Page 26 of Wicked Games

There are people who say that his wants turned me into something less than who I am, but rather than defend myself, I just wanted him to leave and be done with it. It would have been nice if he had divorced me before he started sleeping with her, but I should’ve left before it came to that, holding on to something that wasn’t there anymore. I know that says more about him than it does about me, but you can tell yourself trite statements like that and it doesn’t do much good, even if you believe them.

I’m not tired, and though I’m comfortable with Seth’s arms around me, I carefully untangle myself and lean over him to grab my pen and notebook that are on the nightstand. He told me he didn’t want me to leave, and I won’t, but I can write and capture my feelings on paper. I don’t know where he wants this to go, and he probably doesn’t either. I wouldn’t be surprised if he does what Bill thinks he will—uses me for the summer and then kisses me goodbye when we have to go back to Ashfield at the end of August. But, maybe that’s what I need too, and I won’t let myself be one of those women who latches on to a man just because he talked her into spreading her legs. I don’t need him, and I was doing okay before I met him. If I can keep my heart out of it, I should be fine.

I scribble my thoughts, forgotten feelings of being under a man just because he wants me there, and that I thought if I was going to find something like this again, it wouldn’t have been so soon. I roll that around, how it feels to be with a man who isn’t my ex-husband. I was with Darren for most of my adult life, his love and guidance shaping me into who I am, the woman I grew into. That’s another reason why I came out here. To figure out who I am as someone who isn’t part of a couple.

Hattie wouldn’t take it so seriously. “Have fun, see where it leads,” she’d say, and then have no problem doing it. I’m a heavier soul than that and always have been. Our mother likened us to a pool, Hattie the shallow end, me the deep, and it reflected in the things we wrote about. I should try to be more like her or I’m going to end up with a broken heart at the end of the summer. Use Seth to heal what little I can, and start fresh in the fall.

I write until I can’t anymore, and I don’t mean my thoughts and feelings. It’s getting dark outside, and I can’t see the paper. Seth could sleep until morning for as little sleep as I assume he’s been getting, and I think about waking him, though there’s nothing to wake him up for. I don’t mind if he spends the night.

My stomach growls, taking the decision away from me.

“You’re hungry,” he murmurs, not opening his eyes.

“A little. We skipped dinner.”

“Hmmm. Worth it.”

“Yeah.” I set my notebook and pen aside and wiggle down next to him.

He wastes no time pulling me into his arms, and I brush my hand over his cock. He’s hard.

“There’s a vulgar joke in there somewhere about hunger and meat,” he says, cupping my breast in his hand and squeezing my nipple between his thumb and finger.

My breasts are sensitive, and his touch zips down to my core. Instinctively, my hips tilt toward him. “It’s been a long time for both of us. I’m sure we’re hungry in all the ways that means.”

He squeezes harder and I gasp.

“How hungry are you, Avery?” He lifts onto an elbow and sucks my nipple into his mouth.

“So hungry I feel sick.”

“Yeah, that happens.” He nibbles on my breast, little love bites, and skims his hand down my belly and between my legs. He rubs his fingers over my clit, and I moan, tugging at his hair and pushing him closer.

In response, he sucks half my breast into his mouth. I can’t see it, it’s too dark in here, but I can feel it, the pain making me swollen and wet. He shoves two fingers inside me and presses his thumb to my clit. I can’t take any more, and I come around his fingers, my breast aching.

He doesn’t let me go until I drift down. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I? I’m sorry if you’ll be bruised tomorrow.”

“No. I like a little pain during sex. I would’ve stopped you if you were really hurting me.”

“Good. It’s my turn now.”

“What do you like?” I don’t want to be selfish, and I want to give as well as take.

“Turn over for me.”

“Okay, but⁠—”

He puts his hand to the back of my head and presses his lips to mine. “That’s not what I mean, but if I did, I’d talk to you about it first. You’ll never make me mad if you say no. Whatever you want to give me will always be enough.”

“Thanks, but I want to make you happy too.”

“I know you will.”

I roll over and position myself on my knees, hugging my pillow.

He pushes two fingers inside me, making sure I’m ready, but I’m so wet I don’t need it. Gently, he slides his cock inside me, grabbing my hips and sinking his fingers into my skin. “You feel fucking good.”

I love how it feels when he’s inside me too, and I move backward, increasing the pressure. The tip of his cock hits the center of my body, and I moan.