A/N: Punksbaby, Guest, ThatGirl54, Guest, xSamiliciousx, Athena MacG, ChelleLew, xKimberly12x, JoMode, Guest, PunkedbyAmbrose, and kcstacielynn are all fabulous people who deserve homebaked cookies. Rock on. :)
Chapter Eight
The breakfast nook had always been one of Elizabeth's favorite spots. She loved to linger over a meal there. She enjoyed the warmth of the early morning sun pouring through the windows while she drank her coffee. She liked watching the city wake up as she stayed cozy in her bathrobe.
But now there was no sunlight. She wasn't even sure what the weather outside was; she hadn't opened any of the blinds or curtains since coming down. The usually sunny and warm kitchen seemed cold and dark. Her coffee tasted wrong. The padded bench felt hard.
Across from her, John nursed his own coffee. He looked tired, even though he'd gone to bed before she had. He'd taken the guest room downstairs before she'd requested that he do so. She had tried to sleep in their bed but, not trusting the fresh sheets, she'd slept in one of the upstairs guest rooms.
For a couple that was rarely home, they had many guest rooms. For a couple that hardly ever entertained, there were many social gathering areas within the house.
Why did they need such a big house?
Kids, she supposed, picking at the pastry he'd brought from the bakery. He'd told her he wanted a few kids. Later, though. When he wasn't so busy.
Taking a deep breath, she picked up her coffee for a sip. The silence stretched on, until she wanted to scream. She lowered her cup. "How long?"
It was the first thing she'd said to him since entering the house. It was the first time she'd spoken at all.
He rubbed his face. "A few months."
At least he wasn't playing stupid. Or trying to convince her nothing was happening. "A few months what? Fucking?"
John winced. "Yeah. And…" He cleared his throat and pushed away his own pastry. "There was some flirting and stuff for a while before that."
"Stuff," she repeated.
"Do you really want to know everything?"
"No. I want to know why."
"Why?" He rolled his eyes. "You should already know."
"I'm sorry. I'm stupid, remember? Spell it out for your idiotic wife." Her thumb moved to twist her wedding rings but met only bare skin. They were still in her suitcase.
"You're not the easiest woman to be intimate with, Elizabeth. You know that."
"So because you can't make me orgasm like a porn star you had to go fuck some kid?" She scoffed, pushing her hands into her hair.
"She's not a kid. And it was more than that—"
"What, she worships you? Makes you feel like Superman?" She squeezed her eyes shut. "Do you love her?"
"I'd rather not label it."
"Fine. Have fun with her." She slid off the bench. "I want a divorce."
His laugh followed her across the room. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."
She'd had a feeling he would say that. Turning, she steeled herself upon finding he was right there. "Why?"
Finger swept over her cheek. A muscle in his jaw twitched as his hand wrapped around her throat. His grip was as loose as possible but she didn't dare move even an inch.
She thought of the phone she'd gotten on her way home. It was still in its box, in her purse. For some reason she hadn't wanted him to know she had one yet. And even long after she'd known he was asleep she hadn't been able to take it out. She thought of the slip of paper with a number scrawled across, of the man she'd promised to contact.
"No divorce, Elizabeth. I love you too much to let you go over something silly like this."
His kiss was gentle, coaxing. His hand remained at her throat for several moments. Unable to push away, she clenched her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. When his hand slipped down to part her robe, she recalled a gentler touch.
"You love me, too," he murmured.
"Yes," she admitted. Despite everything, she did love him. He was all she'd known. But why did it feel so wrong now? Why didn't his touch warm her as it used to?
Why did she feel as though she were cheating with her husband? Why hadn't she felt she was cheating on him a couple days before?
"No," she protested, backing away and pulling her robe together. "I can't."
John sighed. "What's wrong now?"
"You were… For all I know you had sex with her yesterday. I…" She shook her head, revolted by the fact he saw nothing wrong with his actions. "I can't, John."
"What do you want me to say? That I haven't fucked her this week? Or do you want me to tell you the truth?"
"What is the truth?" she asked, cinching the belt of her robe tightly.
"I've been with her a few times. Monday night on the bus. Most of Tuesday, when I wasn't doing work—"
"I don't want to know," she cried.
"You asked for the truth," he reminded her. His voice was cold, cruel, and his hands caught her arms, forcing her to stand in front of him. "Do you want to know it all? How I can make her cum twice with just a finger? Or how she bucks and screams when I hit it from behind?"
"You're disgusting." Wrenching away, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Too aghast to cry, she rushed from the kitchen, aware of him following her slowly.
"Elizabeth, what are you doing?" he asked from the bedroom doorway moments later.
"I'm leaving," she managed, throwing items haphazardly into her suitcase.
"No, you're not."
"I am," she insisted. As she spoke she knew it to be true. He wouldn't stop her. Not this time. And even if it wasn't for good, she had to get away. Away from the bed that Melissa had probably bucked and screamed in. Away from the memories.
"Where?" he asked with a sigh.
"Tampa." The house they had there wasn't as cloying as this one. "Unless you fucked her there, too."
"No. I haven't."
She wondered if there was just enough decency left in him to have kept that place sacred. Or if he just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Either way, she believed him. And if the few memories there became too much she would find somewhere else.
"Will you get a new phone before you leave?" He looked almost contrite. Rubbing the back of his neck when she looked over to him, he shrugged one shoulder. "Just so I can check on you?"
"I'll text you when I get one."
He left her alone after that – after getting another promise that she would text him – and she packed in relative peace. She heard him go downstairs and then, as she held her breath, the front door opened and closed. A sigh of relief passed her lips and she moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside just in time to see his car pull out of the drive.
It was raining. She didn't mind, though, and opened the curtains so she could see the weather that matched her mood. Several moments passed before she realized he hadn't said he loved her. Or goodbye. Fighting tears, she grabbed another suitcase and loaded it with as much as she could.
She felt as though she were moving in a foggy dream. Nothing seemed right. The usually warm and comfortable bedroom was suddenly cold and uninviting. The framed photo on the dresser, the one of them on their wedding day, mocked her with its cheery smiles and tight embrace. The untouched bedding ridiculed her for being afraid. The soft carpeting beneath her bare feet felt rough and unforgiving.
Closing her eyes as she crammed toiletries into the suitcase, she longed for the small hotel room. She wished she were still there, warm in his arms, trying not to laugh at the couple in the next room that always argued or had sex. She craved his gentle touch, his murmured words of assurance. Turning back time was impossible but she desired it more than anything.
The contents of her purse rolled across the bed and she pawed through them, tossing aside receipts and random business cards until she found the scrap of paper. It took her a moment to start up her new phone. She ignored the influx of messages, checking the time and hoping he wasn't busy.
His voice, husky with sleep, made her smile. "Yeah?"
"It's me." Her voice sounded odd and she cleared her throat. "Lizzie."
"What time is it?" he grumbled.
"Nearly eight here…" She had no idea where he was. And she felt stupid for not texting him first. "Go back to sleep, I'll—"
"Nah, I'm up now." She heard the soft chink of a lighter, then his slow exhalation. "You alright?"
"Yes… No… I don't know." Did she dare let on, even the tiniest bit, how just hearing his voice made her feel better? "I'm going to Tampa for a couple days."
"What's in Tampa?"
"The other house. Well, one of the other houses."
He exhaled again. "How many goddamn houses do y'all need?"
"I… I don't know." She began throwing things back into her purse. "I just wanted to check in. You can go back to sleep."
"When's your flight?"
She had no idea. She hadn't thought that far ahead. She told him so as she got clothes to wear. Listening to him exhale after she spoke, she felt certifiably insane for her sudden craving for a cigarette.
Or maybe she just craved him.
"Come to Vegas," he said after a moment.
"What's in Vegas?"
"Me."
Dean didn't expect her to show. He hadn't spoken to her since she'd called him that morning. One text had come from her saying she had a three hour wait before her flight. He thought of trying to call or text her a few times but refrained, telling himself that she would contact him when she could. As he tried to get some more sleep the doubts crept in. What if she'd changed her mind? What if John had changed it for her?
He hated himself for doubting her, though, especially when she called from the cab for his address. After ending the call he waited at the window, watching for her. She arrived just as clouds covered the sun.
The door was open by the time she made it upstairs. He supposed he could have gone down and helped her with her stuff, but there had been a mad dash, an attempt to straighten up, so all he could do was take the heavier suitcase and set it just inside the door.
"Hey," he greeted, reaching to take her jacket. But once his hands were on her shoulders he couldn't let go. Her purse fell to the floor, her hands caught his shirt. His lips met hers and all his doubts fled.
"Why aren't you on in Kentucky?" she mumbled when his lips moved to her throat.
Pushing her back against the door, he nipped at her skin, one hand fumbling with the locks and security chain. "Because," he grunted, grabbing her hips and yanking her up to his height, "I banged up my knee last night."
"Are you okay?" she pulled and tugged at his t-shirt.
"Never better," he promised. He reluctantly dropped his hands from her, letting her remove his shirt. Sighing as her soft fingers danced over his chest, he pressed her tighter to the door. Urgent now, he worked the buttons of her shirt, groaning in frustration when one refused to cooperate.
"Dean," she whispered, legs tightening around his waist. She pushed his hand away and seconds later the shirt was sliding down her shoulders.
"We're gonna do this right," he decided, offering a quick kiss before stepping away from the door. He squeal of surprise filled the room and he grinned, making sure her shirt and jacket hit the floor as he carried her into the bedroom.
"I didn't come here just for sex."
The words almost gave him pause, but she had purred them in his ear. The fact that she was squirming against him and tasting his earlobe propelled him. He dropped her on the bed, smirking when he saw her fall back. "But you don't want me to stop."
"Fuck no." Her shoes landed with a clatter and he paused in the unbuttoning of jeans, mesmerized by the wriggle of her hips as she pushed down her pants.
"Good. 'Cause I ain't."
She tossed her pants aside. Her panties were next, a small scrap of green lace that floated through the air. Sitting up, she removed her bra quickly. Her hand brushed over his, then took over and unbuttoned his jeans. Her lips less than an inch from his, she slipped one hand inside. "Your phone?"
"On vibrate in the living room," he whispered, catching her bottom lip between his. Suckling gently, he put a hand over hers, urging it to move just a little faster. She gave a little moan. "Yours?"
"Pretty sure I turned it off in the cab." Her hand moved, grabbing his jeans and pushing them down.
"I knew you were smart," he muttered, dropping his lips to her shoulder. Breathing in her scent, he pushed a hand through her hair and grabbed a handful, pulling her head gently to the side so he could explore the curve of her neck.
She hadn't come for sex, but she responded to his touch in a way that made him think sex had been on her mind. He heard every sigh, every moan; he felt every shiver. Her hands were on him, touching everyplace she could reach, and the burn of desire grew prominent. Palming her breasts, he nuzzled the spot behind her ear. He came very close to throwing her down so he could just fuck her into oblivion. Then one hand slid up to lie against his cheek, and she whispered his name.
Easing her back on the bed, he followed, refusing to take his lips from her. Smooth legs tangled with his, keeping him close. Propping up on one elbow, he tilted his head to place a kiss on the inside of her wrist. A random decision, but when her eyes sparked and her lips pulled into a sweet smile he did it again.
He lost track of time while exploring her body. He marveled over each new discovery. Kissing the freckles on her shoulder made her giggle. The light touch of his thumb to her hip brought out a pleased hum. Rolling his tongue over her nipples caused her back to arch and her nails to dig into his shoulders.
Her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat by the time his mouth had made its way to her thighs. The room seemed to crackle with electricity; he glanced up to find her watching him. Smirking, he nudged her legs further apart.
She screamed as soon as his tongue found her clit. He tightened his grip on her thighs, surprised at their strength. Forcing his tongue to move slowly, he teased her clit until she began to writhe. Just when he was sure she was about to cum, he lifted his head, watching the panicked expression as he replaced his tongue with his thumb. The panic washed away and he licked his lips.
Later, he'd eat her until she came over and over. He'd make damn sure she got caught up on all the missed orgasms.
Now, though, he needed to be inside her. He remembered vividly how she had clenched and shuddered around his fingers and needed that. He needed her to cum around him, to experience the screams in his ear, the nails down his back.
Elizabeth wanted to sob when Dean moved away. Covering her face with shaking hands, she drew in several deep breaths in an attempt to calm her overheated body. She barely felt him move, but heard his grunt. Opening her mouth to ask what was wrong, she instead gasped at the feel of his mouth on her throat.
"Did you really think I was gonna leave you high and dry?" he asked, lightly patting her thighs. Almost by instinct they hooked around his waist.
"You bastard," she groaned, though it gave way to a whimper when he reached between their bodies. Arching at the feel of his cock probing her entrance, she grabbed his shoulders.
"Question," he muttered, teeth grazing her neck as he held himself still.
"I'm on the Pill," she promised.
"Good to know, but that wasn't my question." With painstaking slowness he leaned back to look at her. "Not even a question, really. More of a warning, if you will."
Arching a brow, she flattened her palms against his chest. "Do you have some weird kink?"
"What? No," he assured, making a face. "Hell of a time to bring this up, but I tend to be a bit rough."
She relaxed. Having feared the worst, she now smiled and leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm not going to break, Dean," she murmured.
"Just don't freak out on me," he requested. "I've waited so long to have you," he added softly, one hand tangling in her hair. "I'm not gonna be able to stop."
"I don't want you to," she whispered, forehead dropping to his shoulder. The hand on her thigh flexed and before she could brace herself he was inside her. She gave a shuddering cry, tried to grab hold of him. The tiniest of moans vibrated in his throat; she felt his body go tense as he held still.
"Fuck," he growled, pulling on her hair until she lifted her head. His eyes, blazing, searched hers. She gave a shaky nod, finally managing to grasp his biceps.
Her lips parted to speak but he covered them, his tongue stroking hers. She held on, her craving for him becoming feverish. Crying out in relief when he began to move, she tightened her legs around his waist.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, a soft echo to his relentless thrusts. Her body became sticky with their sweat. His hands were everywhere. Caressing, grasping, tugging. Each time she thought her body could twist no more he coaxed her further. Nails dragged down her sides, then down her spine.
The orgasm he'd earlier denied hit her by surprise. She was certain she saw flashes of light flickering in the window right before her head fell back. Pure ecstasy caught her, clenching and wringing out a scream. Strong hands caught hers and held on. Pinned to the bed, all she could do was cry out as her body tried to writhe.
He continued to hold her down, his hot breath fanning over her throat. His grip on her hands tightened, and in the midst of her high she became aware of him throbbing within her. Growling her name, he pushed her further into the mattress, biting down on her shoulder. The stinging pain only intensified her pleasure.
Dean stayed over her, her leg trapped between them, her upper body twisted. Struggling to draw a clear breath she turned her head, moaning at the feel of his lips brushing her cheek. Able to feel the pound of his heart against her arm, she managed to pull one hand free of his and reach to hold onto him.
Thunder rumbled, closer now, and she lazily looked to the window to see the dark clouds that covered the sky. Whining when he began to slide away, she dropped her leg. She shifted around, guided by the gentle hand on her waist, and met his gaze in the growing darkness.
He kissed her. Once, twice, three times. With a soft groan he rolled onto his back. Elizabeth sighed at the loss of his warmth, only to smile when he quickly drew her over him. Sprawled atop him, a million things she wanted to say starting to burn in her mind, she dropped a kiss on his chest.
His arms, heavy and warm and reminding her of their nights in the motel, came around her. Electing to stay silent, she tilted her head back for his kiss.