The Mistress Mistake (11 page)

A menacing rumble rattled through his chest,
and he lifted himself an arm's length away from her and she knew he
was staring down at her.
"Son-of-a-goddamn-mother-fucking-bitch."
She turned her head
to the side and took a gasping breath as she halfway got herself
under control. Her tears were silent now, at least, even though
they flowed freely down the sides of her cheeks.

As she listened to his continued cussing with
her eyes shut tight, he pushed himself off of her, threw himself
from the bed, and she heard the bathroom door slam behind him.

Relief came first, panic almost immediately
followed. What the hell had she done? She hadn't out and out
refused to have sex with him, but from his reaction, that's exactly
what had happened.

And that wasn't part of their playbook. She
didn't get the choice of whether or not to have sex with him. And
although she'd never said 'no', she had the dark suspicion that
that's the way he would see it.

Because he'd definitely wanted to. He'd been
ready, more than ready.

And she hadn't allowed him to get his money's
worth.

Her tears dried up and dread took their
place. She sat up in the middle of the bed, and clutched the sheet
over her and waited for him to come out. She didn't know what to
say to him.

Jessica wasted time on worrying about that
because he never gave her the opportunity to speak. Connor walked
from the bathroom and without a glance in her direction or even his
customary, 'tomorrow', he sailed from the apartment, slamming the
front door behind him.

It was very little consolation to her
screwed-up brain to hear him securing the lock from the
outside.

****

Thirty minutes or so later, Jessica roused
herself from her lethargy and slid off the bed. It was too early to
go to sleep, not that she'd be able to sleep anyway.

As if by rote, she went to the bathroom and
ran a hot bath and tried to relax the tension in her muscles. Her
nerves settled into a low hum instead of the loud, cacophonous
noise that had been beating through her system only half an hour
earlier. She soaked in the warm water until it turned tepid, and
then she climbed out, toweled her body, and slipped into a pair of
panties and an old ragged t-shirt that she regularly slept in. She
brushed her teeth and spread lotion over her body, enjoying the
coolness against the heat of her sun-kissed skin.

She wandered into the dining area and looked
at the container of tacos that earlier had tempted her appetite.
Now, she felt nothing but slightly queasy at the thought of eating
anything at all. She slipped them into the refrigerator, and
stopped at the sink to drink half a glass of water. After what had
happened with Connor earlier, she couldn't quit worrying about her
immediate future. The last ten days or so had been tough, but at
least there had been a rhythm and continuity to their relationship
that had put her mind at ease about the days and weeks to come. But
not so anymore, she was back to worrying.

She tried to finish the last few chapters of
her book, but her brain was still way too keyed up to retain the
words she read. She tossed it aside and walked around the apartment
again, desperately wishing she had a television or a computer of
her own. She'd never had enough money to buy a laptop, but luckily,
almost every other student had access to one, so the university
computers were almost always available for her when she needed one.
But she didn't have that luxury here.

She didn't even have Internet on her
phone.

She was weary, but not sleepy.

Grabbing her pillow and coverlet off of her
bed, she went back to the couch and slid down onto it. She had a
nice view through the gauzy curtains over the French doors; she
could see all the way through the wrought iron fencing to the
softly rippling water of the swimming pool. She focused on the
water, and pretended she was watching television as she finally
felt the sweet oblivion of sleep overtake her.

****

Jessica's internal body clock and the full
moon shining its light through the French doors told her it was the
middle of the night when she was awakened by the sound of her front
door opening. She sat up and clutched the coverlet to her chest,
but couldn't contain the loud gasp of fear that escaped her
lips.

Panic and relief hit her simultaneously as
she recognized Connor's large form illuminated in the small amount
of moonlight shining into the room. He must have heard her gasp,
because he turned toward the couch where she reposed in a
semi-sitting, semi-reclining position.

They stared at each other in silence across
the small room. Jessica's panic fled and only relief, harsh and
all-encompassing, pulsed through her veins.

He turned and bolted the lock and came to
stand next to the couch, looking down at her. She couldn't identify
the emotion playing across his features, but she offered him a
tentative smile, both because she wanted to, and to offer him an
olive branch after the way they had parted.

After many long seconds of studying her, his
mouth tightened in what she knew was an effort to smile back at
her. He reached out his hand and cupped the side of her face,
running the pad of his thumb softly over her cheek.

It was the first touch he'd given her that
contained any gentle emotion, since the night he'd taken her
virginity and said such sweet things to her. She sighed and rubbed
her cheek against his palm, enjoying his tactile touch and the
gentleness of another human being, something she received so little
of in her life.

At her display of affection, his hand stilled
momentarily and she heard a slight hiss leave his lungs.

But then just as suddenly as he'd stopped, he
began to caress her again. Seconds ticked by while neither of them
spoke, and the only sound in the room was their heightened
breathing and the beat of her heart that ricocheted through her
ears.

Dropping to his knees in front of her, he
pulled her to the edge of the couch where her legs dangled on
either side of his hips. He wrapped both hands around her face and
lifted it, and then he held her eyes with his until his lips closed
over hers.

It was the first real kiss he'd given her
since that very first night. The kisses he'd forced on her a few
hours before didn't count; they'd been full of icy contempt and
were meant to punish, meant to exert his dominance and control.

These kisses were different.

Her lids slipped closed as she moaned softly
from her chest, and at the small noise, his tongue pushed between
her lips and tangled with hers. He kissed her over and over again,
his hands gripping her scalp as his tongue and lips demanded her
response.

She gave it to him readily, his sudden
gentleness and need for intimacy a soothing balm to her painful
heart. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she fell into the kiss as
if he truly belonged to her, and she forcibly pushed every other
thought from her mind and pretended that he was hers to keep
forever.

Her arousal grew swiftly to fever pitch, and
from his ragged breathing, she knew he felt the same.

It was no shock to her then when he reached
down, and without hesitation, slid her panties from her hips and
tossed them aside.

But she was utterly shocked when he released
her from the kiss and pushed his head between her legs. He gripped
her knees and pressed them far apart, and then ran his hands up the
inside of her thighs and opened her, spreading her femininity
apart, and then put his finger on the spot above her sex that
aroused her and made her soft and pliant for him. He focused his
gaze between her thighs, and then raised his eyes to hers and
slowly asked, "What other things have you never done?"

Connor's voice sounded deep and tortured as
he asked her that question, but he didn't wait for a response from
her; he moved his attention back to her spread thighs.

He swirled his finger over and over her clit,
and then swiped his tongue from the bottom of her exposed pink skin
all the way to the top.

She tensed and let out a small sound, and at
her moan of approval, he did it again, and then again.

Her hands clutched his hair as his tongue
sank inside of her, while he manipulated her clit between his
fingers, massaging and pulling at it. She whimpered again as she
was lashed with an intensity she'd never felt before. An awesome,
incredible intensity that had her hips lifting and pushing against
his fingers and mouth.

He ran his other hand up her torso until it
landed on her breast, and she immediately stiffened against him.
She still couldn't do it; she still didn't want him to touch her
there. He must have felt her withdrawal, because he released her
breast and settled his hand on her hip, his fingers sinking into
her flesh as he gripped her tightly.

The worry went away just as quickly as it had
come, and Jessica fell back into a world she'd never visited
before. As he continued to play with her, she felt her orgasm just
out of reach and began whimpering, needing something more.

He redoubled his efforts, and slipped two
fingers inside of her as his teeth and tongue took over on her clit
and began rasping against her.

The dual intensity was exactly what she
needed and she felt her brain splinter in two as a soft wail left
her lips and she was inundated with a kaleidoscope of colors and a
wave of pleasure so intense she thought her heart might stop
beating.

Endless moments later, as she slowly came
down, her blood cooling and her breathing evening out, she was
mildly aware that Connor was stripping off his clothes and coming
over her.

He pushed his torso between her legs, dragged
her butt to the edge of the couch another inch and plunged into
her, a groan thundering from his chest. He hung over her, and began
pumping inside of her, steady strokes that became stronger and more
erratic as they went on.

She wrapped her arms around his back, and
lifted her legs around his hips. It didn't take longer than a few
short minutes, and he was coming inside of her, stilling against
her as he pushed deep inside and she could feel his seed hitting
her womb.

Shock that he'd forgotten a condom almost
overrode the shock from the unexpected, intimate experience she'd
just had with him.

Long moments passed as he lay against her,
the sound of his breathing slowing to a steady pace.

She ran her fingers through his hair and
whispered, "You forgot a condom."

Connor lifted his head from her shoulder and
his eyes nailed hers. She felt the attraction, deep and
intoxicating, that flowed between them. "It doesn't matter. You
wouldn't fuck around on me, would you?"

She was almost annihilated by his harsh
vocabulary after what had just taken place between them, but chose
to ignore the words and concentrate on the implication they
contained, which sounded like trust. "No, I wouldn't," she
whispered.

"You don't need to worry either."

As he pulled back from her and helped her to
her feet, her mind raced over that statement. Without the use of a
condom, her need for the bathroom was more immediate than his, and
as she shut the door and cleaned herself up, she thought about what
he'd said.

When they'd started their relationship, she'd
been too afraid to demand fidelity, but as the days had clicked by
and he'd visited her on every single one of them, she'd hoped she
had nothing to worry about. And his abbreviated assurance, she
believed, was just that. It was his way of telling her that he
wasn't sleeping with anyone else either, and that he didn't intend
to.

Relief spread through her system as she let
herself out of the bathroom and he went in. She retrieved a clean
pair of panties and slipped them on, under her shirt, and went out
to the living room to wait for him.

He came to stand in the doorway between the
bedroom and living room and as if they did this every day and it
wasn't something new, he said, "I'm starving. I didn't eat
anything."

She met his gaze and took a sustaining
breath. "Me, either. Do you want me to nuke the tacos?"

"Yeah, sure."

Standing up, she walked to the kitchen while
he took the place she'd just vacated on the couch. While she was
busy getting the food ready and pouring out glasses of iced water,
he called from the other room, "You don't have a television."

No shit, Sherlock.
"Yeah, I know." She
moved everything to the small dinette and he joined her there.

They ate in silence, her heart beating loudly
in her ears at the unfamiliarity of the situation. He didn't say
anything more while they ate, but he stared at her steadily most of
the time. She had a hard time swallowing her food in front of him,
even though her appetite had come roaring back.

She finished eating before he did, and she
stood up and began tidying up the mess. When he was finished
eating, he followed her into the small galley kitchen and crowded
her back against the counter. Caging her in with his arms, he
leaned down to her ear and whispered, "I loved seeing you come.
Loved making you come. Understand me when I tell you I'm going to
have more of that, okay?"

Both enthralled and floored at his words, she
could only nod her head in agreement.

He lifted his head from her ear and slowly,
touched one finger to the tip of her nose. "Tomorrow."

And then he was gone.

****

It was raining the next day. The four walls
were closing in on Jessica and she thought she was going to pull
her hair out. At about two-thirty, she couldn't stand it anymore
and put on a hoodie that she knew was going to get soaked, and she
left her apartment and ran all the way to the clubhouse.

It was empty, as she had fully expected. She
took off her drenched sweatshirt and went over to the bookshelf.
She chose a couple more books and tossed them on the coffee table
in the sitting area that contained a couch and four armchairs, in
addition to the flat-screen television.