard dick pressed against the heat between my legs. I needed physical contact. Needed to feel wanted. Warm. Alive. I needed to feel something else but grief. This was enough.

After a beat, I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes.

“This house,” I said, voice still soft. “Is it yours?” I asked it like I hadn’t just crawled into his lap and stayed there. Was I drunk?

He nodded once. “Yeah. Bought it before the neighborhood blew up. I use it as an Airbnb.”

I nodded too.

We sat like that a while longer. His hand on my back. My weight in his lap. Both of us pretending this was normal.

Chapter 5- Sam

She asked me for a big, greasy hamburger. It was the least I could give her after blowing up her world. I ordered it on UberEats, and soon as it came, she ended up sitting cross-legged on my couch, devouring it like she hadn’t eaten in days. She ate messily and unselfconscious. There was ketchup smudged on the corner of her lips as she talked with her mouth full. I watched her quietly, not saying much, just letting her purge herself. She slurred her words a little, the whiskey still heavy on her tongue.

“You know,” she said, pausing to lick a drop of sauce off her thumb. She had the prettiest, plushest lips. I wanted to touch her mouth. Just trace the curve of the bow with my tongue.

I exhaled the thoughts quietly.

“Just a week ago, I begged him to fuck me. I actually begged him.” She laughed, but it was hollow, tinged with bitterness. “He said he didn’t have time. Probably because he was rushing off to fuck yours.”

I imagined her begging—voice shaky, trying to hold on to a man who didn’t even want what she was offering. Who didn’t deserve it, really. It made me want to punch her stupid-ass husband.

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