Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Warning: This section rated M…to be safe. Addison gets to third base.
Oh, and this is slightly epic.
How It Started
Actually, it all started with cherry popsicles.
It was a spring Tuesday afternoon and, and Mark and Addison had decided to go running to the park.
She thought she'd be okay, as she ran pretty consistently throughout her life, even training for a couple half-marathons. But she struggled to keep up with him.
He set the bar high, and though her legs were just as long as his, her long lean features couldn't carry her as fast. She was huffing and puffing by the time they got there.
Her back slammed against a cool metal pole in a secluded section of the park, away from the busy playground and basketball courts. He braced his knees and offered her his water bottle.
She took it, sucking down the semi-warm water, her saving grace. "Why is it so fucking hot in April?!" she groaned.
"Watch your mouth." He glared mockingly and laughed. "It's not that hot, it's humid." He placed his hand on the slick skin of her arm.
She shrugged it off. "No more body heat than necessary, please."
"Sorry." He smiled, "So you don't want to do another lap right now?"
"Very funny." Her legs bent until she fell over and her knees crunched into the pavement. She rolled over and crawled to the grass.
Mark spotted an ice cream stand across the street. "I'll be right back."
"Okay." She hugged her legs to her chest and tried not to throw up.
When he came back, two popsicles in hand, she was sitting on a swing, lazily twirling around. "Oh!" Her eyes lit up as she took the popsicle from him. "Yum. Thanks." The cold ice slid down her throat and she licked the juice off. Why is he so nice to me?.
Mark watched her, forgetting about his own popsicle, dripping down his fingers. When he remembered to breathe, he slurped off a chunk of it and sat down in the other swing.
She began to move her swing sideways and he followed her lead, bumping their hips together. He held out his popsicle to her lips. "Try it."
Why? "They're the same flavor!" she pointed out. He was so cute, smiling as if he would never want to be anywhere else. He looked like he was wearing lipstick, from all the contact with the red popsicle. She was sure her lips were the same way. Embarrassed, she swiped at them and twisted her body awkwardly. One of her legs tangled with his. His rough, muscled skin felt wonderful against hers.
"Hey!" He slid his knee between her thighs and she squeezed her legs together so he wouldn't move. With his free hand, he grabbed one of the ropes of her swing and insisted, "Try it."
She darted her tongue out to lick it. "It's the same."
"Let me try yours," he implored, opening his mouth.
"Don't bite it." She wanted it to last longer, gently placing it in his mouth and pulling it out slowly. He curved his lips tightly around it, and she felt his tongue pressing against it. Before she knew it, her pelvis rocked forward against his knee. God, this is humiliating. She was hot anyway, and the area between her legs must have been burning him. He resisted a smirk, moving his knee a little, egging her on. She whimpered. It's not fair, but- oh- keep doing it just like that. She wanted to move against him until she felt some kind of release. Biting her lip, she painfully pulled her legs apart, letting his thigh move freely.
He almost complained, and then grinned, "If we were in third grade, I'd say we just french-kissed."
"What?" She couldn't think clearly yet.
"We swapped saliva with our popsicles," he explained as he playfully spun around in circles.
"Very clever," she remarked. Suddenly, she missed his leg between hers, and attempted to capture it again. "I never french-kissed anyone in third grade though."
Mark shrugged, "What else is there to do?" She pushed him away, horrified. "I'm kidding." He caught her leg with his knees, hiking up his shorts a little.
"No, Mark." She scolded him like he was a small child, and kicked his leg. All the friction between her thighs was arousing enough; she wouldn't be able to stand feeling him. "You're sweaty."
"You are too." He pulled on her swing again, bringing her nearer, and throwing her legs over his side. "I like you sweaty."
"I don't." I feel disgusting. She hit him on the shoulder, but forgot that her popsicle was in her hand, thus leaving a cherry red slash across his face. It almost seemed dangerous for a second, streaking his cheek like blood.
He reacted quickly, though she was already squirming out of her swing. She tripped on something and he caught her, pinning her against a nearby tree, and marking her on the cheek.
She gasped when he licked it off. What is he doing? "Mark."
"Mmmm..." He repeated the process with her nose. "This is pretty delicious. Much better than just licking it off the stick."
She shivered and struggled against the hand holding both of her wrists against the tree above her head. "Let me go."
"No. You'll run away." He slid the popsicle over her jaw line, following it with his tongue.
"I won't," she implored innocently. She couldn't run away. Her entire body felt numb and much too relaxed, and her arms became tired from being held above her head. "The bark is scratching my wrists."
He dropped her hands immediately and waited, curious when she actually didn't run away from him. He dragged the popsicle along her neck and she tilted her head in the opposite direction. He licked from her shoulder to her collar bone and then handed her the popsicle.
She took it, holding it in the air to keep it from getting dirty, while absentmindedly sucking on her own.
His tongue lapped the trail of sugary liquid on her neck and then he wrapped his arms all the way around her back. His lips covered a particularly tasty patch of skin, applying a light suction and letting his tongue run over it every once in a while.
"Don't give me a hickey," she warned.
In response, he sucked as hard as he could.
"Seriously, Mark. Quit it." She shoved him away, rubbing the tender spot on her neck. She hadn't experienced that in years, and she certainly didn't want to any time soon. Going to work with evidence that she might actually be getting laid would not be professional at all. Misleading, too. "Derek's going to notice." Along with everyone else in the hospital.
"So what?" Mark joined his hand with hers on her neck. "He won't care."
"Yes, he will!" And then he would ask how she got it and she would have to lie and Addison was horrible at lying.
"If Derek asks about this teeny-tiny mark on you, I will give you a thousand dollars," he said, cockily.
Now that she thought about it, Addison wasn't sure if Derek would notice or not. She hadn't even seen him for a week, and if that continued, it would definitely give her enough time to heal and Mark enough time to win a thousand dollars. Well, she would make sure to see him, fair game or not. The hard part would be getting him to take off her clothes. "What if he doesn't notice? Do I have to give you a thousand dollars?"
"No..." he smiled and leaned against the tree. "I'm sure I'll think of something else you can do for me."
She didn't want to think about the obvious sexual implications, instead opting to hold up the popsicles to his face. "Which one is mine?" she asked with a mischievous grin. It was almost a joke; they appeared exactly the same, one a little larger than the other. She'd been holding them in one hand, so they overlapped, mixing their saliva.
He picked the large one hand and headed back to the swing set.
Impulsively, her hand shot out and the popsicle struck him on the shoulder.
He stopped, waiting for her.
It was all or nothing now, and she was tired of being alone. She came up behind him, rested her cheek against his damp upper back, and her tongue flitted out of her lips onto his skin. He tasted salty at first, and then she made contact with the sweet cherry juice. Forgetting inhibition, she moved to grip his torso, and close her lips over his smooth opened her mouth and nuzzled him. Her fingers stuck to his bicep, making it difficult for them to move, though it didn't matter anymore- they were effectively covered in each other's sweat, saliva, and leftover popsicle juice.
With the last of her popsicle, Addison drew circles on Mark's back, lining the hem of his t-shirt. She gave a fleeting thought to the stain it might leave as she stood on the balls of her feet, and with the tip of her tongue, licked it off.
He turned around, breathing rapidly, and lead her to a picnic table. He sat down in one fluid motion, pulling her into his lap, and smudging her lips with the popsicle.
She pulled her lip between her teeth the first time, cleaning herself, but he stubbornly held the popsicle against her mouth until she let him do it, softly brushing his tongue over her lips.
After a few times of this, he dropped the popsicle and slipped his tongue in her mouth for a split-second. "Come here." He opened his mouth and covered her lips. His tongue darted out, touching hers this time and licking her lips again.
His lips were rough and kind of chapped, but she liked it. She curled up on his lap and rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at him. Their lips touched once more, and then she said, "That's enough."
"What?" His hand snuck up her shorts, tickling her thigh.
If only he would touch her where his knee had pressed against her earlier. He's good at this, I have to remember. He does this to every woman. I am not special. "Oh," she moaned.
"Where?" He moved higher, consciously teasing her. Her hand fell over his through the fabric of her shorts. She attempted to push him away, but found herself unable. She was sensitive and horny and his fingers...so close. "Stop." He had to, or else they wouldn't be able to stop. If she was doubting her self-control, he wasn't even going to try to resist the sexual tension. "That's enough for today."
"Why?" He removed his fingers slowly.
"I can't cheat," she knew, though it was only a flicker in the back of her mind.
He rubbed his lips and his voice shook, "But you already cheated. We already kissed. It's done." He watched her with hopeful eyes.
How can he be so cutthroat like that? She thought he would at least hesitate to interpret what they've done. Did it technically constitute cheating if it was only a kiss? "Don't you care about Derek at all?"
"I can't lie to him and I'm not going to live in denial." he said, straightforward and honest. "Derek will understand."
"No." She snapped out of the dreamland of popsicles and kisses; reality hit her like running into a brick wall. "Please don't tell Derek. I won't do it again."
"Addison." He cupped her jaw with one hand and circled her wrist with the other. "If you promise never to say that again, I won't ever tell Derek."
"Okay," she took a deep breath. It's okay. Derek won't know. She wanted to forget about it, except the kiss kept flashing back into her mind.
"Don't feel guilty." He paused, "But I'm taking a huge risk." He laced his fingers on her hip. "I don't know if you're going to leave me, or him. I don't know what this is."
"I won't leave you," she assured. But I can't leave him either. "I need you. I just- I'd be so lost and lonely. And I like you."
"I don't know that."
She wanted him to say that he'd still love her no matter what. No matter if she couldn't leave her husband or if she couldn't ever reciprocate her feelings. It was her most selfish thought yet, especially since she wasn't the most trustable woman in the world. She knew it was reasonable that he was worried. She hoped they weren't falling for each other, but, at the same time, she wanted to love him without any other complex feelings. "Why don't we just play it casual? Go with the flow?"
"So, not worry that I'm screwing my best friend over?"
It did sound ridiculous. Maybe I'm asking too much.
He smiled, "Hey. No one suppresses feelings like I do."
"Really?"
"That's what my shrink says."
She kissed him again, and shifted in his lap. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Let's go back to my place."
"Nothing can happen." She knew he was expecting to get laid, and she just couldn't give that to him.
"Okay, Addison." He ran his fingers through his hair as she stood up, and hesitantly offered her hand to him.
He took it happily, and kissed her cheek. "Thanks."
It was so easy to please him, perhaps too easy. They walked back to his apartment in silence, in reflection of the decisions they made.
She stepped into his apartment, his breath on her neck, "You know, Mark-"
He kissed her hard against the wall before kicking the door shut. Their tongues slid together and she couldn't keep her hands off of him. They had to be touching everywhere. He's so damn hot. I hate it, but I haven't felt like this in such along time. Is that an excuse? "God, Mark." He pressed his mouth down her neck and over her chest, and his hands trailed up her ribs, just below her breasts.
"No. Stop," she shook her head helplessly.
"Come...bedroom." His hands curved around to her backside and tugged her towards him.
"I told you. Nothing can happen." Her words posed a weak argument against her restless hips. She'd never thought Mark would take it this far. She couldn't believe that his desire for her outweighed his epic friendship with Derek. Mark was always a bit of a nymphophilic, but not to this extent. She wasn't worth it.
He lead her to the bedroom, just staring at her, dipped his hand under the elastic of her shorts and played with her panties.
"No," she said softly.
"I need to touch you," he murmured as he lightly caressed her.
She could do nothing but cling to him, frozen. It was nerve-wrecking, the way he wanted her. Her stomach flopped over and over again. "Please, Mark?"
"Shhh..." He laid her on the bed, and slipped off her shoes. "Let's get these sweaty clothes off of you." He kneeled between her legs, lifting her tank-top up and biting her abdomen lightly.
It tickled her and she accidentally laughed. He took it as a cue to pull the tank-top over her head, leaving her in only a bra.
She squeaked and hid under the covers.
He touched her lump of a body through the comforter. "What are you doing?"
"I don't want to have sex with you," she told him, slightly muffled through the covers.
"Why not?" He didn't sound mad, just surprised.
She figured that it probably had never happened before. He was Mark Sloan. Everyone wanted to have sex with him. And everyone does have sex with him. Who am I to reject Mark anyway? He's a sex god. "I'm embarrassed," she confessed, pulling down the blanket to reveal only her face, "and it's cheating."
"Do you want me to get naked first?" She watched him peel off his shirt, and then his shorts and underwear.
She closed her eyes, not ready to see him in the flesh, though she'd been imagining it for years.
"Addison, open your eyes."
She knew he was standing right in front of her, completely exposed and vulnerable. Then again, he had a lot more experience and confidence than she did at the moment. He was probably posing for her, just to make her laugh, but she couldn't look. It would change everything. "I can't." She covered her eyes to reinforce the point.
"Then scoot over," he commanded.
She did, struggling without her hands to shift her body, and he climbed in next to her. She felt his bare leg against hers, warm and strong. "You can look now."
She cracked her eyes open and calmed to see that he was fully under the covers.
"Feel better?" He reached under the sheets and grabbed her hand, kissing it and bringing it to his chest. She rolled the skin of her fingertips over him and he moved her hand lower to his smooth abdomen and stomach. She studied his excited expression and reached further down.
The smallest wisp of thick hair brushed her knuckles and she jumped back. Jesus. He really wants me to touch him. I can't believe I almost- "I'm so sorry. I don't mean to be such a tease." I can't even get him off properly. She covered her eyes again.
"No." He kissed her shoulder, letting out a breath. "That was good. I mean, you don't even need to…" His fingers dove into her shorts again, this time sliding them off. Her legs twisted together in mortification.
He sat up to take them all the way off, letting the sheet fall off of both of them. "Addison. Relax."
"I just-" she rolled over on her side so she didn't have to look at him. "You're sitting in front of me naked, and – not to feed your ego or anything- you're really good at this. I haven't had sex in months, and I think I've lost something. I'm not like you." I'm not sexual anymore. Maybe I'm going through early menopause. That's depressing.
"What the hell are you talking about? You're the sexiest person I know." He laid back down and traced her back with his fingers. "You turn me on every second that I look at you."
It took her a minute to remember to breathe. No one had ever spoken to her like that, not even Derek. She almost believed him. "You say that to everyone," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes just in case he really felt that way. She reached back and made sure he was all covered up before turning around to face him. He probably even has a little speech memorized to get girls into bed. But it didn't seem like this before we knew how we felt about each other.
He smirked, "Obviously you've never seen yourself eat a popsicle." He pushed her legs open and shoved his thigh between hers. "Geez, it's like watching porn."
She'd been leading him on the whole day and she never realized it. Of course, it was sensual, but cherry popsicles could hardly be considered an aphrodisiac.
He must have noticed her blank stare, because he followed the porn comment by saying, "Seriously, though, I've never felt like this before with anyone else. I know if we could be together, it would be amazing."
It seemed so contrived, but she wanted it to be the truth. She had no reason to doubt him; he was, in fact, more honest than her. "You want to have sex with me?"
"Yes," he clarified, as he pulled her in for a deep kiss, pushing her bra out of the way.
He didn't love her and she wasn't any different from all the other whores he dated. He probably makes everyone feel like this. Finally she could understand why the nurses called him a 'mantrap'. There wasn't any point anymore to making an effort. So she let him hover on top of her, ignoring everything that she felt, especially the lump in the back of her throat. She rested her hands on his neck, pushing his head down so he couldn't see her indifferent expression.
"Can I take this off?" He snapped her bra string.
"No," she used her most monotonous voice, just wanting to get it over with.
He felt her up anyway. "What about these?" He cupped her between the legs, smiling at her damp underwear.
"Don't touch that." She kneed his hand away.
"Can I touch anything?" he muttered sarcastically.
She didn't bother to answer. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was annoyed with her, instead of being completely consumed by her presence, like he claimed.
He kissed her and reached down to spread her legs, but her knees remained locked together.
She knew she couldn't do it, but she didn't know how to tell him.
"Open up for me." He wedged his hand between her legs and attempted to pry them apart.
"I can't cheat on my husband," she told him once more. If he doesn't understand this now, he's never going to give up.
"Fine." In less than a second, he was out of the bed, putting his clothes on.
"I'm sorry," she stood up, finally apathetic to her lack of proper apparel. "I want to, but I can't. I want to spend time with you, doing things with you, but not this. I haven't felt like myself lately and-"
He shut her up by kissing her without agenda. She held onto his t-shirt, forcing her tongue deeper into his mouth when she realized that he was going to leave her. "Take a shower," he whispered against her lips, "I'll be back."
She still felt his phantom lips against her after he left.
She waited- took a shower like he suggested, made a sandwich, and started a movie, trying to ignore the fact that Mark was out there, screwing another woman and enjoying it. I have to stop thinking about it. I must be the most desperate woman on the planet.
After a couple of hours, the doorbell ran. That's weird. Why would he wring the doorbell at his own house? She shrugged it off, glad he was home and ready to apologize profusely.
She opened then door, and, at the sight of her husband, cursed.
At least he seemed as shocked as she was. "Addie? What are you doing here?"
Her mouth hung open, and she stuttered inaudibly.
"You hang out with Mark?" He peered in at the apartment.
She nodded, scared. He's going to be mad and he's going to yell at me and I can't believe I got us into this big mess.
Derek invited himself in and she shut the door. He stared at her strangely and the shook his head, snapping out of his trance. "Well, hi." He held his arms open.
No yelling? He really trusts me. She took very small steps into his arms.
He hugged her. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Yeah, it's been a week. He probably didn't even know. It could have been a day, a month. His life would be the same without her.
He leaned back to look at her. "You smell like Mark. Did you take a shower?" He patted her slightly damp hair.
"Y-yes," she managed to sputter out. "I went for a run and couldn't make it back home so Mark let me crash here."
"Oh." He twisted around, confused. "And where is he?"
"On a date," she replied as nonchalantly as possible, although she had to admit that the thought of Mark with another woman made her angry. But she couldn't do anything about that.
"Of course," Derek laughed. "And he left you here all alone?"
"Yeah," she smiled sardonically. "Apparently, she was really hot."
"Hotter than you? No way!" He snuck his arm around her.
"I know," she said much less enthusiastically. She walked back into the living room, and curled up on the couch.
He followed her. "Do you live here?" he asked, gesturing to the room, partly joking, partly anxious.
Yes. "No. It was just for today.
"Well, I guess I wouldn't know. I haven't slept at the brownstone in a week." He sat down next to her and played with the corner of the blanket.
"I know." Because she stayed there until nine o'clock every night before coming back to Mark's.
"Yeah. Sorry. I missed you too," He moved closer to her.
"Right." She kept her eyes trained on the television screen.
"What's that?" He ran his finger along her neck.
It tingled and stung. Shit. "Got hit by a tennis ball." What? I don't even play tennis!
"Ouch." He placed his lips lightly over it.
Ew. This is so wrong. "Yeah. It hurt."
"Who'd you play with?"
"Some girl at the gym."
"What's her-" he stopped himself, much to her relief. "I guess it doesn't really matter." He laughed a little, "I didn't even know you played tennis."
Well, at least you know something about me. "Yeah. I just started. It's fun."
"Maybe we could play together sometime?" He awkwardly brought his hand up to rub the base of her neck.
"I don't know." She was giving him the cold shoulder, even though it wasn't his fault. She resented his presence in the place that she shared with Mark.
He paused, "So- tennis and running all in one day? You trying to get fit or something?"
"I guess." I really need to get better at lying.
He placed a hand on her stomach. "Did you eat anything?"
"What?" What kind of question is that?
"What did you have for lunch?"
Crap. She ate lunch with Mark. At the café on fifth. But she couldn't remember exactly what she had. "I…um..."
He stood up and paced the room. "Addison!"
She knew she was in trouble when he didn't use her nickname. "What?" What did I do?
"I can't do this right now." He pointed at her. "I'm already stressed out and I don't need you developing an eating disorder-"
"I do not have an eating disorder!" She exclaimed from the couch. For a moment, she thought about not correcting him. It would be easier than the truth, and he probably wouldn't care all that much. But she couldn't do that to him. "Seriously, Derek?! It takes most people a few seconds to remember what they had for lunch. And I had a salad, in case you were wondering. And for dinner, I made a sandwich. You can still see the crumbs if you want to! They're in the kitchen."
"Well-" He couldn't come up with anything else, so he gave up. "Okay. I'm watching you, though."
"Okay…" Addison left the room, the conversation reminding her that she had forgotten to clean up her plate.
As the hot soapy water washed over her fingers, she felt Derek behind her. "Sorry."
She glanced back at him. "It's all right." Although the plate was clean, she held her hands under the water for a little too long. When she pulled them out, they were red, the color of red popsicles, and she could feel the blood pulsing through them.
"I feel like I'm missing something, and I'm doing everything I can to find it. You're different and I don't know what it is." He cleared his throat and leaned against the counter next to her. "Of course, I've been staring at your back the whole night, so that might be the problem."
"That's not the problem." She turned off the faucet and pulled the drain plug out. "And it's not an eating disorder either. So stop trying to blame something else."
He crossed his arms. "What are you trying to tell me, Addison? Because apparently you have something to say."
She glared at him for the first time that night, nostrils flaring. "I'm just saying that you need to figure out what your problem is." She stomped back into the living room.
He shouted out to her from the kitchen. "My problem is that my wife keeps running away from me!"
She popped her head in the doorway. "Very good. I can fix that." She smiled slyly and leaned against the refrigerator. "What else?"
He groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I really don't want to do this now."
"But I want you to," she said persuasively. The stainless steel against her back cooled more than her temper.
He looked out the window. "I don't know. I suppose I have a problem with you staying here."
"Suppose?" She raised her eyebrow.
"I do. I don't want you to stay here." He dug his palms into the edge of the counter as he stood opposite her.
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his stubble. Scratchy. "Now tell me how you're going to fix it."
"Let's go home." He looked away, surprising uninterested.
"I'm staying here." She had to wait for Mark to get home from his 'date'.
"Then what's the point?!" he yelled.
"Maybe you should just go back to the hospital." It was the exact opposite of everything she had strived for in the past month, but Derek couldn't be here when Mark got home.
"I'm not going back to the hospital without you." He gripped her hips firmly, holding his ground.
"Why?" Why did he suddenly care? He only wanted her some of the time, only when it was convenient. "Why are you here?" He was ruining everything. If she could prove that he was completely, irrevocably indifferent, maybe her feelings for Mark would be justified and she could get rid of the guilt that'd been residing in her chest for days.
"Because I want to see you," he offered.
"You didn't know I was here."
He paused to think. "I'm sorry about that. Mark's just been pissed lately, and I promised I'd make some more time. But he's not here." He twisted of her flyaway hairs with his fingers and leaned in closer, as if to kiss her. "I'm so glad you are, though."
She sucked in a breath, letting it out over his lips. "Really?" He turned her into a bashful med student again, like when they'd met. She loved him, always would.
"Mmm-hmm," He knew he had her, pinning her against the refrigerator.
She couldn't do anything except stare at him. It was a spell she'd thought herself immune to, but apparently he still had moves that worked for her. And after ten years, that counted for something. She could only hope that he felt the same way about her.
"Want to take this back to the brownstone?" He smiled suggestively.
She thought of Mark, suddenly turned off. "Oh. Not yet, okay?" She pushed Derek back a reasonable distance and straightened up. "I want to make sure Mark gets home."
"He's going to come home with her," Derek pointed out. "And that's going to be weird and gross when he finds us here."
"He won't bring her home. He knows I'm here," she said confidently. Mark wouldn't do that to her. "Wanna finish the movie?" She took his hand and lead him back into the living room.
They sat down on the couch together and Derek put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against his chest. He smelled like the hospital, but she didn't care. They both weren't really watching the movie- she'd forgotten to pause it before and neither of them had the energy to find the remote and restart it. They needed to think.
So it was about halfway through the movie when Addison found herself unable to believe that she'd almost cheated on Derek. Even Mark's lips on her neck seemed to surreal to be true. Now, being with Derek and having to sit near him and talk to him made her infinitely certain of her decision.
She looked up at Derek and wondered what he was thinking about.
She found out few seconds later when his hand cupped her breast. Wow. I must look HOT today. "Whatcha doing?" She winked at him and took his hand.
"Making out with my gorgeous wife." He turned them and pressed her into the couch.
Her eyes widened as he kissed her. Can't. Can't have sex here. She shoved his shoulders a little and he lifted himself up to breathe. "Just wait for another hour. Then we'll leave."
"Now. I want you know." His lips pulled at hers again.
This is a little icky. I just kissed Mark. But it's never happening again, she made herself promise as she pushed his thick curly hair back. She loved his hair. "Mark's going to come home soon."
"Oh come on, it's only ten. It'll be at least another hour."
A flash of deja-vu washed over her as he pulled her t-shirt over her head. "But he left at four."
"Addie," he said calmly. "Mark has had sex at our house lots of times. He owes us. And I don't even remember the last time I had sex. But if you don't want to, that's okay too.
She paused to think. It was true what he said about Mark. And if Mark was out having sex with some random girl, she could have sex with her husband.
But not in Mark's apartment. Not in our place. "I know. I really miss you too. I just thought we could have a bit of foreplay here, and then, by the time we get to the brownstone, we'll be so hot for each other that it'll just be incredible."
"It's always incredible. No matter where we are." He kissed her stomach. "But I'm liking this foreplay idea."
"Yeah?" She slipped her t-shirt on.
"Hey!" He snuck his hands back up her shirt, as if he was afraid not to touch her.
"Sorry. I just don't want to get caught without any clothes on." Mark had seen enough of her already. She tried making it up to him by sliding her hands down his pants.
He groaned and pressed his face into her chest. "I've forgotten how good that feels."
That soothed her self-conscious fears about not being attractive enough for him. She smiled as she continued to pleasure him.
They heard the door open.
"Fuck you, Mark." Derek muttered under his breath.
Addison jumped up, removing her hands. "Derek, get off." Mark can't see this. Why do I feel like I'm cheating on him?
He didn't move fast enough. Mark stepped in and caught Derek lying limp against her, feeling her up.
Addison held her hands up, as if she'd had nothing to do with it, but it couldn't take away the painfully hurt look in his eyes.
"Nice, Addison." Mark glanced her up and down with a disapproving stare. He took off for his bedroom.
"Derek!" She shrieked and hit him hard.
"I'm halfway hard and I can't move." He lifted himself up on his arms. "Give me a minute."
She slid out from under him and rushed into the bedroom. "I'm sorry."
"You made my bed." Mark stood, staring at it.
"Yeah. I needed something to do." She pulled her shorts down from where they'd ridden up and crossed her arms.
"So you called Derek?" he snarled.
She moved closer to him and whispered, "You left me because I wouldn't have sex with you."
"I left you because you wouldn't commit to me." His face reddened and his lips curled over his teeth. "Guess I was right."
"I just- I don't know, Mark." She shoved her fingers into her hair and pulled. "When I'm with only you, I want to be with you. And when I'm with Derek, I forget about you and those feelings."
"What about now, with both of us here?" He removed her hands from her hair and smoothed it back.
"I'm torn." That's all she felt. Ripped into two pieces that couldn't function. "Can't you understand how hard this is for me?"
"Maybe," He nodded. "Can't you understand how hard it is for me to picture you two together? And then seeing it…"
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "He's insatiable, like someone else I know." She stared at him pointedly
"But you can't say no to him." He frowned, and took a deep breath. "I'm surprised you didn't get knocked up in college, with your lack of willpower."
"My willpower is just fine," she asserted. "And, before Derek, I didn't get too many offers anyway."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true."
Derek entered, combing his hair with his fingers. "Sorry 'bout that, Mark. What's up? Where's your date?"
"Date?" Mark fumbled momentarily, "Oh- that girl I left in the bathroom of the club?" He smirked. "What are you doing here?" He instinctively moved closer to Addison.
Derek looked between the two of them as he explained, "I came to make sure you weren't still mad about last Friday. I know I haven't been around…" He reached for Addison's hand possessively. "Addison told me that you two have been hanging out lately."
"Yeah, we watch movies together," Mark said coolly, holding his arms tight against his chest.
Derek pressed into Addison's side and she knew that Mark was jealous. But he didn't need to make the situation any worse. They were all so physically close and tense that Addison could feel Mark's chest tighten against her arm.
Derek squeezed her hand extra hard when he spoke, "I didn't realize…"
The room fell silent. Both men watched Addison carefully.
Derek cleared his throat. "Let's watch a movie together, all three of us."
"It's kind of something that just Addison and I do." Mark looked down at the floor.
Addison smacked a hand against her forehead. It was too bold of Mark to say that, though she was secretly glad he did. Derek didn't belong in Mark and Addison movie nights, as much as she wanted to see him.
"So I'm not invited?" Derek asked her, disbelief evident in his voice.
She didn't say anything and instead looked away, refusing to face them.
"I was just kidding, man." He punched Derek on the shoulder. "Of course, you can come."
Derek chuckled lightly, still in shock. "You scared me there for a second."
"Yeah?" Mark glanced at Addison, who was frozen and confused against Derek.
Derek dropped her hand. "Yeah."
"Next weekend, okay?" Mark winked and Addison had to wonder what he was up to. He made a move as if to leave his bedroom, but he held the door open for Derek, letting him pass first. He placed a hand on Addison's hip, whispering, "Any chance I can get you alone before you leave?"
Derek heard the mutterings and turned around. Addison rushed behind him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. He crinkled his forehead, "Did you say something?"
Addison pointed at Mark. "I was just telling him that we probably wouldn't be able to stay the night." She raised her eyebrows to make sure that Mark understood.
He nodded. "Yep. Just wanted to know if I should make another booty call or not."
Derek laughed, "Mark…some things never change."
Mark shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Well, you know, with the right girl I might settle down."
"Never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth." Derek mocked concern, "Is something wrong?"
"People can change," Mark claimed as he looked directly at Addison, desperately trying to convince her of his feelings.
"But not tonight, right?" Addison hugged her arms close to her body. He would still make the call and sleep with that random girl who wasn't her.
Derek noticed their seemingly coded language. "I'm really going to have to start hanging out more. I'm not getting any of these inside jokes."
Addison pretended to be happy with her husband, snuggling up to him. "I guess we don't even realize it." She looked at Mark, not knowing what kind of game they were playing. She didn't want to hurt him by being with Derek, and he didn't want to hurt her by sleeping with other women. But they still did it to protect themselves.
"Let's go, Addie." Derek headed towards the door. She followed backing slowly away from Mark with apologetic eyes.
Mark opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. She was nearly out the door when he grabbed her arm, completely jarring her.
"What are you doing? I can't stay!" She yanked her arm away, ready to slap him. He's getting carried away- obsessive at the thought of screwing his best friend's wife.
"Don't sleep with him," he pleaded. "You don't have to."
What? What does that mean? She should want to sleep with her husband. She wanted to ask him about it, but Derek was already halfway to the elevator.
Mark leaned forward to kiss her goodbye.
She ducked out of the way and ran to Derek.
A/N: This is soooo long. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm super sick. So, next time, Addison is going to be super sick because misery loves company.
I drew a lot of parallels in this chapter. I like doing that. Hopefully, there won't be so much Addek in the next chapters. I don't know why but I keep going back to them. Well, if there is any Addek, Derek is going to be a big jerk.
Review please! It helps with the motivation.