Thou Shalt Not(71)

I kissed my way back up her neck, underneath her chin, then over it and back to her lips.

When our lips met this time, they met with full force. There was a yearning in our kiss that I hadn’t felt in any kiss before. I parted her lips with my tongue, and the second it touched hers I felt a jolt of electricity surge through my body. I knew she felt it too. There were goose bumps on her arms, and her body tightened up like she was holding onto something and didn’t want to let it go.

I pushed her back onto the couch and my body was on top of hers, but our lips never separated. The kiss continued. My elbows were resting on the couch above her shoulders, my hands still holding the sides of her face.

I pulled back slightly, and my tongue left hers. She whimpered.

We continued to kiss and this time my tongue went up underneath her lip, where her top lip met her gums.

I had read once before about that particular spot being a great one in a woman’s mouth to explore with your tongue, but for some reason I had never tried it up until now. I was glad I waited.

Her body arched up into mine when I did it, her breasts pressing into my chest. Her hands had been around my waist, but now they grabbed my hips and pulled them toward her body.

I was as hard as I had ever been, and when our lower bodies touched, I knew there was no way she was going to miss it. She moaned once more. Her right hand slid from my hip down to the front of my shorts, brushing over me.

“God,” she said, as my lips left hers and returned to her neck.

She was now gripping me tightly, through my shorts.

“These need to come off,” she whispered.

I leaned back so that I could lose the shorts as she arched up and leaned forward to do it herself.

The top of my head hit her right cheek on the same spot Marco had earlier hit, and she let out a loud gasp, her hands reaching up immediately to grab the side of her face.

“Shit,” I said, reaching up toward her face as well.

“It’s okay,” she said, the pain bringing tears to her eyes. “Just hit me on the right spot.”

I got up to get her another ice pack from the freezer, not wanting this new bump to make things worse.

She sat up on the couch and sighed, brushing herself off.

It was a quarter till two and I nearly gasped myself, remembering Holly.

I grabbed my phone from the counter and saw that I had three texts from her.

Oh god, I’m sorry. That sucks :-/ the first text read.

The second said: I can stop by and check on you on my way home if you’d like...

Guess you already fell asleep. I’ll just come by in the morning to see how you are.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, God.

I took the ice pack back to April, and she placed it on her cheek. I sat down next to her, relieved that Holly had been taken care of, and frustrated that the energy in the room had completely disappeared.

“Well, this turned into quite the night,” she said.

“Yeahhhh,” I replied.

“I didn’t exactly picture myself getting hit by my husband and then going and making out with my co-worker.”

“Just your typical Friday night here,” I said.

She smiled.

“Can you get me my phone?” she asked.

I found it on the floor next to the pillows and handed it to her.

“He’s called and texted like twenty times,” she said.

I felt tense even talking about him. I wanted him to go away. She didn’t need him in her life.

“What do the texts say?”

“There are nine of them. Hold on.”

She scrolled through them herself before reading them out loud.

“Well, they range from ‘Where the fuck are you, bitch?’ at the beginning, to ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been an asshole. Please come home’ at the end.”

Typical abusive drunk.

“When did he send the ‘Please come home’ text?”

She handed me the phone so I could see for myself. You really could watch his mood go from angry drunk to remorseful husband over the course of the texts.

“Five minutes ago,” I said to no one in particular.

She nodded.

Five minutes ago, her hand was holding onto my cock. I felt like responding to his text and telling him that. Something told me that would only send him back to angry and abusive.

“I should probably go,” she said, standing up abruptly.

“You don’t have to,” I said. “You don’t have to leave until you’re ready.”

“I know. Thank you. But, the longer I stay out, the more upset he will probably get.”

I had half a mind to tell her that if he had a problem with her being out, he could come settle it with me.

“Okay,” I said. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Thank you,” she said again.

We stood in the middle of the living room, hugging for at least twenty or thirty seconds. I knew I didn’t want this to end, didn’t want her to leave, and I was sure she mostly felt the same way.