Chasing Love (Dark Love 1)

“I’ll be back,” I tell her. “I need to use the restroom.”

Inside the restroom, I shut the door behind me, unzipping my pants to pull my cock out. It’s throbbing. With every stroke comes pleasure. I close my eyes, remembering her standing in front of me, her chest exposed slightly in her dress, her tanned skin itching to be kissed, the trail leading to her full breasts. I try to remember what her nipples look like, how they felt in my mouth. The squeal she’d make when I tugged on them with my teeth.

Instantly, I blow all over my hand.

It isn’t taking me long these days.

Grabbing a wad of paper, I wipe my hand, then throw it down the toilet and flush. I give myself a moment to calm down before I zip my pants and head out of the stall to wash my hands. Just as I stand there at the basin, Julian walks in.

“So, did you enjoy your dance with Charlie? Just like old times, hey?”

His tone wreaks of jealousy but I fucking thrive on it.

“Just like old times. But, hey, you heard her, we were just high school kids back then,” I answer, playing dumb.

“But you weren’t in high school. If I remember correctly from my research, you graduated seven years before her. So, when you and Charlie dated, you were like, what, twenty-five? And she was eighteen?”

“What’s your point?”

“And you were married at the time. See, Lex, this is the thing… we always want what we can’t have.”

“I had her. What the fuck are you trying to say?”

He wants to play dirty, but he’s messing with the wrong guy.

“Exactly. You had her, but you couldn’t keep her.” He checks his face in the mirror, adjusting his bow tie at the same time. “Just remember who she’s with now and whose bed she’ll be in tonight.” With a cocky grin, he pushes the door open and leaves the restroom.

Leaning on the countertop for support, my knuckles turn white from the pressure. Gritting my teeth, I silence the profanities begging to be shouted inside the confinement of this room. The animosity toward him is like acid burning every single inch of me.

I stare into the mirror, nostrils flaring with a tight expression. If Charlotte is anything like she was back in high school, jealousy is the curse she was never able to break, and my desperation is willing to prey on her weakness.

Back inside the ballroom, I make my way to our table and lean into Brooke’s ear. “Time to call in a favor?”

She nods with a devilish smile, following me to the dance floor where I find us a spot in Charlotte’s view.

Charlotte is staring at me with a ray of mixed emotions. I lean in to kiss Brooke on the neck, closing my eyes, pretending to inhale her scent. My eyes slowly move up searching for Charlotte’s reaction.

Tormented, Charlotte lets go of Julian, walking swiftly toward the exit. I quickly excuse myself, assuming she’s running out of the ballroom. I spot her walking down the hall, flustered. Moving in at a faster pace, my grip tightens on her arm while I drag her into a small conference room.

Unable to control my emotions around her, I pace the floor between us, and we both yell at each other in frustration. Words carelessly leave our mouths, hurting each other to erase the guilt of the past. In the heat of the moment, her expression turns pained, and defensively she brings up Samantha again.

Watching her, my mind is out of control. I’m unable to fight the urge anymore, crushing my lips against hers.

The taste of her soft lips melts onto mine. Our tongues feverishly battle each other as I press her body into mine, keeping my tight grip, never wanting to let her go. She doesn’t push me away, so I take advantage by cupping her face, desperately releasing the built-up tension which has grown over our years apart.

Suddenly, she begins to resist. Refus

ing to allow her to give up on us, I trap her arms forcefully, willing we continue. Pressing my cock against her thigh, I ache to be inside her. I groan into her mouth, wanting her to know how much I need her.

My hand trails her cheekbone and slides down her neck, finding itself flat against the middle of her exposed chest. Just one move to the left or right, and I’ll have her in my hands. Her perfect tits are calling out to me, but it’s almost like she can read my mind. Finding her strength, she moans, then pushes me away.

As we struggle to catch our breath, she pleads with her eyes, shaking her head on the verge of tears.

“Lex, we can’t. Please, you don’t understand… I can’t go down this path again.”

No matter how many times I say it, it can never erase what happened. I apologize, telling her how much I regret my actions. She has to see that none of it was supposed to happen.

Charlotte Mason was meant to be my girl, my wife, all along.