Chapter 7
MICHAEL
“Well, what brought this on?” I ask, watching Leni toss clothes into a bag like the house is on fire. “I thought we were supposed to talk. Instead, you come home drunk at two in the morning?”
She barely looks at me. “I’ve just been under so much pressure, I was starting to feel like I was losing it.
I thought…” She cuts herself off, zipping the bag.
“I think I just need a few days of peace. To meditate. You gave me that yoga retreat gift months ago, feels like the perfect time to actually use it.”
I try to catch her eye. “And our talk? ”
“We’ll talk when I get back. Monday,” she says, distracted. Then she stops, really looks at me. “I need this.”
I step closer, soften. “Alright. I’ll be here.”
A car honks outside. She glances out the window. “That’s my cab. I’ll text you when I get to the car, okay?”
At least she didn’t drive drunk last night.
I help her carry the bag down the stairs, and when we get to the front door, she turns and kisses me. Not a quick peck, not the distant, obligatory goodbye we’ve been trading lately. It’s… full. Intentional.
She hasn’t kissed me like this in a long time. Not since-
No. There’s no way she knows.
I make coffee after she leaves. Robotically. Scoop, pour, press. The kitchen is too quiet. The kiss is still on my mouth, like she left something behind on purpose. Like maybe she knows, but I tell myself- no, she doesn’t. She can’t.
I drink my coffee black. No sugar. No cream. Just punishment.
By 8:30 I’m out the door, dress shoes biting at my heels, tie too tight like it’s strangling me for sins I haven’t even confessed to.
The office is a glass-and- concrete block of dead dreams and high-speed Wi-Fi.
People nod at me in the hallway like I’m still someone worth nodding to.
I sit at my desk and pretend I care about Q3 reports and vendor negotiations and how we can rebrand our client-facing portal.
I click, scroll, nod, say “let’s circle back on that” like a goddamn puppet with an MBA.
At lunch, McKenna corners me. She always finds me.
“You look like hell,” she says, sliding into the booth across from me. Tight blouse, bright lipstick, always a little too much perfume. I’ve never touched her. But she flirts like it’s a sport and she’s trying to win gold. I don't bite, but I don’t stop her either.
“I’ve been tired.”
She tilts her head. “Tired or in trouble?”
I shrug, push food around on my plate. Leni texted me- Made it. No service after this. I’ll talk to you Monday. I stared at that message for too long. No, I love you, I miss you.
Back at the office, I get into it with Ben from Accounts. Something about a missed deadline, a miscommunication. He talks to me like he’s my boss and I nearly lose it. Instead, I grab my coat, mutter something about a headache, and leave.
The drive home is quiet. Leni’s not texting, not calling, not checking in. I’m not used to her silence, even though she’s been absent for months .
At home, I change into sweatpants and crack open a beer. The couch groans under me like it’s tired too. I sip slowly. Think too much.
I love her. I do. But we’re not us lately. We haven’t been in a while. Everything’s off. Wrong timing, wrong words, too many silences, not enough touch. It’s like we’re on parallel tracks, close enough to see each other but never close enough to connect.
I scroll through my phone. Stare at one thread. No new messages.
I tell myself not to do it. I always do. Every single time, I promise this’ll be the last time. Two months, and I still haven’t learned.
But the loneliness wraps around me like a second skin. Heavy. Hot. I type before I can stop myself.
You busy?
And hit send.
Exactly thirty minutes later, she walks in like she owns the place.
No knock. No hesitation. Just the sharp click of her heels on hardwood, echoing up the hallway, announcing her arrival like some twisted version of a homecoming.
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t smile. She just heads straight upstairs, purposeful, like she’s done this a thousand times before. Like she lives here.
And I- I follow. Helpless.
She’s familiar in a way that feels dangerous now. She’s close to Leni. Too close. That should’ve been the line. Hell, that should’ve been the damn electric fence, the one thing that kept everything else in check. But I didn’t stop. And now, I can’t seem to.
In the beginning, it was innocent. Painfully innocent. Two lonely people orbiting the same woman, misunderstood in the exact same ways, drifting toward each other like debris in a storm. We talked too much. Laughed a little too long. Just enough to feel like maybe we weren’t drowning.
Then came Christmas. One kiss. One stupid, alcohol-softened, heat-of-the-moment kiss that tore the thread clean off the sweater. Before that night, she was someone I considered family. Like a sister. The kind of person you share secrets with- not bedsheets.
But Leni had gone on another business trip, and she didn’t know. She came over that day wanting to talk, wanting to apologize for the kiss. I shouldn’t have let her in. God, I shouldn’t have let her in.
But I did.
And when I kissed her, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant.
It was messy and sure and full of every wrong thing I’d been swallowing down for months.
I took her upstairs, to the bed I share with my wife, and I made love to her.
Not once. Not twice. We didn’t sleep until the sun came up. We didn’t want to.
She fell asleep in my arms. We woke up tangled. Quiet. Like the calm after a disaster. We swore it wouldn’t happen again. That it couldn’t.
Two weeks later, it did.
Her bus never came. She called Leni. No answer. Then she called me. I should’ve said no. But I didn’t.
She was covered in snow, cold clinging to her cheekbones.
I turned the heat on, while she took off her coat, pretending we didn’t feel the electricity humming between us.
The sweater she wore was skin tight. The more layers she took off, the deeper her breathing became.
I drove her home, but I didn’t pull into her driveway.
I parked two blocks down. And when she leaned in, I didn’t stop her. I met her halfway.
The windows fogged from our breath. Our hands didn’t hesitate.
After that, we didn’t even try to lie to ourselves. We’d already fallen. This wasn’t slipping anymore, this was freefall.
As she stands at the foot of the bed, I take a moment to appreciate the sight of her.
She's breathtaking, always has been. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, framing her face with an almost angelic glow.
But her eyes... they're anything but innocent.
They're filled with a dangerous desire that makes my heart race.
She walks toward my wife’s vanity, taking off her bracelet and laying it on the table, she stares at me in the mirror as she takes off her bra, under her shirt.
God! I cannot wait anymore. I walk toward her, until my front is plastered to her back and grab her tiny waist with both hands.
Slowly, my hands creep up, under her shirt until they reach the beautiful, heavy mounds hidden from sight.
I can see the shape of my fingers under her white shirt as I grab at her breasts.
Paw at them, squeeze them like they are the problem.
She arches her back, moaning quietly, her breasts have always been a weakness, hers and mine. Just squeezing them turns her on like nothing else. She bites her lips, staring into my eyes and unbuttons her jeans. I slide down her body, grabbing and ripping her jeans and underwear down in one go.
She grabs onto the vanity as she steps out, I slowly get up, kissing her tight ass on the way. Once upright, I take off my shirt and shorts, kicking them off. My erection springs free. I grab at her waist again, lining up. She stops me with a, “Wait! Protection”
Almost forgot, I reach into the bedside table and come up empty. “Shit! We used the last one yesterday.” When my wife came home, I don’t say that part.
You would think a day after running out the back door with another woman when my wife came home unexpected, would’ve made me wary of doing it again. But the allure, the taboo nature of what were doing, keeps bringing us together.
I look at her, “Did you?”
“Get an IUD, I did. You know I can’t risk anyone finding out I’m on birth control right now.” Of course, if anyone find out I gave her money for an IUD…, then again if anyone found out we were doing this, I’d be ruined.
I just stare at her and step back towards her, as she shakes her head. I roughly grab her arm and twist her around, facing the mirror.
She gives a half-hearted, “We can’t…” But I don’t let her finish as I thrust into her. Hard.
Oh my god. The feeling of her velvety warmth surrounding me, for the first time without any barrier between us, is heaven. This feeling, its actually worth going to hell for fucking her.
“Fuck, you feel so good. I’m gonna come deep inside of you and you’re gonna take it.” I punctuate it with a deep thrust.
I take a beat, trying not to bust my nut in the first thrust. After a few seconds, I grab her hips and pull out and thrust back in again.
And again. As deep as possible. I set a hard, punishing rhythm as I pull her shirt up, over her breasts, pawing at them.
I increase my speed, rut her like a wild animal and bunch up the back of her shirt, and pull, hard .
Her arms are pulled back as the shirt tightens around her throat. She gasps as I reach my other hand around and grab at her breasts. She knows better than to make any sounds, so she bites the back of her hand. She pushes up on the vanity working herself back against me every time I thrust forward.
Flesh slaps against flesh, and the vanity begins to shake, things falling on the floor.
I release her shirt, and grab her by the throat, turning her face, so I can bite her lips.
One of my hands trails down her body, reaching between her legs and with one sharp slap directly on her pussy, she comes hard, squeezing my dick in a vice grip and I follow filling her with my cum.
I pull out of her and push her face down into the bed, ass up, me behind her. I start by massaging her asshole, getting her ready for what I have in store. I press my thumb against it, and she lets out a moan, biting at the sheets. She gaps as I spank her hard a few times, and she yelps.
I bend and press my lips to the ass cheeks that are turning red from my slaps.
Her breathing picks up, as I get on my knees and push my tongue into her ass.
She moans loudly, trying to push me away, making me grab her hips, pulling her tight against my face.
I lick her ass as she presses against me, her hips moving as I move down to her pussy.
I ignore where she’s weeping for my tongue, instead I kiss her lips sucking them into my mouth as she grows restless, grabbing at the sheets .
I finally take pity and tongue her clit, sucking it into my mouth like she sucks my dick.
I increase the pressure as she pulls at my hair, to push me off or pull me in, I don’t care as I thrust two fingers into her pussy, curling my fingers and hitting the spot as she comes, hard, again.
Her pussy grips my fingers, like it doesn’t wanna let go.
She moves up the bed, laying her head on the pillow, Leni’s. I don’t think she knows, don’t think she cares. And honestly, right now, neither do I.
I get into the bed with her as she finally takes off her shirt over her head, exposing herself.
I get on top of her and move down to suck her nipples.
She spreads her legs as I settle between them and reach down to guide myself in, without taking my lips off her nipple. Heck, half her boob is in my mouth now.
She moans and arches off the bed with the first thrust, “God! You feel so good without the condom.”
I take my lips off her breast, but I never get to answer, because that is the moment that I notice the silhouette in the open doorway.
Leni .