Page 106 of One Week Hating You
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WE’RE BACK IN OUR APARTMENT, and I’m perched on the edge of our bed. My legs are pried open, and his head is between my thighs. He’s kneeling on the floor, blowing hot kisses on my sweet spot. The skirt of my red dress is hiked up over his head. “God, I missed you,” he mutters against the silk of my panties. “You’re so sexy.”
I still have my Louboutins on and I feel empowered. I throw my head back and stretch out on the bed. After all he’s done to me, the least he could do is make me come. “Take off my panties,” I beg, and he’s quick to oblige. He practically tears them off, and peels off the shoes while he’s at it.
“Do you want me to go down on you, baby,” he asks. He always asks. And every time he does, he ruins it a little bit. Blake doesn’t ask, he just goes for it. Some might say that’s bad, but it’s also so much hotter. “Yeah,” I breathe.
He knows just what I like, where to kiss, where to lick and swirl, how to tease me. He lingers and teases, just how I like it. All I see is Blake. I shake my head, trying to jiggle his face out of my mind. In no time, Peter brings me to climax. I grasp onto his shoulders as I ride the waves of pleasure and I cry out into the silent room. When I come to and finally look at him, he seems pretty happy with himself. He climbs over me. “God, that was hot.” His face is wet and when he kisses me, I taste myself on his lips.
He pulls his mouth from mine. “I want you,” he says. “It’s been so long.”
A few seconds later, he’s pulled down his pants and he’s inside me. It’s like it’s always been, fast and not very exciting. No sparks, no rainbows. My heart beats its usual rhythm, my breathing is unaffected. When he’s done, he kisses my forehead very sweetly, like he always does. I’ve kind of missed that.
He slides down the zipper of my dress and takes it off. I reach for his shirt and peel it off. We undress each other slowly after the act, doing things kind of backwards. He snuggles close to me and wraps his arms around me. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I smile up at him. I can’t repeat his words and return the sentiment. Have I missed him? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I ponder this for a second or two.
It’s true, but it’s not fair at all. I’ve been busy with my family, and having sex with my old high school flame. I haven’t had a chance to miss him, but now that I’m in his arms, I’m happy.
So the sex is lackluster. There’s more to a relationship than great sex. There’s mutual interests, friendship, sharing goals and views of the world. Peter and I have all that.
I get lost in his eyes as he smiles at me, his nose almost touching mine. I’m glad the two of us have found ourselves together again in our cozy bed. He slides a hand seductively over the curve of my hips, and I smile. I’m not quite sure why I’ve slept with him again so quickly – he’s familiar, I suppose.
“You’ve been eating your mom’s cooking again,” he teases. “We’ll have to whip you back up into shape. Starting tomorrow.”
My stomach sinks. We’ve been separated for weeks, and that’s what he notices – the fact that I’ve gained a few pounds. I jerk away and wrap myself up in the sheets. I struggle to keep myself covered up as I get off the bed. I don’t want him to see me naked.
Fuck, you’re beautiful, Freckles.
“What the—” he says.
Every curve is perfect.
“Get out!” I scream. “Get out of my bed, and go back to your brother’s.”
Every single freckle.
“C’mon, I was just teasing,” he says. “So you got a little chubby… I kind of like it. Your tits are bigger.”
I want to taste every inch.
“Get out!”
Now I’m throwing pillows at him, and when that doesn’t work, I fling random things at him, anything I can get my hands on; a box of Kleenex, my tin of body lotion, the hardcover I’ve just started.
I get him right on the forehead.
He slaps a hand over his eye. “You’re fucking crazy,” he scoffs and jumps off the bed. I keep hurling shit at him, and he’s running around naked, trying to locate his clothes. It’s actually kind of funny.
“Fuck, I was right to leave you at the church,” he says. “You’re fucking insane.”
“No, for the first time in my life,” I snap. “I’m finally sane.”
* * *
“What else didyou throw at him?” Corrie is asking, completely riveted.
I smile, recalling the whole unfortunate scenario. “I hit him in the back with a candle holder as he was trying to escape. It fell to the floor and cracked in two.”
