Complicated: A Tainted Love Novella (12 page)

“I can’t…I can’t do this right now.” I turn away from the person I once thought was my forever and I run. I’m not only running from him, but running from the truth – I need this man with my whole soul and I need to get away from him, create distance before I do something embarrassing; like beg him to take me back.

The next few days I feel on edge. I’d expected Marshall to try to jump me right after he told me what he’d told me outside Delilah’s hospital room. Instead, he’s been teasing me – not saying more than a few words to me, throwing me teasing, heated stares, and arousing me beyond measure with light brushes of my skin in passing. I swear it feels like I’m fifteen again and we’re engaging in a slow seduction. His avoidance of me is actually a little off-putting, though, a tad bit confusing. I just don’t know what to make of it.

It has been two weeks into Delilah’s recovery and she’s still in the hospital, driving everyone crazy with her silence. My madness, however, stems from my rising desire for Marshall. God help me, I want him. Bad. It has been two weeks since our last passionate encounter and, to be honest, I’m jonesing. We have never stayed this long without coupling while in the same proximity ever since we had sex for the very first time and it’s been slightly –
a lot
– unsettling.

Maybe he’s had his fill of me. Maybe he’s tired of me denying what we have. Whatever it is, I hope I’m wrong, because as frustrating as things are when I’m with him, I want that frustration and the passion that being with him elicits. I miss him and it doesn’t help that he and his parents have been staying with me in my apartment. Having him so close and not being able to have him the way I want him is making me cranky.

A few weeks ago, I knew everything, I had everything. I had my best friend, I had my boyfriend – who I hope gets raped by a man with a ten inch cock while he rots in prison – I had my job and great friends. I had my future ahead of me, but life stepped in. Life can take turns, sometimes. The worst of them are the blind turns, those unexpected ones where we don’t know what comes next. Those turns can turn our lives upside down, but…they can also be the most exhilarating.

Insert Marshall Keyes here.

I blow out a breath as I get my third cup of coffee for the day. I’m at work and I want to be anywhere but here. Forcing a smile while homeowners and potential homeowners walk in and out of the real estate office, where I’m the head receptionist, is not my idea of a good day. I’m tired because I haven’t been sleeping, restless each night thinking that Marshall will come into my room and ravage me, only to be disappointed…Every. Single. Time.

I should be happy that he’s keeping his distance, it’s what I wanted; but here I am moping because he’s ignoring me. I am a damn enigma, a confused woman who just needs to get laid. I wish Delilah was well. She’s my wing woman; she’d help to get me out of this slump for sure. No one knows dick the way Delilah knows dick, scratch that,
good
dick: she knows where to find it and what to do to get it. I wish I was a man-eater like she is; alas, every guy I have been with has been with the intention of something long term. As a result, I have only had three serious boyfriends, Marshall being the only constant.

I had tried to forget Marshall as I went through life without him, but it was damn near impossible when every guy was subject to a mental comparison to him. No one would measure up to him and it was sad that I couldn’t move on. He was funny, kind, considerate, caring, passionate, and a force to be reckoned with. No one else came close.

Delilah would always give me a hard time about it, saying if I was still hung up on him, I should just tell him and stop fucking around. I’d made her promise not to say a word to him and she didn’t; but she always told me that the ball was in my court; that Marshall would drop everything to be with me in a heartbeat. I could never stow my guilt, though, and it was one of the things holding me back. It always held me back.

Ugh. I need to go out and have fun, have some meaningless sex. Delilah might not be around to help me in my plight, but I have her second on speed dial. Simone knows how to have fun about as much as Lilah does. She tends to be a little more cautious while Lilah throws caution to the wind at times. I know Simone has been missing Delilah, so us meeting up and hanging out will serve two purposes: catching her up on Delilah’s recovery and getting me laid.

I pull out my cell phone to give her a ring, finding that I have a new message. My stomach flips with anticipation when I see it’s from Marshall.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder…and the pussy wetter. How’s urs?

Immediately, a gush of wetness spreads between my thighs, dampening my panties.
Oh, God
.

My hands shake at the blatant eroticism of his words.
What is he up to?
I decide to play his game.

I hear it also makes the cock harder
, I reply,
how’s urz?

Within seconds, Marshall responds:
I’ll show u mine if u show me urs.

My heart leaps and starts on a quick rhythm. Butterflies take flight in my belly and my pussy thumps at his text. Is he here? God, I fucking hope so.

Hmm, I do like me some show & tell!
is my response. As an afterthought, I add:
But if u show me, I promise not 2 tell.
I giggle at what I’ve typed out and hit send.

Already my mood has lifted and I am looking forward to whatever game Marshall is playing. It feels like old times – him away at college and me in high school, the only way to communicate: through text messaging. We had some fun times back then, getting each other worked up in 160 characters.

My cell phone chimes with an incoming message and I swipe the screen open, almost dropping it when I see that he’s sent me a picture of his bulge.
Sweet Jesus…

A teaser of sorts…now show me urz
, is the accompanying message.

I want to be risqué about this. Simply showing him my panties won’t do. I want him as crazy for me as I am for him, so I slip into the bathroom and lock the door, checking the stalls to ensure that I’m alone. Pulling my black pencil skirt up, I shift my panties to the side and find my wet folds. I feel a ripple of pleasure snake through my body when I dip a finger into my moist heat. Nipples beading tight, I realize that I haven’t even flicked my clit in the two weeks that Marshall and I haven’t fucked.

If this works, I might be remedying that very soon.

Taking a picture of my dripping wet finger, I hit send with the caption:

I’m leaking, I need u 2 come dry me up…

Corny, but I’m too far gone to care. I need this to drive his desire, and if I know Marshall, that picture will have made his already rock hard cock turn into granite.

Ur apartment, 10mins. I’m not fucking around anymore.

A smile of triumph paints my face as I imagine Marshall practically growling those words. I might not want to give in and be with him completely again, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy him. After two weeks, I’m finally gonna have Marshall inside me again. My core tightens and heat coils in my belly.

If I hurry up, I should be able to make it back to the apartment in eight minutes…

Marshall

T
hat picture. That fucking picture! Jesus Christ.

I’ve been hard since I woke up this morning. My parents and I have been staying at Rachel and Delilah’s apartment and it has been a constant struggle trying to stay away from Rae. Knowing she is a mere few feet from me every night, probably in some skimpy little outfit, maybe even nothing at all, makes me restless. I hardly sleep, having to physically restrain myself from going into her room and having her the way I want her.

But it’s more than because my parents are there with us, I’ve got something up my sleeve. Letting her know the score after the Dr. Douche encounter at the hospital, I had the masterful idea that I would avoid her. The immediate shift in gears must have her head spinning and her body calling, knowing I haven’t touched her in more than a week. I am trying to recreate our earlier years in a sense – flirty looks, heated brushes of skin in passing, a few shared words, and now texting.

That picture, though…

I never expected her to send me a picture of her wetness coating her fingers. I’d sent her the picture of my hard,
covered
cock from the bathroom and had been waiting for her to send me a similar picture. That way, I could have rubbed one out to take the edge off. I was sitting in Delilah’s hospital room keeping her company when she sent me that picture that had me groaning and sweating bullets. Mom and Dad had been speaking with Delilah’s doctor and Ben was consulting with the psychiatrist he’d gotten in to work with Delilah.

My sister had been treating us all to her freeze out; mad because she couldn’t get a hit of heroin. My groan and constant shifting caught her attention and for the first time in a week, she looked at me.

“Rae?” she’d whispered, and hearing her voice caused me – a grown fucking man – to tear up. I hadn’t heard her voice in so long. I’d heard her screaming, but that wasn’t her, that was the drugs.

I’d nodded and a faint smile brightened her face a fraction, before she nodded and turned her attention back to the nothingness outside her room window. I didn’t think she would say anything further until her small voice spoke.

“Handle that, Marsh,” she had advised, not looking at me, and that is exactly what I’d intended on doing.

Thankfully, Rachel’s apartment wasn’t far from the hospital so it took me seven minutes to make it there. I’d told Rae to meet me in ten minutes, but now I wish I’d told her seven minutes. I’m itching to be with her right now. My dick has not gone down since I saw that picture and now I’m wearing a hole in the floor as well as my pants, pacing in Rachel’s living room as I wait for her.

I check my watch again and tap it. Is this damn thing working? Only a few seconds have passed and it feels like an eternity. It must be broken. I knew I shouldn’t have bought this stupid Tag Hauer watch!

At exactly two minutes to the deadline, I hear the doorknob jiggling. As soon as the door bursts open, I close the distance and grab Rachel in through the door. Kicking it shut, I spin her into me and plant my lips on hers. She doesn’t wait; she thrusts her hands in my hair and pulls the strands, returning the intensity of my kiss.

Clothes start coming off and as soon as we’re naked, I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. I lead us to her bedroom and throw her down on the bed, taking in the woman below me. I love this woman with my every breath. How I managed to let her go is a mistake I will always live with. Never again. She needs to know that I’m done staying away from her, done being without her. This will be the moment things change between us.

I kiss my way down her body, every touch of my lips to her skin compelling gooseflesh to break out in its wake. Rachel is squirming above me, whimpering with want. As I reach her navel, I swirl my tongue into the sexy dip and drag my teeth across her stomach. Licking a path to her hip, I sink my teeth into her flesh and she moans. I open her legs, leaving bite marks on the inside of each of her thighs, loving the sight of the indents of my teeth.

“God, Marshall,” Rachel sighs in frustration. “Please, fuck me, suck my pussy…touch me.”

I look at the glistening opening between her legs where she is oozing desire for me. Bringing my face to her core, I lick up her wetness, drying her up as she’d requested in that text, only I’m making her wetter and it’s driving me crazy.

“You taste so fucking good, Rae,” I praise her. “Succulent like a peach.”

She gasps when I groan against her core and then sighs contentedly when I begin to suck on her clit. The first time I went down on her, she’d been so self-conscious, shaking like a leaf. As soon as I began sucking on her swollen clit, though, she lost all sense of reasoning. Her responsiveness to my touch always bowled me over. I am positive that no other man has ever made her feel this way.

Bringing a finger up, I trail it along her leg and then find her slick entrance, sinking it deep into her. I add a second finger and her back arches as she screams. Pistoning my fingers, I revel in the squishing of her pussy when I hit her g-spot. Her hands delve into my hair and instead of pulling as she usually does, she runs her fingers through the short tresses. The action is so tender, that I almost purr and rub my head into her touch.

I’ve always loved her hands on me. Her touch ignites something primal in me that no other ever has. Her touch sends my heart beating triple time. Her touch is serenity for me. It is kindling to a fire that is always burning whenever she’s around. I am centered and thrown off balance all at the same time when her hands are on me.

“Jesus, Marshall, that feels so…Jesus,” she groans, still pushing her fingers through my hair. “So fucking good, amazing.”

I flourish under her praises, my cock growing harder. Her voice is husky as her breathing increases in rapidity. All of a sudden, her fingers in my hair turn frantic and then she’s pulling on the roots and releasing. Pulling and releasing. Her thighs begin to quiver and her hips start a rotating rhythm, grinding against my face.

“Bite me, Marshall,” she commands, breathless and writhing. “Bite me.”

I let my tongue do a swift flicking over her clit while I pump my fingers hard and fast inside her sopping wet depth. Just as she tenses, I drag my teeth hard across her clit and then sink my teeth into her fleshy pussy and suck her engorged bud of nerves as she bursts apart in an orgasm. Rachel screams a guttural, cathartic version of my name, riding my face and prolonging her climax.

The taste of her is my undoing and I pull away from her delectable pussy needing to have her wrapped around my cock. She pulls me down to her and she licks my lips, tasting herself.

“See how fucking good you taste?” I smirk.

“Fucking delicious,” she agrees before planting her lips on mine and kissing me deeply. Our tongues clash and stars break out behind my lids at its intensity. She makes me insatiable, unraveling me like loose thread.

Settling myself between her legs, my hard as steel cock pressing up against her wet center, I slow the kiss down wanting to savor her. Her hands come up and caress my face and when I pull away to stare down at her beautiful face, she’s staring at me with an expression of awe. I’ve missed that look on her face. The look that says: I’m all yours.

It’s complete and utter trust and surrender, but I want more than a surrender of her body. I want her to surrender her heart to me. I want all of her, even the parts that she’s hid from me. I want to unlock her deepest desires and her darkest secrets. I want to be it for her.

With a thrust that makes us one, I enter into Rachel’s tight warmth. She is drenched, welcoming me easily. She gasps, throwing her head back and exposing her neck. I lick and suck her exposed throat, making her squirm beneath me. Her pussy clamps down on me and I groan, feeling pleasure tingle up my spine. Sinking myself deeper, I start on a hard rhythm. Thrust after hard thrust has Rachel keening beneath me, moaning and screaming, mangling her bottom lip trying to stave off the building pressure. Her face is red with arousal, sweat misting her skin, her breaths coming out in quick labored bursts. Her beauty is radiant in the throes of ecstasy and I am glad that I can still give it to her this way; that she still responds to me in this fashion.

“You don’t know what you do to me, Rae,” I rasp as I surge forward, my thighs smacking against the backs of hers.

“M-Marshall,” she whispers, as though she has to say my name; as if my name is the answer to some silent question in her mind. Lord knows she’s the answer to mine.

“Yes, Rachel, feel me,” I encourage her, rotating my hips to touch her g-spot in a deeper way. “You see how hard I am for you? Only for you.”

And it’s true. Never have I ever been this aroused. It has always been this intense with her. I always feel like I am a second away from ravishing her. She brings out the animal in me and, as always, she is my prey.

She takes everything I give her, meeting me thrust for thrust. Our eyes meet and the current that passes between us is undeniable. This is a game changer. I see the fear in her eyes and that’s the point when I know she knows. This won’t just be a quick fuck until the need arises again, this will be forever. I’m going to fight and I won’t stop fighting until she’s mine again.

A tear slips out of the corner of her eye but we don’t break eye contact. The orgasm that I know is coming begins a slow creep up my spine. Tingles shoot up from my balls and make my cock swell imperceptibly. Rachel’s core tightens and she holds her breath, digging her nails into my back and ass. The power of our climax rips through us and we both close our eyes to welcome its intensity. Sinking my teeth into her shoulder, she does the same to me – biting hard enough to break my skin – and we fall apart together.

The splinters of our universe orbit around us as we shout out our release, shaking and muttering worshipful words to each other. I need to make her understand. I need her to know that we need to be together.

“Rachel, please,” I plead. How do I get her to see that this is right, that we’re meant to be?

No one else has ever made me feel the way I do when I’m with her: like I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the entire universe. I’d been searching for that feeling again and always came up short. No other woman had meant that much to me.  Anyone but her will always be inadequate.

She shakes her head vehemently, trying to shove me away but I press my weight down on her. “Listen to me, Rachel,” I demand.

“Stop, Marshall,” she argues. “It’s done between us.”

Why does she insist on fighting me? Well, I’m willing to throw my own punches.

Grinding my semi-hard erection slowly into her, I say, “Does this feel done to you?”

She moans, but shakes her head, still denying the power, the pull between us. Stubborn woman.

“It was never done between us, Rae. True love doesn’t just end, it’s forever.”

Her eyes water and her lip quivers. I am breaking through, but I still see some defiance.

“Rachel,” but she cuts me off.

“It was never true love. It was infatuation,” she insists.

“For two years?” I demand, frustration getting the better of me.

“I was a kid!” she insists, her resistance reconstructing broken walls.

“Bullshit!” I spit, pulling out of her and standing. I’m angry now. She wants to fight? Well, come on, let’s fight.

“It was more than that for us and you know it,” I accuse through clenched teeth.

“Look at us, Marshall!” she shouts. “All we do is fight! Why do you want that?”

I smile through my aggravation. She doesn’t get it, so I’ll make her get it.