"Taylor?" Punk snapped his fingers and I was back to the present. Not knowing how to answer, I stuttered.
"Phil, there's more to it than that." The look on his face crushed me; it looked as if he got the wind knocked out of him. With one last look at me, he left the room. Me being me, followed him. Here it goes.
The Second City Saint, stood in the kitchen, gripping the end of the counter so tight, his knuckles were turning white.
"How the hell could you let her die, Taylor? You knew and you never told anyone? She would be here right now if it weren't for you!"
Everything I'd been thinking for the past month was now confirmed; all the guilt, finally at the surface. Then I told myself nothing would change her mind. Who was he to judge? Deep down, he saying it hurt worse. Walking closer I slapped him across the face with my backhand.
"Screw you, Brooks! You don't know how guilty I've felt-"
"Good!" I slapped him again, and his eyes glazed over with undeniable rage.
"I threatened to tell you, but she threatened to cut me out of her life. I tried so many damn times to change her mind, or at least get her to tell you the truth. I felt guilty for so long, but somewhere along the line, I stopped. Not because I don't miss her, but because she told me over and over that nothing could change her decision. Not even you."
Holding my breath, I walked over to the corner, where two parts of the counter top meet. He just stood there, in shock.
"I'm sorry, I blamed you," he whispered. "I just can't believe the two people I care about most kept something this big from me."
"I'm sorry too. But she was happy." He nodded and I knew he couldn't fight me on this. Punk stood there and kept looking at me. His hazel eyes locked with my blue, and then something he said occurred to me, just then. I just can't believe the two people I care about most kept something this big from me. Two people? How the hell did he mean that? I mean of course he loved Hope, but why group me with her? He crept closer and before I knew it, he had me cornered. His hands rested beside me, each one on a different part of the marble counter.
The look of rage that was in his eyes quickly became something else. I've seen the look before. The times he looked at Hope, or when John looked at me. My heart beat in my chest, but not out of fear, but out of want. His tongue played with his lip ring as he stared at my lips. Soon, my chest was pressed up against his muscular chest.
I found the courage and whispered,
"Two people?" With his signature smirk and a nod, all my inhibitions were gone. That's why, when his lips pressed against mine, I couldn't stop myself from kissing back.
As the kissing continued, my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer. His tattooed hands left the counter top, and stuck his hands into my back jean pockets, pulling me closer, too. His tongue grazed my bottom lip, and then our tongues battled for dominance. I gave in as a moan escaped me. This was wrong on so many levels; this is cheating. Yet in the moment, I couldn't bring myself to pull away.
Biting on his lip, he let out a groan, and I could feel his hardened member against me, until he lifted me up and placed me onto the counter. My legs wrapped around him and his lips trailed hot open mouth kisses down my neck. He bit and sucked at the skin, and I felt a tingle between my legs. When my hands roamed up his shirt, all I could think about was getting it off of him, and having our way with eachother right here, right now.
The ministrations continued to my neck, until I pulled his lips to mine. His hands rested on my sides, and the aching between my legs increased. Then, Emma-Lynn started crying and I snapped out of it. In an instant we parted, calming our breathing. Punk's eyes cleared, and I felt cold. Not knowing why, I jumped off the marble counter top, and straightened up my appearance. He gave me this look and I hated it.
Even more, I hated how in that period of time, not only did I fuck up a three year relationship with John, but I made out with my dead best friend's ex-fiancé. Also, I didn't understand this feeling I had with him. I mean yes, the more we're around eachother I get this feeling, but-
"Taylor, I'm...I don't know what came over me," His gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. I choked back tears, and merely nodded. I headed upstairs and checked on Emma-Lynn, who was back asleep and perfectly fine. Kissing her smooth forehead, and rubbing her round stomach, I turned to leave. Heading into the guest room, I checked to see that the clock read: eleven-thirty at night. Pulling my bag out from the closet, I began packing it, hurrying just in case Phil came upstairs. A man cleared his throat, and I knew I was caught.
"Where are you going?" Turning around to face him, he looked so torn. Let me go, or stop me? Zipping it up, I grabbed my phone to see several missed texts and calls from John. Oh God, John! He didn't do anything to deserve this. How could I do this to him?
"I uh, thought I'd go home…to John. He's called and texted and I never answered. Plus, I haven't been home in a week or two..." I drifted off.
"Oh, okay. Running away, Taylor?" My head snapped up to meet his gaze, and I glared. What the hell is going on here?
"I'm not running from anything. What happened was a mistake and won't happen again. Take care of Emmie; I'll be back in a week."
Not giving him anymore time to throw something in my face, I sprinted to my car, and drove home. Turning on the radio to my favorite station, a song caught my attention.
"Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight-"
Damn radio, so I shut it off. I never liked you much anyway, Lady Antebellum. Eventually, I parked the car and just sat there, taking a deep breath. I already fought with Punk today, I really don't want a war with John. Maybe I'll just sleep in my car? No, I'd freeze my ass off; it is fall anyway.
Somehow, I ended up pulling on an old T-Shirt after changing my clothes, and lay on the couch, pulling the blanket around me. Finally, what happened sunk in. I kissed Punk. I cheated on John. I kissed my best friend's boyfriend. What kind of person does that make me or us?
Soon, the flood gates opened, and everything came out. I was a bone-a-fide mess. Everything was so simple, well somewhat. I promised Hope I'd look after them. How could I betray her like that? Not to mention John; in which our relationship already was questionable anymore. In a matter of moments, things just became fucked up. Thankfully, my eyes became heavy, and sleep gladly took over.
Next morning, I rolled over expecting to fall off. Instead, I felt someone pull me closer to their warm chest. Opening my blue eyes, I met another pair in John's. He gave me a dimpled smile but I felt numb. Dammit, I probably have tear marks all over.
Any time before, I'd love waking up in his arms. John and I have been through a lot together after all, but right now? I just want to be alone. Or own a time machine. Pulling out of his embrace, I went to stand up, but he grabbed my arm.
"Taylor, what the hell happened? You're home for the first time in nearly two weeks, and I find you sleeping on the couch? Not to mention looking like you cried all night. Baby girl, what's going on?"
A part of me loved him for his concern. The other part of me, that was also winning, wanted to scream at him. Glaring at him, he pulled away. Told you!
"Why, Johnny whatever do you mean? I mean it wouldn't have anything to do with what you told Punk!"
My voice rose higher with each word. His blue eyes widened in shock. He went to speak and I held my hand up to stop him. John looked taken back.
"I don't want to hear it John. I trusted you not to tell him. Yet you did."
"Taylor, I figured as close as you too have gotten the past month that you told him. I mean, when I let it slip, he acted as if he knew."
Of course Phil acted like it. In a way, he didn't want John to think he had some kind of upper hand. After staying with the guy for nearly a month, you pick up on some things. I sighed then began heading downstairs into the kitchen to make something to eat. I saw the marble countertop and my heart thudded in my chest.
Closing my eyes, all I could see was Punk's hands roaming my body; pressing me against his marble countertop. Feel his soft lips and lip ring pressing against my neck. Now I half wondered if I have a hickey. Opening my eyes, he obviously wasn't there, and I tried shaking away the part of me that was disappointed. Damn kitchen. Now that's all I'll ever think about. Last night I felt horrible and guilty. Today, I just felt numb and confused. I mean, obviously neither of us pushed each other away. What's that mean? For what felt like the hundredth time, my thoughts were interrupted by a male voice; in this case; John's.
"Baby girl, I'm sorry okay? Now c'mon don't be mad. I missed you."
He softly kissed the back of my neck as he wrapped his really muscular arms around me from behind. Never before did I realize how different it is to be in John's arms compared to Punk's. All out of energy to fight, I relented.
"Fine, so what are you doing today?"
"Spending the day with my gorgeous girlfriend. That is, if she wants." Spending the day with John mostly meant rounds of sex. I just can't do that right now. Especially not after Punk and I nearly fucked in his kitchen.
"Don't you have a house show to do?"
"Yeah, but that's not until later tonight." Turning around in his arms, he had a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes. One that I didn't want to diminish.
"Well how about, I sit front row and cheer you on, and then come back home and take care of you."
He smirked and kissed me. It was a different kiss though; more possessive and less tender. As his tongue tried to enter my mouth, I pulled away breathless. Dammit Taylor, this is the man you love! Why the hell would you let one little kiss with Brooks change that? One side of me said that, while the other answered with 'Because you've been falling for Phillip Jack Brooks. Stop lying. '
"Then what will we do in the meantime?"
"You do whatever you usually do before a house show, and I will be..." Not where I was yesterday, it'd be too soon. For who, I wasn't sure. "I'll be shopping for food. I swear you've cleaned out the whole house."
He laughed,
"Babe, I was hungry. How about I will in a couple hours? For now, I just want to hold you. Other than last night I don't remember the last time we slept in the same bed."
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty for doing what I think is best?" I knew that's not what he meant; at least I hope not.
"No? Jesus, Taylor. Sorry! The way you're acting is as if you do have something to be guilty for!" I hope he didn't notice how I forgot to breathe, or swallowed thickly. Moment of truth; I could either tell him the truth or watch all hell break loose, or not say anything at all. I mean if it's not a big deal, why even mention it.
"No. What would I have to feel guilty for? I've basically been a nanny to Emma while Punk does, whatever Punk does," I said defensively and I hope he couldn't see through my lie.
Yet, when he only nodded and went to make breakfast, part of me wishes he didn't buy my lie. If he cared, maybe he would've pushed harder. In that moment I knew I could never let him get away. We've been important in each other's lives for far too long. I love him, I do. Sneaking up behind him, I tried my best to wrap my arms around him.
"I would love that. Matter of fact, I can think of a few ways we could pass the time."
In an instant, John's lips were feverishly on mine. This time, I let his tongue in my mouth, and let it win. I was in his hands and ready, somewhat to let him do whatever. As he pulled me closer, he ground his bulge against my now wet crotch. He let out a groan. Wrapping my legs around his waist and grinding back into him, he pushed me against a wall in our kitchen. My button up shirt I wore to bed flew open as he yanked it off of me. John roughly pick and sucked on my neck. If Punk gave me a hickey, he wouldn't notice. If I didn't have one, I would now.
Stepping back, John pulled off his boxers as I took off my underwear and shorts. Before I could even breathe, John's hardened member slammed into me. It felt as if he ripped right through my throbbing core.
"Fu...John!" He bit my lip as we kisses then continued biting my neck as a loud moan escaped me.
"That's right baby, scream my name." He moaned into my ear.
John's pace was fast and his thrusts hard and deep. What little nails I had were scratching at his back and it'd be a shock he wasn't bleeding. His roughness was unusual. With each thrust, he grabbed my hips tighter and tighter.
"Oh, John, harder."
"God, you're so tight! You're mine, no one else's." Then, I could feel it building in my stomach. Soon, my body was wracked in an orgasm, and John then too came. My toes curled and I could've sworn my eyes rolled back in my head.
Sweat gleamed off of John's body, as he kissed my forehead.
"I love you Taylor Lynn Helmsley," he whispered. Kissing his lips, as he pulled out, I muttered back,
"I love you too John. I'm going to go shower, you make food."
"Aw, come on babe, round two?" I managed a laugh as I gathered my clothes.
"Ha, no; I'm sore already and it's not even noon."
Walking away, he playfully smacked my ass, and I stuck my tongue out at him in response. As I got into the shower, I could smell the pancakes and bacon cooking. Washing my hair, I wondered what just happened. Why was John so...possessive? Why as I am in the shower, after having sex with my boyfriend, am I thinking about another man? Why does that man have to be Punk?