The Mistress Mistake

"You're lying to me, now! Something sure as shit is going on in that head of yours, and this isn't about being a gentleman. You're hiding something from me, and it's not fair! You can't have it both ways."

He shut his eyes and dropped his head, pulling completely away from her. She trembled in her seat as she watched him, and she couldn't control the tears that ran down her face.

When he didn't move from that position, she flicked the lock on the door, opened the car door and ran inside the apartment.

****

Since she'd just lived through the worst two and a half days of her life, Jessica was more than surprised she was actually enjoying herself on Saturday evening. The water park was fun, the rides were awesome. The frat guys were being hilarious, and even their dates, who were mostly sorority girls, were being nice to her.

She managed to push Connor from her mind except for five or six times an hour.

The only problem she was having was the fact that Anthony hadn't taken her 'platonic rule' seriously.

She was having a bit of a problem with him. He wanted to touch her. And she was trying not to be rude to him. He was cute, and he made her laugh, but damnit, she knew he had had an ulterior motive.

After the third time of slipping her hand from his after he'd caught it, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Play nice, Anthony. You promised you would." Jessica felt okay chastising him, because they were the last in line walking to get a Coke and none of their group could hear them.

"I want to play nice, Jessica . . . you're just not letting me," he quipped.

Anthony's comeback was accompanied with puppy-dog eyes and a single finger that he ran down the side of her body. She couldn't help herself, she smiled at him. "Well, stop it."

As she pulled away from him and followed after the group, her phone rang. Digging it out of her pocket, she felt a thrill when she saw Connor's number. She pressed the button and put the phone to her ear. "Hey."

"Hey. I'm watching you."

Jessica felt her nerves stretch and butterflies take flight as she glanced around. Just at that moment, Anthony caught up with her and looped his arm around her neck. A hissing noise came across the phone line, and she knew in that moment, for a fact, Connor was watching her.

"Shake him off. Now."

Jessica heard Connor's command, cut the call without replying, and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. She twisted her torso and ducked slightly, and Anthony's arm fell from around her neck. She continued walking and refused to look around again. Connor had to be somewhere behind them, so he could follow her more easily. And she knew he would.

Her phone rang five more times in the next two hours, each time when Anthony put his hands on her. Jessica thought about starting some shit just to piss Connor off, but she didn't want to play games with him. And she didn't want to have to deal with a confused Anthony. But she quit answering her phone. She just continued to shrug Anthony's hands off, and as she did it, she felt Connor everywhere.

Eventually, the evening came to an end. She convinced Anthony, once again, that she couldn't date him, and as easy-going as he was, he seemed to take it in stride.

When he dropped her off at her apartment, he didn't get out and she didn't invite him in. She jumped from his car, and he drove away.

She stood on the sidewalk that lead to her front door and looked at Connor's car in her parking space. How had he beaten her here? She wasn't surprised he was here, just completely confused as she'd been all evening.

Slowly, she walked up the path and let herself in the apartment. She was confused, she was angry, but most of all, she couldn't deny the feeling that had been rushing through her bloodstream with each and every one of his phone calls today.

Relief.

****

When she let herself into the apartment, Connor was sitting on her couch, hands behind his head, waiting for her. She glanced his way, but didn't stop because she hadn't figured out what she was going to say yet.

She moved from the living room and went through her bedroom, to her bathroom where she began taking out the gold studs in her ears. When she looked in the mirror, she saw his reflection, where he stood, leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. "Why aren't you at the wedding?"

"I didn't go."

Incredulous, she turned to face him. "You didn't go?"

"No, I didn't go."

"I don't understand."

"What is it that you don't understand, baby?"

"Connor! You said you were going, I worried--I cried. I've been crying for two and a half days."

Connor reached out for Jessica, the only thought in his head to comfort her . . . to comfort himself at the same time. She held herself an arm's length away from him, hesitating, pulling from him, and then, finally, let herself go into his arms. Thank God. He pressed his lips against her forehead and lifted her chin and wiped at an errant tear. Moving his lips to her ear, he wrapped her more tightly within his embrace. "I didn't go because you were so upset about it. I couldn't stand for you to be so upset--but I wasn't ready to admit that to you, so I didn't tell you. I'm sorry you worried, but at least it's not something you'll worry over anymore or hold against me forever. Because I didn't go."

"Forever?"

He heard the whispered word and bit her earlobe gently. "I can't imagine having to let you go, not today, not ever. I can't imagine having to go through what I went through today. Not willingly, not again. Seeing you with him, it almost killed me. But I took it, because I deserved it for putting you through so much shit."

Connor felt her trembling hand grip his arm and the feel of her grasping him, leaning her body into his, was his undoing. He'd meant for this moment to be a declaration of . . . a declaration. But it was quickly turning into something else, as pure need sizzled down his spine and hardened him completely. He had things he needed to say to her, things he needed for her to understand. But right now, he needed to sink inside of her. He needed to claim her, in the most primal way possible. He needed to feel her naked skin against his, feel the tight clasp of her body around his, to take the edge off the panic he'd felt earlier when he'd seen her laughing and happy with that dumb fuck frat punk.

As they stood in her bathroom doorway, he reached down between them and began to lift her shirt over her head. Her body stiffened again and anxiety jolted through him and landed in his stomach at both the denial he felt from her body and the one coming from her lips. "Connor, no, I don't think--"

He caught her off with a kiss on her lips, ready to do anything to make her forgive him and let him take her into his arms. "Jessica, please baby. I fucked up. I fucked up, bad. I promise I'll never put you through hell like that again." Her eyes clung to his, and he could see the waver in them. "I'm going to make this up to you, I swear to God. I'll never do anything to hurt you again. But I've got to touch you now. You've got to let me. I'll die right here and right now if you don't."

Her eyes flared, she exhaled deeply, and her torso relaxed against his. Gratification, swift and strong, bled through his system, as she let him to take the shirt away from her. Twisting the cups, he quickly released the front enclosure of her bra and her breasts spilled out. They were beautiful as always, but today they were beautiful in a different way, an added way. They were his, she was his, and he'd never willingly give them up.

He took the soft mounds in his hands and slid his thumbs over the pink tips until they pebbled for him. He heard the sweet sound of her gasping breath, and he lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth. He was impatient, and began a slow, but relentless move toward the bed, dragging her with him. When they reached the side of the bed, Connor moved his hands from her shoulders to the enclosure of her shorts, and with not as much patience as he'd have liked, unsnapped them and pushed them and her panties down her legs. "Step out of them."