CHAPTER EIGHT — STEPHANIE
David settles onto the plush couch with me in his lap, and I nestle into the cozy blanket and against his chest. I feel calm.
On one hand, I feel a warm glow. On the other hand, I feel nervous.
What does this mean? Have I earned his trust back? Can he forgive me?
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are you nervous?" he asks.
I nod.
"You can tell me, you know," he says.
"When I'm nervous?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says.
"I don't know," I say hesitantly.
"That's fair," he says. "I'm guessing you're worried. You're not sure where I stand. Is that it?" he asks.
I nod.
"Let's talk about it," he says.
I don't know if I want to, though. I'm nervous. I feel like he might say something I'm not prepared to hear, so I do what I always do. I distract. I pull away from him slightly and reach for his crotch. I begin to rub him.
"Just what do you think you're doing there, young lady?" he asks.
"Nothing," I say.
As I continue to rub, I feel him stiffen. He groans.
I undo his pants and take out his cock. I wrap my lips around it and suck, swirling my tongue around his member. He grabs my hair and pulls me up. His ocean blue eyes stare at me, and I feel their heat. I try to look away, but he grabs my chin, tilting it, forcing me to look at him.
One of his hands goes to my waist, the other cupping my jaw.
"Why did you do it, Stephanie?" he asks.
Fuck, I guess my distraction plan didn't work.
"I already told you," I mumble. The hand around my jaw moves up, and he slips a thumb into my mouth. The hand that's around my waist goes to my clit.
"Tell me again, sweetheart," he says.
He starts to rub my clit and inserts a finger. How the hell did he turn this around? I feel pleasure mount in my body as he begins to finger fuck me.
"Tell me why you betrayed me, Stephanie," he says. "And don't look away. I want you to look me right in the eyes and tell me."
"Because I don't trust easily," I blurt out. I'm holding eye contact, and it's hard, but I'm doing it. "I thought you were going to screw me over, so I thought I would screw you over first."
He inserts another finger, and my body trembles. "Keep going," he says.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm fucked up, I know that.
I'm paranoid, I don't trust people, and I'm reckless sometimes.
I'd rather be wrong than be humiliated. I couldn't risk being made a fool of.
So, I acted like one instead and believed John instead of you.
I don't blame you if you don't forgive me.
I get it if I'm too much for you, I'm too much for most people. "
He pauses and stops finger fucking me.
"Look at me, Stephanie," he says. I didn't even realize I wasn't looking at him anymore. My eyes snap up and find him again. I grimace in anticipation, expecting a frown or look of disapproval.
But it's the opposite. There's softness. He moves a hand to my waist again and squeezes. It's comforting.
"You're not too much for me, Stephanie," he says quietly. "You never have been. In fact, I thought I was too much for you."
"What?" I blurt out. I'm shocked.
"Too much baggage," he says. "I mean, I'm the one who's divorced and much older than you. In fact, it's selfish of me to want you, I'm keeping you from boys your own age. I'm keeping you from happiness. I should let you go."
"But I don't want them," I stammer.
"Are you sure about that?" He looks at me. "What about Philip? It seemed like—"
"I don't want Philip," I say, cutting him off. "I mean, he's a friend and yeah, he's attractive, but it's not like that with us. There isn't that romantic spark. We don't want to be together."
"Oh, really?" he asks. "It sure seems like you did."
"We were trying to make you jealous," I say sheepishly.
He smiles, and my heart glows. "I was trying to do the same with Jocelyn," he admits. The warmth in me grows stronger.
"So we're perfect for each other then," I say.
David laughs. "What?"
"Because we're equally fucked up," I say, moving his hand from my waist back to my clit.
"I guess that's one way to put it," David says, smirking.
"So can we just call it even then?" I ask.
"Call it even?"
"I mean, you forgive me for my lie, and I forgive you for trying to evict me," I say, as I reach for his cock again. This time, he doesn't stop me. In fact, he starts fingering me again, and I moan.
"You know this is a bad idea, right?" he asks as I undo his pants.
He catches my eye as I move towards him. It feels like a moment in a movie, the moment when everything changes.
I straddle him and look him deep in the eyes. My voice comes out firmer than it's been all evening. I place one hand on his heart and tell him the truth.
"I don't care. All I care about is you."
He pulls me towards him and kisses me. I sink into him, finally letting go. I feel free and alive at the same time.
He pulls back so our faces are inches from each other, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and whispers, so quietly I almost miss it:
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Stephanie."
My fingertips tingle. I pull him back into the kiss, and this time, neither of us stops.
He's right. This is probably a bad idea.
But bad ideas are always the most fun, aren't they?