CHAPTER THREE

I opened my eyes reluctantly and immediately saw myself in the wall of mirrors at the side of the room. At once my heart began to race and my stomach filled with a knot of nerves as I realised where I was. I glanced over my shoulder at Paul, still sleeping flat on his back, the sheet thrown off and only covering his feet. His chest rose and fell steadily and his morning erection lay hard against his belly. I looked away quickly and sat up, wincing at the soreness in my ass.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I felt sick with myself, just as I knew I would. Why had I let this happen again? Why had I gone to him so willingly in that club last night? I kept on doing this to myself - to Leah - and I was furious at my lack of control. I promised to love Leah and be faithful to her ten years ago and here I was once again, breaking my vows for a couple of hours of pleasure. I could have walked away, I just hadn't wanted to. I'd wanted him, knowing exactly how I was going to feel about it later, and why the hell had I fallen asleep?

I rose quickly, looking for my clothes, wondering what my chances were of getting dressed and getting out of there before he woke up. Slim to none - my bladder was bursting and I would have to pay a visit to the bathroom first, which would likely disturb him. I grabbed shorts, socks, shirt and jeans and crept into the bathroom, closing the door quietly, my heart banging urgently as I contemplated sneaking out like the coward I was when I could quite possibly come into contact with him again in the future through FitWorx and end up feeling like a complete fool.

I used the toilet, washed my face and rinsed out my mouth, then dressed quickly, not bothering with a shower. I would do that back at the hotel when I had clean clothes to put on. I finished up and cautiously opened the door, immediately faced with Paul sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Hey." He looked up at me with a grin. "Going already?"

"Uh...yeah, I need to get back to the hotel and check out; my flight's at noon," I said, glancing at the clock and seeing with some relief that it wasn't yet eight-thirty.

"You want some coffee first?"

"Well...I...um...should get going."

"Fair enough." He got to his feet and stretched, drawing my reluctant eyes to his impressive chest and he shot me another grin before he headed into the bathroom. I averted my eyes determinedly and looked at his reflection in the mirrors instead as he left the door open, leaning over the toilet with a hand braced on the wall, awkwardly angling his semi-hard cock downwards. Damnit, even watching him take a piss excited me. I grabbed my shoes, took a quick look around to make sure I hadn't left anything and checked my pocket for phone, wallet and the key card to my hotel room. I stepped out of the room and hovered in the hallway, thinking I should probably at least wait to say goodbye since he was awake.

I heard the toilet flush and then the sound of him cleaning his teeth, then water running into the sink. Minutes crawled by and I tried not to think about what I'd been doing just a few hours earlier, but it was impossible not to. I only had to glance through the door back into the bedroom and there was the bed, all rumpled, the sheets no doubt smelling of both me and Paul. There would be a stain there on the bottom sheet from when I came while he pounded his cock into me. I bit my lip as I started to sweat, the image of myself under him stuck in my mind. I could still feel it, constantly reminded by the discomfort I now felt and despite my desperation to leave and the almost overwhelming feeling of guilt and self-disgust, my cock was filling slowly, pushing against the front of my jeans.

At last Paul emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist, much to my relief, although it didn't leave much to the imagination. It was tied low, revealing his happy trail, the bulge behind it indicating he was still somewhat hard. I dragged my eyes back to his face reluctantly.

"So...guess I better let you go," he said.

"Yeah...um..." I had no clue what to say to him. I'd never done this; fallen asleep with them, had to face the awkwardness in the morning. I'd always left afterwards, but now part of me almost wished I'd said yes to the coffee, just to hang out for another ten minutes and talk about something; anything rather than fidget nervously and run for the door.

Paul grinned at me again. "It was a good night. You ok?"

"Yes, thanks. I just...look, I don't do this."

"Yeah, I can tell." His grin broadened. "What do you normally do? Fuck and run?"

My face heated up and I grimaced. "Sorry."

"I guess it's not that much different for me; I don't really do relationships. I wouldn't mind doing this again some time though, if you're ever in Boston for anything."

"Actually, this is the first time I've been here," I said. "I don't really think I'll get over here again."

"Maybe I'll just have to take a trip to NYC then."

My eyes widened in shock and he laughed. "Kidding. You better get home to your wife. I have to go to work soon anyhow."

"Yeah. I'll...um...I guess I'll go," I stammered. "See ya."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Bye, Jacob."

I let myself out, called the elevator and headed down to the street, cursing myself all the way back to the hotel in the cab I found outside. I was a lousy person; a shitty husband; a cheat. How would Leah feel if she knew what I'd been doing? She'd be crushed and furious; I had failed her - again - and not only her, but Sarah too. This would be the last time, I told myself. I'd made my choice; I married Leah; I loved Leah; there was no excuse for my behaviour; none at all.

I got out of the cab and walked into the hotel, realising I said the same things to myself every time this happened. After the first time I'd vowed it would be the only time and that I'd gotten it out of my system. Then again and again and again I'd wallowed in guilt, telling myself I wouldn't do this any more and now here I was, having done it once again and I would have to suffer for it. I deserved to feel the way I did right now; loathing myself, almost wishing Leah would find out and tell me what she thought of me. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but if she hurt me in return, kicked me out, sent me away, it would be just punishment.

I let myself into the room and stripped off my clothes again quickly, grimacing at the smell of Paul on my shirt, the dried pre-cum stain in my shorts, my sore ass. I got in the shower and began to scrub myself vigorously, lathering myself up again and again until I'd used all of the small bottle of shower gel provided by the hotel and my skin was tingling from the hot water. I stepped out onto the mat and grabbed a towel to dry myself, reaching out to wipe the steam off of the mirror and wondering whether or not I should bother shaving before I left. I grimaced at my reflection, repeatedly cursing myself and then I froze in horror, the towel clutched in my hand as my eyes caught sight of the purple marks. I looked down at myself, noting the finger-shaped bruises on my hips where Paul had gripped me tightly while he fucked me. It was obvious to me what they were - three on one side and two on the other, plus a thumbprint behind my hip bone on one side.

"Fuck!"

I said it aloud this time and my stomach flipped over, my mouth went dry and my spine prickled as sweat began to break out of my pores again. Almost panting, I stepped closer to the mirror, dreading finding a hickey on my neck or some other obvious mark, but there was nothing else - just the fingerprints which didn't look like anything else I could think of. What the fuck was I going to do? Leah would know what they were - she had to - unless somehow I could keep myself covered up until they faded. How long did bruises last? A week? More?

I punched the wall, groaning at the sudden pain in my knuckles. What the hell was I doing? Again I asked myself, why had I gone into that fucking club in the first place? Why had I walked onto the dancefloor? Why had I let him fuck me? I went on and on berating myself as I put on clean underwear, t-shirt and jeans, gathering everything else into the piece of hand luggage I brought. It was still only nine-forty-five and I had time for breakfast although I didn't have much of an appetite. I went down to the restaurant none the less and helped myself to coffee and toast from the buffet, forcing a few bites down while my guts churned with dread at the thought of arriving home and having to behave as if nothing had happened.

I sent Leah a text from the cab on the way to the airport, letting her know I was on my way and she answered immediately, ending with 'Miss you, x' which only made me feel worse. The rest of the journey passed quickly, the flight on time, traffic light as the cab took me from Newark back to Manhattan. I repeatedly wiped sweaty palms on my legs and licked dry lips, grimacing as I compared my uncomfortable and nervous behaviour to the way I had been in the bar when Paul spoke to me. It was my own fault, I told myself again. I deserved everything I got and if all I suffered was my own guilt, I would get off lightly.

I travelled up to the penthouse in the elevator, trying to think about how I normally acted. I always did this and I was sure I appeared completely fake when I walked in, but Leah had never indicated she noticed anything different and I knew I would heave a sigh of relief that I hadn't been caught out and then beat on myself later and wish that I had been. I opened the door and walked in, dumping my bag and toeing off my shoes.

"Leah?"

"In the bathroom, babe!"

"Sorry..."

"Cleaning!" She emerged laughing, wearing bright yellow rubber gloves and her customary gorgeous smile, a scarf holding her hair back from her face. "So how was it? You didn't say a lot on the phone."

"Yeah, it was good; the machines are just what we want. Some really cool programmes on them; stuff for everybody. Fun ones and serious training workouts," I rambled. "So you missed me, huh?"

"Nah, I was just joking in the text; massaging your ego." Leah came to me and wrapped rubber-clad hands around the back of my neck, reaching up to touch her lips to mine. I slid my arms around her waist and hugged her against me, pressing my face into her hair where it had escaped from the scarf and breathing in the smell of oranges and lemons from her shower gel and some kind of exotic-scented shampoo. She always smelled of fruit or the forest or something natural and had never been much of a one for fancy perfumes - I learned that to my cost when I spent over a hundred dollars on a crystal bottle of scent for her twentieth birthday. She still had it with more than half its contents unused.

"You smell good," I sighed.

"You're easily pleased; I smell of bleach and air freshener," she grinned, pulling free. "So when are these machines being delivered?"

"Three weeks. You should try one out; row as fast as you can and see if you can save your passengers from being eaten by Jaws."

Leah snorted loudly. "There'll be a line out the door to use that. So what else did you do in Boston?"

"Um..." I turned away to hide my red face, grabbing my bag and beginning to unpack the things that needed to go in the laundry. Damnit, I had thought it was going so well; thought I had been the same as always. What else had I done?

"You sat in the room watching daytime TV, didn't you?" Leah said. "I don't know why you don't take a look around the city or something; have dinner somewhere nice. It's not like you do this sort of thing often; you might as well enjoy it."

"Well...I guess it's not much fun exploring a new place on your own. I don't like spending money on myself."

"I know, but you should - you deserve to get something out of this; you worked so hard the last few years and we're doing well now."

"I get plenty out of it - seeing the gym thrive, having you and Sarah to come home to..."

"Oh, shit!" Leah swore suddenly. "What time is it?"

"Uh..." I glanced at the clock. "Two-thirty, why?"

"Sarah's class finishes early today; there's some kind of big staff meeting going on. I don't know why they have to do it in school hours. They're deciding on more efficient teaching methods and they send the kids home an hour early. I mean, what the hell?"

"You want me to get Sarah?" I offered.

"Would you mind? I really wanted to get this done; I guess I lost track of time."

"No problem, I'll go now." I dropped a kiss onto her forehead and set off again quickly, heaving a sigh of relief and cursing myself at the same time, just like I had known I would. I didn't deserve her; I didn't deserve my beautiful, trusting wife who spent her time supporting me with my work, keeping my paperwork in order for the accountant, keeping our home nice, taking care of me and Sarah. She could have gone to college, had her own career, found a decent guy who would treat her the way she deserved and instead she got me - someone who knocked her up when she was eighteen, dragged her through eight years of poverty before things started to work out and fucked men behind her back at every opportunity.

"You fucking piece of shit, Jacob," I muttered as I strode to the subway station two blocks away, pulling out my phone to call Sarah's school to let them know I would be ten minutes late and then calling my manager, Edward, to tell him I wouldn't get to the gym that day as I'd hoped. Things were going smoothly as usual and I left him to get on with it.

I continued to silently hate myself as I picked up Sarah from school and took her home, spent the rest of the day with her and Leah, read Sarah her bedtime story to make up for being absent the previous night and fell into bed with Leah. I undressed quickly before she came into the room, but kept my shorts on to cover the damned incriminating bruises and by the time she left the bathroom in her nightgown, I was under the covers. She switched on the lamp at her side of the bed and took her contraceptive pill the same as always, then put the glass of water down and glanced at me.

"You look tired, honey."

"Yeah...I guess I didn't sleep too well last night," I mumbled, hoping that she would want to just snuggle and go to sleep. I couldn't have touched her, or made love to her right then. Guilt and regret pushed desire about as far away as it could get, and yet when Leah lay down and rested her head on my shoulder, my arm around her stroking her hair, I closed my eyes and all I could see was Paul. I couldn't seem to get him out of my head - how he looked on the dancefloor, all sweating and sexy; how he looked when I got up and he was still sleeping. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of something else; I opened my eyes and fixed them on Leah instead until they were too tired to stay open, but I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

I woke feeling worse that I had the day before, if that were possible. My head hurt and after I watched Leah slip out of bed and go to the bathroom, I rolled over and hid my face in the pillow. My morning erection pushed into the mattress and immediately the image in my head was of myself in Paul's room, his fingers digging into my hips while I jerked myself off. Suppressing a groan with difficulty, I turned back over and lifted the sheet, looking down at myself and noting the bruises were still there, as vivid as ever. I pulled my shorts over them and waited for Leah to finish in the bathroom and go to Sarah before I got up. It was going to be a very long week, or however long it took for the marks to fade.

It was that evening when I was almost discovered. Leah left the light on and bent to kiss me, quickly deepening it and making it obvious she wanted me. We usually made love with the light on, liking to see each other, look into each other's eyes, but that couldn't happen now. My heart skipped anxiously as I kissed her back, teasing her when she said I'd obviously missed her the other night more than I was letting on. She grabbed the waistband of my shorts to pull them down and I stopped her.

"Can you turn the light off, Lee? Damned headache behind my eyes..."

"Hmm...Little Jake doesn't seem to think you have a headache," she smirked, eyeing my cock as it strained against my shorts.

"Unlike you girls, we don't use a headache as an excuse not to do it," I grinned back. "Nothing wrong with the rest of me; I'd just be more comfortable with it dark."

Hell, would I feel more comfortable when she wouldn't be able to see those fucking bruises, I thought, as she quickly turned away and flicked off the light. I let out a quiet sigh of relief and wriggled out of my shorts, reminding myself not to leap out of bed in the morning without covering myself up if Leah was still in the room. Somehow I managed to put it out of my mind and focused totally on my wife and the next day, I actually did feel a little better. I still hated myself and I knew it would be a few weeks before I stopped telling myself what a piece of shit I was, but at the same time I was determined I had turned over a new leaf. I wasn't going to do it again; risk wrecking what I had, hurting my family, having my cake and eating it. It was over.

This was of course exactly what I said to myself each time, only it had been harder to forget Emmett than the previous three. I hadn't been able to get him out of my mind for some time and I'd had his phone number, which on several occasions I'd almost used until I made myself delete it and put it behind me. I didn't have Paul's number, but I knew where he worked and as much as I did try to put it behind me, I found that it wasn't that easy. I couldn't forget about him.

The bruises faded and I succeeded in keeping Leah from seeing them with a few rather awkward moments, but the images of Paul in my head didn't follow them. Several times when Leah had gone to take Sarah to school on the mornings where I didn't need to get to the gym early, I found myself in the shower, jerking off to get rid of my morning wood and letting him creep into my thoughts. I imagined it was his hand on me, his hot mouth sucking me; I remembered the way he had looked when he lifted his eyes to mine, his lips stretched around my cock and I replayed parts of the time I had with him in my head - how it felt when I came in his mouth; how he spent so long preparing me; how much I enjoyed having him fuck me, as guilty as it made me feel. I still wanted him; I just couldn't help it and the worst part of it was that I knew if I had the opportunity, I would fall into bed with him again, no matter how hard I tried to resist.

A couple more weeks passed and my thoughts were really beginning to worry me. He was still in my head and no less vividly than in the first few days. I only had to picture him dancing, that droplet of sweat rolling down his body to the top of his jeans or see him in my head lying on his bed sleeping, and my cock would stiffen rapidly and I'd be aching to have that night over again. It wasn't like when I just started longing for a man in general, it was Paul I wanted and I felt just as sick with myself as when I left his apartment that morning, if not more.

Amazingly, this didn't affect things with Leah. I loved her and I wanted her - she brightened up my day, she made me smile, she made love with me and each time it was as good as it had ever been; mercifully I didn't think about him at those times. But it was my thoughts that were being unfair to her and it was beginning to make me unhappy and angry. Why couldn't I forget about him?

I sat at the desk in my office in the gym, looking through some paperwork and realising it was three weeks since my trip to Boston. The rowing machines should be turning up any day now and I expected to hear something from the delivery company to say when they would be arriving. The previous time I'd ordered equipment from FitWorx, I'd had a call the day before to say roughly what time to expect them. I glanced at the phone and considered calling FitWorx to ask for details and then quickly dismissed the idea, knowing I would only be using it as an excuse to talk to Paul if he was there.

"Damnit!" I growled, slamming a drawer closed in my desk.

"Jake? You alright?" Edward stuck his head around the door a moment later.

"Yeah, I'm fine, take no notice," I muttered. He withdrew quickly and closed the door again.

I spent most of the day in my office and it was just before four o'clock when my phone rang. I'd received a few calls that day, mostly from potential new members, the bank and my accountant. I answered again absently.

"Hello, Jacob."

I gripped the phone tighter to prevent myself dropping it. Fuck, it was him! My pulse quickened and I ground my teeth.

"Forgotten me already?"

"Uh...no...sorry...hello, Paul," I stammered. Why the hell was he calling?

"Andrew wanted me to let you know the rowers you ordered will be delivered tomorrow," he went on. "They'll be leaving the warehouse early in the morning; I'm guessing they'll get to you in the afternoon. The truck has a few drops in NYC, I'm not sure what order they'll do it in though."

"Oh! That's great; thanks for letting me know," I said in relief.

"So, how have you been?"

"Yeah, pretty good, thanks," I lied. "You?"

"Good. Look, I'm gonna be in New York in a couple of weeks, visiting one of your competitors actually. You want to hook up?"

Shit!

"I...um...I can't," I said determinedly. "I'm married, Paul."

"Yeah, you said. It's already too late, Jake; you slept with me, remember?" he said huskily. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise and my t-shirt clung to me as I sweated. My heart was banging so loudly I wouldn't have been surprised if he could hear it. My cock began to stir in my pants and I tried to ignore it.

"Well, I can't do it again, I'm sorry," I said, a touch breathlessly.

"You telling me you don't want to? Or you just don't think you should?"

"I..."

"Because I want to. I want to fuck you again, Jacob."

Fuck, I want that too!

"Paul...it was a...one night, that's all. I'm not doing it again, ok?" I said firmly, clenching my fist. My erection throbbed painfully, urging me to reconsider. Was he hard too, I wondered? I almost groaned.

"Fair enough; just thought I'd ask. Haven't enjoyed being with a guy so much in a long time. Give me a call if you change your mind."

"Sure," I answered numbly.

"I'll see you. Let us know if you get any problems with the new machines."

He hung up a moment later and I put the phone down, my hand trembling. I said 'no', I reminded myself. I was ok, I hadn't done anything wrong - this time. But my cock twitched impatiently in my pants, telling me that I had two weeks to call him back before he would be right on my doorstep and I knew exactly how hard I was going to find it to resist.