“I need you,” I said. “Do you understand that?”
Her face, raw and open and honest, stared up at me. “Is this just sex? For you?” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
I took a step back from her, wounded. I motioned to the air between us. “This is not just sex. And it hasn’t been, even from the first time.” I paused for a beat. “For me.”
Something softened in her eyes, and she pulled me to her. She undid my pants quickly, almost desperately. My cock sprung free, and she stroked it between both of her hands while I fumbled with her long beaded gown. “Just unzip it.” She turned around, and I undid her dress; it cascaded in heavy waves to the floor. She stepped outside of it and put her back to the wall, spreading her legs for me. “I want you.”
I knelt before her, ripping my tuxedo jacket off. I took her delicate lace underwear and roughly shoved them to the side. Then I spread her legs a little more and kissed her cleft. She moaned and I circled her with my tongue, licking and sucking her clit.
“I need you inside me,” she said desperately, grinding down on my face. “I need your cock.” I sucked her harder, feeling her body bunch up and clench around me. She fisted her hands through my hair, and she came, hard and quick, crying out and shaking above me. I stood, my pants undone, and hitched my hard length against her slit. She was so wet, so ready for me, I started to get dizzy. “Do you want me?” I asked breathlessly against her ear.
In answer, she grabbed the tip of my cock and put it inside her. She looked up at me. “Fuck me, James. Please. I need to feel you inside me.”
I lifted her up a little and adjusted my hips so that I was pinning her against the wall. Then I slid all the way into her, all at once. Her tight body stretched around mine, and she cried out, a mixture of pain and relief in her voice. “That’s it, baby,” she said. “That’s what I wanted.” She leaned down and kissed me fiercely, and I pounded into her, my thrusts as ragged as the emotions inside me.
I entered her deeper and harder each time. She arched her back, and the underwear I’d pushed to the side chafed against me, driving me wild. I was blind inside of her, pounding, seeking my release urgently. I held her shoulders, pumping into her over and over, my hands scraping over her breasts, still encased in her lace bra. I was so close, so out of control.
I wanted to fill her with me.
“Oh my God,” she said, her body starting to quake and clench around me. “James.” Then she threw her head back and cried out loudly as she shattered. That pushed me over the edge; I clung to her and pounded into her desperately, exploding into her.
“Audrey,” I cried, clinging to her.
I set her down gently, both of us limp and shaky. I looked down and saw her face against my chest. Her eyes were shut tight.
“I love you,” she whispered against me. “I just want you to know that.” I could feel her shaking. I held her to me, just loving the feel of her body against mine, the joy her words brought.
“And James.”
“What, baby?” I asked, staring down at her gorgeous face, her eyes still scrunched up tight.
“I quit.”
Audrey
At the reception, I tried Jenny’s trick of thinking of it like a movie. If it was bad, she’d said, pretend you were watching it and that it was happening to someone else. If the movie took a turn for the worst and got really scary, just close your eyes, she said. Then it would be as if it never happened.
After James made love to me, and another powerful orgasm had wracked my body, I knew what I had to do. This is the part where the heroine tells the hero that she loves him, and they live happily ever after, I thought. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a movie. This was my life, and there wasn’t a happy ending in sight.
I closed my eyes tightly.
“I love you,” I whispered against James. “I just want you to know that.” He held me close as I shivered, pleasure mixed with misery pulsing through me.
“And James.” I wouldn’t look up. I kept my eyes closed, my face against his chest.
“What, baby?” he asked.
“I quit.”
I ran away after that, as quickly as I could, back to my apartment. But even though I was miles away from him now, I could still feel his hands on me. I could still imagine the feel of my face against his chest.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep the pain that encircled me at bay. I sat at my window and stared out. The morning broke, hazy and humid. The sun rose up over the sky, and still, I didn’t move. I thought I saw a limousine crawling down my street, but I might have imagined it. Limousines did not frequent my neighborhood.
In any event, I knew it wasn’t James. He was probably on the plane by now, on his way to the Bahamas. And I was here, in my run-down Southie apartment, where I would always be.
Because I knew now what I’d known last night. This was where I belonged. I didn’t belong to better. Between my mother and his, the opposition was too intense. The chasm between us too wide.
Because I loved him, I had to protect him.