Cheating to Survive (Fix It or Get Out) (27 page)

Heather pulled her T-shirt up over her breasts wishing she had the rest of her clothes so she could run. Talking about his wife was one thing, but now, another woman. She felt cheap and used.

“God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He rubbed his right eyebrow as if to scrub it off. “The next thing I knew, she was sitting in my lap and we were having sex on my chair. I went home, saw Robbie, felt instantly guilty. The next time I saw her I said we couldn’t do it again. It was a mistake.”

Heather moved her eyes down to the bottom of the bed where her feet were. “So what happened?”

“It was too late, our friendship had grown, the chemistry was already there. The yearning didn’t go away, it only intensified because I knew I couldn’t have that body in my hands again.

We started again, only it progressed, to use your own word. I enjoyed her company, she was a lot of fun.” Silvatri twisted on the bed a few inches and caught his expression in the mirror. “Then I crossed the line. I bought her gifts, took her out to romantic dinners, we even went away one weekend. I lied to my beautiful wife and told her I had a medical conference to attend. The girl told me she loved me, I fell in love with her too.”

Silvatri glanced away from the mirror and down at his hands in his lap. “This went on for a year. We called each other daily, texted, emailed.

One night I was reading an email from her. She sent me a long note saying she couldn’t live this way anymore, hopelessly in love and she wanted to be together permanently. No more long distance, strained relationship. I sat in front of the computer for fifteen minutes trying to think what to write. I loved them both, but my wife, my son…

My service called. A very dear, long time patient of mine just found out she had stage IV cancer. I spoke to her on the phone but she became hysterical. I was so distraught myself that I finally stood and paced around the kitchen while talking, trying to console her.

I must have been gone for at least a half hour, maybe longer. When I returned to my desk, my wife was sitting at the computer. I don’t know how long but long enough to have read the girl’s email and several others. A weeks’ worth perhaps.

My wife exploded. I begged her, told her I’d never leave her.” Silvatri punched his fist into the mattress. “She took Robbie the next morning and left. She moved in with her mother initially. I pleaded with her to come back, offered her the house. She refused to be near me or anything representing me.”

He placed his hand on Heather’s leg again. She let him this time. “Heather, I hurt my wife and son. He was only five, he didn’t understand. But the worst was the girl, I hurt her. I made her fall in love with me. I had to stop seeing her immediately. She had to quit her job in my office, I ruined her life, ruined four lives. I promised I would never do that again.

I understand I broke my wife’s heart and I deserved everything I got but after a year I couldn’t take it anymore. I know it’s selfish but I wanted to touch a woman again…know what it felt like to be wanted and touched. I’m sorry, I only wanted this to be sex between us. You’re married, you said you were unhappy and wanted an escape. I thought you wanted the same thing I wanted while you worked on your marriage. I didn’t know you were leaning toward divorce because you were having feelings for me.

The girl in my office was single, it was never fair to her what I did. Falling in love with her was wrong. I never meant to hurt her or you, Heather. I thought we were on the same page.” He smiled at her and patted her thigh.

“What is this then?” She motioned to the bed they sat on.

“This isn’t the same. I let my feelings grow with her, fell in love with her. That was wrong. This is nothing like that.”

“Nothing like that? You have absolutely no feelings for me?” She jumped out of bed, grabbed her clothes into one big pile, and thrust them back onto her body, not sure if they were even on correctly, then jerked her yoga pants over her left leg.

“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.” He grabbed her and pulled her next to him, one leg still without a pant. “It was wrong to cheat on my wife for any reason, but allowing it to go as far as I did was worse. Sex is one thing but the dinners, the gifts and cards, the long sentimental emails. Christ, we even snuck off for that long weekend together. I hurt my wife but I hurt her more. I had to stop speaking to her, completely. She lost her job. Do you know what that did to her?”

Was he still babbling about the girl? Heather was done. She tied the lace on her sneaker and refused to look at him. How could he sit there, go on about two other women, and not see the hurt she was feeling. Was she invisible? Did he really think that little of her? How could he sit there and think by explaining all of this it would all be okay?

“Heather, if your relationship’s not working, fix it or get out.”

Now he was giving her advice? She shook her head, she needed to run. Run away from him and everything, but where would she go? Not home, not now in this state. She grabbed her keys and looked over at him. Tears streamed down her face.

“Oh shit,” he said, finally noticing the effect on her. “I’m sorry Heather, I thought we were having fun. I only wanted sex from you.”

What an arrogant dick. How dare him. Catherine was right. Heather pushed the hair out of her face so he could have a good look at her anguish. “Goodbye,” she answered.

“No Heather, wait, please.” He locked onto her arm and stopped her. Tears rolled freely now, no need to hold back any longer. She was done, with everyone, and everything.

She unlocked his grip, pulled away and stepped back into the dresser. Silvatri’s own eyes welled up but she was unsure why. Was it because he hurt her too? Because he did have feelings for her but refused to admit it, even now? She took a long look at him and thought. No. Heather thought not. He had no feelings at all. Cold, egotistical ass. It was because he just realized he’d have to make friends with his right hand once again.

****

The itchy bedspread rubbed against Heather’s arms. Sprawled face down in front of her, he gazed out the window. She shifted on the bed and kicked off her sneakers. She reached forward to touch him and chills darted across her arms. She waved them off discreetly and leaned in to caress his back. Her finger twirled in naïve movements, feigning self-confidence. One finger ran down his spine, to the bottom of his sweatshirt and lifted it to reveal his black T-shirt underneath. She inhaled deep, her ribs tightened, eyes closed, while he continued to watch the car lights pass on the boulevard.

Heather attempted to raise the fabric and reveal his spiced flesh but the shirt did not budge. The clothing she tried to remove was his skin, the color of hot fudge. Alarmed, she leaned back, shuddered, unable to continue with this aberrant behavior. He sensed the break in her touch. Her mouth, wide-open, slammed shut as he rolled over to face her. Breaths quickened, she smiled to mask it, then he pulled her to him and she found herself side by side with Tyrell.

His hand outlined her face, as if touching it would make this real. It glided to her lower lip and her tongue welcomed a single finger. Drenched, it sailed past her neck, to her sweatshirt, unzipping the obstacle. Heather’s hand drifted to his heart, its vigorous pulsing soothed her, if only for a moment.

He tilted in and kissed her, his trembling identical to hers. He wrestled with his sweatshirt and removed it to reveal all that was foreign and puzzling. She gazed at him in awe, curiosity beckoned her and she aligned her hands over his chest. Her skin appeared flavorless next to his rich hue but he grabbed her shoulders and drew her in, tasting her pale skin with his insatiable mouth.

Any apprehension, replaced with confidence, he tore the yoga pants and T-shirt from her, making the contrast of their skin more pronounced. He unzipped his pants and her eyelids closed again. She bit down on his shoulder, terrified to look.

He entered her. Any quivering was camouflaged by his quick jabbing movements.

Heather’s eyes squeezed tight like on the roller coasters, afraid to experience the full enjoyment of it. To see the danger, knowing it could be wild, and that having the crap scared out of you might actually satisfy your deep hunger to feel. Feel something, anything.

She opened her eyes.

What the hell was she doing?

Chapter 41
Catherine

Catherine sat upon Mangle’s granite countertop. Naked. He clunked chunks of ice cubes into two tall glasses and dispensed water from the tap clear to the top.

“Why do you get to wear clothes while I sit here nude?” she asked.

“Are you questioning me, Catherine?”

“No I just—”

“I think you are. I don’t like when you question me.”

“Sorry, I’m just curious.”

“Curious?” he snorted. “I think you lack trust.”

“I trust you, but why can’t we both be nude?”

“You only grace me with your presence once a week. Make me wait and wait. I even beg you at times. I don’t like to beg. I don’t need to beg anyone, do you understand what I mean?”

She nodded understanding completely.

“If I’m lucky, you allow me a blowjob once a week in my car, which you complain about and make seem like a big ordeal after all I’ve done for you.”

“No, I—”

“Then when you do finally come over the first words out of your mouth are always ‘I have to leave in an hour’ or ‘I have to leave by nine.’” You make me feel rushed, like you can’t wait to leave.”

“No, I love being here.”

“Now, if I stood before you naked, there would be no barrier between us. I’d be more inclined to take you again.” He set the two glasses next to her. “But, you have to leave. You always have to leave, so I’m doing you a favor by placing a barrier of clothes between us, otherwise you’d be late arriving home and I’d have to hear it again.”

“But why can’t we both wear clothes then, and why must I always sit upon here like a sculpture?” As the words escaped her mouth, she flushed with dread.

His jaw clenched, he grasped the back of his neck, kneading it. He raised his chin high drew in a long breath and then released it before speaking. “Your first visit here, when you stepped into my garage to leave, do you remember what you said?”

She nodded.

“You said you hoped that you did not disappoint me, that you would be better next time, that you only wanted to please me. Do you remember that?”

Catherine nodded again.

“Well this pleases me. Seeing you naked on my counter top, legs spread apart, tits begging for more. I love the marks I leave all over your tits Catherine. I leave my mark on you so no one else can have you. Are you letting anyone else touch you?”

“No.” Her eyes widened. “Never, only you.”

“Good.”

“It’s just…cold in here.”

“I know. I intentionally turn off the heat.”

“What?”

“I enjoy seeing your dark nipples harden and stay that way the entire time you sit before me. Is that a problem?”

She shook her head.

“Good.”

“It’s just that I’m dripping all over your nice kitchen counter top. My thighs are all wet and sticky.” Hopefully he’d want her off his expensive granite now.

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have told me that Catherine.” He extended his hand between her legs and scooped up the creamy puddle. He let his fingers linger on his tongue.

He fetched an ice cube from one of the glasses and coasted it down her neck, pausing for a moment on both her nipples until it stung, then dragged it down between her legs. He grinned as he inserted it inside her. Catherine joggled.

“Don’t move,” he instructed.

“It’s too cold.”

He grabbed a second and inserted it. “Complain again and I’ll make it three.”

She shivered from the frosty air and the frigid temperature within her. Her trembling intensified as she tried desperately to sit still.

“I like the way your tits jiggle like that. Like you’re belly dancing.” He stuck his finger in her and whirled the cubes around. “Gyrate for me, like it’s my cock that’s inside you.”

Catherine arched her back, positioning both her hands behind her and thrust her hips up and down.

“I love how your tits fall to both sides of you when you lean all the way back. Can you do a backbend? We may need to experiment with a new position next time. Practice for me at home.”

She bit her lip from the frozen sensation, praying for the cubes to melt. The icy puddle beneath her bottom caused her to shudder violently, uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” he screamed. “Shake those tits, shake them hard for me. Harder. Whiplash!” He cackled. The maddening shrill made her nervous. He grabbed a third ice cube anyway and inserted it forcefully.

“Catherine I would take off my jeans right now and fuck you but you’re probably so numb you wouldn’t even feel me. And what fun would that be?”

“Take me,” she begged. She yearned for his warm penis to remove the agony.

“Oh, now you want me?’ I thought you had to leave?”

“Please.”

“No. You will know what it feels like to be so horny and crave something, yet be denied. You will not refuse me again, do you hear? You will be at my beck and call from now on.

“Yes, I promise, please.”

“Are you sure Catherine? I can find someone else.”

“No, please no.”

“You told me you were jealous when I spoke to that nurse Megan, perhaps she will please me more.”

“No, not her. Anybody but her.”

He stared right through her, as if contemplating. “You’ll give me a blow job on the vacant wing on Six East first thing in the morning? Let me squirt it in your face, ruin your precious makeup.”

“Yes.”

“Ha! You lie.”

“No I promise, I promise. Please.”

“Will you let me fuck you in the back of my car during your lunch hour?”

“Yes.”

He inserted a fourth one. “Let me suck on those tits on the top of the back stairwell by the roof entrance?”

“Yes, yes! No more, please.”

“Then why have you refused these requests in the past? Why now? I don’t believe you!”

“I was scared, but I can’t lose you, I want you. I’ll do whatever you ask. Don’t find someone else, I can be whatever you want. Your sex slave.”