I'm back for a one-shot I just couldn't get out of my head.
Same disclaimer as always.
Wrong
This is wrong.
This is so wrong.
But even as she repeated it in her head, over and over, she didn't stop herself. She didn't try and stop him either.
This is wrong.
… as strong, yet frantic hands tore at the front of her blouse.
So wrong.
… as the back of her knees hit the queen-sized bed.
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
Again and again. When her cleanly-pressed slacks crumpled into a haphazard pile on the floor. When the box spring under the mattress squeaked in protest at the weight of two bodies. Again when she recognized the sound of his jeans zipper being undone.
If there was ever a moment where she should have slowed down and made a rational decision, it was that moment.
But she didn't miss a beat, and his faded Levi's found the carpet with a soft 'thud'. His boxers and her panties followed close behind.
As their breaths became heavier, their kisses, deeper… the voice of reason became fainter.
Emily, this is so…
"Oh my god!"
She gasped and sucked in all the air she could, but it still felt as if she couldn't get enough. They moved together, in a perfect rhythm, like they were made for each other, and no one else.
But that couldn't be possible. He was with someone else. Married to someone else.
A low moan escaped her lips as they rocked faster.
It was erratic and it was rough. But it was also what she needed.
She needed an escape from reality. From the sad, lonely existence she had come to accept as her fate. Perhaps this brief euphoria will sustain her, and she'll at least have a memory to hold onto. Like taking the last sip of water on a journey through the desert, where only the hazy, endless line of the horizon can be seen.
Waves of ecstasy racked her body and shook her mind free of those thoughts.
For the moment, she felt alive, all her senses on high-alert. She felt everything amplified to the n-th degree.
Oh, did it feel good.
He groaned as he reached the precipice as well. Tumbling over the other side, he slowed, adrenaline fading. And they both collapsed into a sweat-slicked tangle of limbs and sheets.
They remained silent for a moment, neither daring to say what inevitably must be said. Instead, he spooned her toned body, drawing lazy patterns on her arm with his fingers.
And for the first time, in a very long time, she fell asleep in the strong arms of a man.
x-x-x-x-x
She awoke to the familiar sound of rustling clothes, the quiet 'thump' as someone slips on a shoe.
The cool air bit her skin as if she'd been slapped, and she silently yearned for the warmth she had, mere hours ago. She kept her eyes closed, and curled into herself, shielding her body with the thin cotton sheet. It was her only means of self-preservation. The fabric, nearly transparent, was her lone layer of protection against the certain rejection she was about to feel.
But it was wrong. I have no right to feel rejected. He's not mine.
He belongs to someone else. To his wife… and his little girl.
She watched him through half-opened eyes as he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket and straightened out the collar until it lay perfectly flat – as if smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes would smooth out the wrinkles he just made in his life.
Emily was frozen, not knowing what to do. The silhouette of his strong body followed him as he made his way to her side of the bed.
Time to face the music.
Finally opening her eyes, she shifted her body, giving him plenty of room to sit on the edge of the bed. After a moment of what seemed like hesitation, he did. He stared out the window at the impending sunrise, the sky giving off a deep red glow. She could see sadness flicker in his eyes. Only for a brief moment, before they turned inquisitive, as if he were lost in thought.
"Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds," he said, still avoiding her gaze.
This man wasn't like Reid, he couldn't recite the quote like he, himself, was a living, breathing encyclopedia. He struggled with the line, and she felt almost compelled to finish it for him; but she let him work it out, giving her some time to think of something to say.
"Shakespeare?" she asked. "I must say I'm a little surprised."
He laughed at that.
"Yeah, well you said you're not most people, maybe neither am I – I'm sure I could pull a few more rabbits out of a hat, if you want."
Emily half-smiled at him when he finally turned to her. She was, once again, at a loss for words. Should she really even bother to find out more about him? He wasn't going to stick around long enough for it to matter if she did.
Let's not get attached, okay Em? It was just one night. Just let it go.
"And you were wrong you know," he said.
He received a confused look in return.
"You said – when you profiled me in New York. You said I'd never actually cheat on my wife… You were wrong."
She wasn't quite sure how to respond to him. It had only been a little over a month since that day in the subway, but she'd forgotten she ever said that.
"So is this all just to prove a point? To prove me wrong?" she snapped.
The moment she said it, she wished she could take it back. She knew the answer already – he would never do something like that. She's just spent her whole life protecting herself, it was an almost automatic response. The walls go up, the claws come out. But he would never… right?
Just like he would never cheat?
But there was no hesitation on his end.
"No! God, no… it's – there's something about you. I don't know, but it makes me crazy because ever since we met, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. And then when I finally got here, to DC, I almost didn't look you up. I didn't think you were the kind to – " he trailed off, though it was obvious to Emily what he didn't say.
"To what? Be the 'other woman'?"
"Yeah."
"There's a lot about me you don't know, Cooper," she scoffed.
A lot of things she would never tell him. She never tells anyone anything – her past is her burden to bear, no one else's. In Emily's book – or rather her mother's book, she just had the pleasure of inheriting a copy – asking for help is a sign of weakness. And the act of simply sharing her past with another person felt like she was practically begging for help. So she doesn't say anything but, "I'm fine". Then she boxes up the pain and pushes it aside.
Pain for another day. When she's alone, and no one can hear her cry.
When she realized he never answered, she filled the silence.
"I'm not, really – I've never done this before. And it's killing me, to be completely honest. We shouldn't have… it was wrong. But with everything that's happened in my life, sometimes letting go is the only way I can deal. And I know it doesn't make any sense, but – lately I've forgotten what it's like to feel."
"Feel what?"
"Anything."
She watched him frown, and from her laying position she could see him flex the muscles in his jaw. He was indecisive about something. But before she had the chance to ask him what was wrong, Cooper turned to her with sad, yet understanding eyes.
Then, in an instant, he was looming over her, lips feather-light against her own. Those understanding eyes, wide open, staring into hers as she looked up at him. A quick spark of lust ignited them both.
He grabbed her wrists and pinned them together, above her head, their lips never parting.
He kissed her. Hard.
She struggled to move her wrists; they were trapped under his left hand, as his right explored her body as it pleased. He rendered her powerless. Again.
She moaned in pleasure, as he found a particularly sensitive spot.
The sun rose a little more and it crept behind the dark impending clouds.
When the sun was gone, and the world was a little bit darker, the downpour started without further warning. The heavy beating of the rain against the window didn't catch their attention – instead Cooper flipped them over in one quick motion.
Lighting struck, fierce and angry. His clothes and shoes were discarded to the floor.
Thunder rolled violently. But neither heard it over the sounds of their panting. The sound of bare skin against bare skin. The 'thump, thump, thump' of their heartbeats, nearly deafening in their ears.
x-x-x-x-x
When he left her bed again, he didn't come back.
Wearing nothing but the light sheet draped over her breasts and tucked under her arms, she followed him to the front door.
"Emily, I'm so sorry – " he started.
But she cut him off before he could continue, her shield, back up – as strong as ever. There was no need for apologies – she was a big girl. She could handle a one-night stand as much as the next lonely, overworked woman. She wouldn't let him see what she was really feeling.
She let him see too much already.
"Cooper, please. We all just need a little adventure sometimes," she said with so much confidence, she surprised herself. Even she almost believed it for a second.
Almost.
If he wasn't buying it, he didn't show it.
A smile crossed his lips – a genuine one, as far as Emily could tell. After all, it was a part of her job, picking out the real smiles from the fakes and the forced.
And she was really good at her job.
He took a few steps down the hallway before he turned to her.
"You really aren't most people."
Then he walked away. Down the stairs, and out of her life.
Emily shut the door and locked it. Locking out the world… and him. She crawled back into bed, thanking God it was her day off. There was no way in hell she was up to having a conversation with anybody, let alone even be in the same room as somebody.
She got comfortable, facing the window, watching as the once torrential rain, slowed to a mere drizzle.
Water droplets drew patterns on the glass as they slid all the way down to the windowsill.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, she drifted off to sleep to nothing but the methodical sound of the rain.
With nothing but the cool sheets and the lingering scent of what will never be hers.
x-x-x-x-x
"When something seems wrong in your life, the only way to have resolution with it is to let it go. Trying to make it right keeps it wrong."
- Beth Johnson
Well, there you have it. I was watching Lo-Fi and Mayhem the other day and really couldn't help but notice the OBVIOUS attraction between Emily and Cooper. And if he wasn't already 'married' I really think they could have had something. *sigh* So, I made it happen here... not exactly a happy ending, but I hope I captured the emotions of this situation accurately - anger, lust, loneliness, sadness, release, rejection, hurt, comfort, etc.
Let me know. I appreciate and welcome all comments.
NJL