Deep 6 (Multiple Love)

I cup my own pussy as the intense feelings spill through me all over again. The ache of the absence of his touch is just as painful now as it has ever been. It’s like a part of me was hacked away, but the memory of it is still fresh, maybe something like the way the body remembers an amputated limb.

Biting my lip, I close my eyes and try to focus on the here and now and what I need to do to get through; find my nightwear, clean my teeth, and wash my face. Get into bed and sleep. Wake up tomorrow and put one step in front of the other. Once I’ve listed it out, I start to tick off each task until I’m sliding into Tyler’s bed and inhaling the fresh lavender scent of his sheets. Staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, my mind wanders again. How many times has he lain here thinking about me? How many times has he touched himself in this bed, stroking the cock that used to be mine?

Has he had other women in this bed? Did he like them better than me?

Those last thoughts make me feel sick to my stomach.

Rolling onto my side, I pull out my cellphone and text Suzanne. I’m sure she’ll be asleep, but I know my sister will worry if she doesn’t hear from me after a long journey.

Wedding was good. All fine. Staying away for a couple of nights. Be back Tuesday. Kiss Sophie for me.

Then I set my phone to play the meditation music that soothes my mind into sleep on nights when I’m thinking too much.

It’s silent in the house when I wake and still very dark. Reaching for my phone, I see that the time reads 2:30 am. There’s a distant thud, and I wonder if that’s what woke me. My mouth is dry, and I have the beginnings of a headache coming, which is dangerous. The prospect of experiencing a full-blown migraine while I’m staying here isn’t a pleasant one.

I should get some water and take my pills. It’s the only way I have a chance of being okay in the morning.

Sliding out of Tyler’s bed feels strange. Opening the door into the corridor feels even stranger. There are six men sleeping in this house, and here I am, tiptoeing around like a thief in the night.

At the bottom of the stairs, I hear another thud and a low deep growl that quickly switches to something high-pitched and frantic. My feet carry me toward the sound that’s coming from the kitchen. Even in the dark, I see Tyler’s limbs writhing. His blanket is tangled around his legs and arms, and he seems to be struggling.

“NO,” he groans. “NO…JAKE.”

His face contorts, his eyes still tightly closed. It’s a nightmare…the kind that tortures from the inside out. I stand paralyzed, watching him fight, but the sounds he makes become pitiful, and I can’t take it anymore.

I drop to my knees beside him and rest my hand on his face. “Tyler,” I say firmly. “Tyler. It’s okay. It’s just a dream.”

His hand grabs my arm in the fastest reflex I’ve ever seen, and his eyes bolt open, flashing the color of a green tree snake in the darkness.

“It’s just a dream,” I say again, believing he’s awake, but he looks right through me. “JAKE,” he says again. “I’m sorry.”

“TYLER.” I’m firmer this time, using my other hand to touch his face. “Tyler. Wake up.”

He blinks, still holding me tightly enough to bring tears to my eyes. It takes him a few seconds to come to, and when he does, the first thing he does is to focus on the place we’re touching. My hand is released like it was molten against his skin, and then he closes his eyes, his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth.

“Tyler, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

“Not a fucking dream,” he says, and a tear leaks from his eye, running into the shell of his ear. It’s a crazy instinct to brush it away with my finger, the heat of his skin so intense against me that I let out a puff of air. His eyes find mine, and I’m locked in place. He seems to stare into me and through me all at the same time, searching for something intangible. At least, that’s what it feels like. My heart races like it always did in the moments before we kissed, with anticipation and desperation and a deep, deep connection. Before I say anything, his hand is in my hair, the brute force of him pulling my mouth to his.

The kiss is rough and unchoreographed, a clash of lips, teeth, and unfamiliarity. My heart pounds as my body primes for more. Tyler’s hands hold me firm, and I brace myself on his muscular chest, palms feeling the pounding of his heart beneath. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, and I whimper as a flash of our past passion blasts into my mind.