I close my eyes and visions of her pervade my brain. Again, I see her mouth forming a smile. The curve of her hips, blood red lips. Fuck. My pants feel hard. Finally I see her sea blues, gazing hard into mine with a sadness. I feel a pinge in my gut. I never feel this way, actually I can't remember a time I had ever felt any semblance of caring at all. I was relieved from the break up, but now I feel nervous, incomplete without her in my bed. Beads of sweat start to form. Now I see her back, shoulder blades that spread the span of her, down to her spine. Ridges I've touched countless times. I need her.
I call her from work occasionally, just to hear her voice.
"Hello?" She answers dismally. This time I find myself finally responding. "Birdie..." I whisper. I hear her intake of breath, surprised. She takes a beat. "Don." I close my eyes, drinking in her voice. She hasn't hung up yet. "Is this about the kids? I told you Sally has a recital on Sunday. Do you-" "I want you." She doesn't say anything, so I continue. "I want you in my office right now. On the kitchen table. On top of me riding me, where people know you are mine. Just so you know you will always be mine." I hear her gasp, so I continue. "Betts, i miss you." I leave it there, hanging in the void, desperately hoping she feels the same.
"What don." She snaps angrily as I stand in the darkness of her room. Somehow I've found myself drawn here, unable to stay away any longer. I can only see her silhouette against the bed, arms folded already. "Birdie." I mumble, fumble walking toward her. She leans back, making her body long while I move over her. She thinks she wants control, but I know she needs this. Being close to me is impossible, but I try to open myself by starting with the body. I pull her hair back slightly so she will look at me. "I have never pretended with you." Tears roll down her face, and I wipe them quickly. She pulls me down, kissing, biting with ferocious passion. "Fuck you, Don." She says in between kisses. I clutch her tousseled hair, tilting for access to her neck. I reach between her legs, hands running up her thighs making her shake. Now she says, "Fuck Don," with a different connotation. "Leave him," I whisper into her skin as my fingers make their way into her, easing her open. I have no right to say this and Betty knows that, but the words leave my mouth anyway. She ignores me, hands clutching my hair pulling me close. "Tell me to stop," I tease knowing she's too far gone. That there's no possibility of her ever being able to say no to me. "I hate you." She mumbles leaning back pushing more of my mouth into her. I know there's no way I could ever get enough of her. Still, she lets me in, vulnerable as ever while I weave my mouth into her. I look up, locking eyes so I can see her. She's breathing hard, panting almost, with her eyebrows knotted in frustration. "I need you," Betty whispers. "Don, come back."