Thomas

 

The air was different between us that evening. Tense and tight and laced with the unspoken web of crazy flitting through all of us.

I wanted Grace. He wanted Grace.

Grace wanted us.

I held back from all action, opting for a cold glass of water instead when the whisky bottle came out. The bar was relatively packed for a hotel that was doomed in a few months, people laughing easily at tables nearby while I struggled to keep myself in check.

I didn’t trust myself drunk, not tonight.

I didn’t trust myself at all, in fact, not with that beautiful woman so close at my side and the words of her husband’s father still scorching my inside pocket. As much as I’d have liked a clear route glimmering ahead of us, the reality was a whole world more messy. It was the antithesis of how I chose to structure my life, always looking before leaping, always being certain of the outcome of every move.

I guess that’s how come I finally knew I couldn’t stay in this place. Not with such emotional chaos running rife through my veins.

My ultimate problem was that I had nothing left to race home to. The wind of bitterness had well and truly left my sails, leaving me cast aimless on a sea of nothing more than chaos.

I needed to find myself, now more than ever. I needed to discover the potential of the boy I’d dismissed as a nobody and finally let him breathe.

I needed to dream. To plan. To let myself feel the ground under my feet for the very first time without charging ahead to some glorified excuse for victory at others’ expense.

I needed to say my goodbyes.

Brett didn’t employ the same self-restraint as I mustered. The whisky flowed easily through his shot glass, and his words flowed easily along with it. Talk of sports and which ones we could watch together. Talk of barbeques in the summer where I could meet Grace’s sister and her two little girls. I grinned along with him, nodding my head at every one of his ideas, not having the sliver of spite left within me required to tear down his optimism.

Grace was quiet. Simmering with the same bursting tension I’d revelled in over my very first visit. Her foot was tapping its crazy rhythm, her smile plastered on wide, even though she wasn’t feeling it.

It was only when the final guests left for upstairs that Brett finished up his final shot and slammed his empty glass on the counter.

I stood up from my stool prepared to retreat to my own room for my final evening, just to make the tension more bearable, but his slap was solid on my back when we reached the fork in the road, pressing hard to my spine and guiding me past the staircase with his eyes firmly ahead.

“Last night,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

We held back for Grace to head on by, her eyes glinting with life as she dared a glance back at us.

Fuck me, she was more beautiful in that moment than I’d ever seen her, her hair curled so perfectly from the nape of her neck, her lips dusky pink and begging for the kind of brutal kisses that would leave them swollen.

I wished they’d be mine.

Brett shot me one more blistering stare before his wife dropped to the bed and kicked her shoes off. He was rough with his shirt buttons, drunk fingers more savage than cautious as he tore the clothes from his body.

I took my cufflinks, placing them carefully on the nightstand before taking more concrete action.

“Show me how much you want your husband’s cock,” I barked at Grace, and she ate him up with the hungry eyes I’d been missing so much since the last time.

She didn’t need telling twice.

His dick was hard when she pulled it from his pants, his jaw gritted hard as she sucked it in with her greedy mouth.

I pulled up a chair, a mirror image of the first crazy night I’d spent with their nakedness, my legs crossed at the knee as I reclined back for a decent viewing.

“I don’t have fifty fucking grand for you,” Brett grunted, and his smile was drunk but real.

“Draw a red line in lipstick if you want it even,” I said back with a smirk.

“No sensors,” he told me. “You don’t need a barrier, Tom. I think my Grace wants us both to pitch in all night long.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Her eyes were on mine even as she sucked him deep, spluttering around the length of him like the dirty little slut we’d trained her to be.

I hoped I’d remember this for a long fucking time, breathing long and slow as he fucked her pretty throat and she slavered all over him.

“Show her what you’ve got for her,” I told him, and he gave me a nod.

“I’ll show her what I’ve got for her,” he responded, and gripped her throat with the same brutality I’d shown him all those nights ago.

He was learning. Every skill I’d learned by heart blooming deep in him through his sportsman’s vision. It was a joy to watch him slam his gorgeous wife to the bed and tug her dress down around her perky tits.

My mouth watered at the sight of them. Hungry to clamp down and mark her skin just as he was doing.

I ignored the twitch of the dick in my pants, shifting in my seat as the two people in the room with me found their groove.

They were different. He was different. Enough for the both of us combined as he sank into the authority he’d seized with both hands since the recent tornado of shit revelations rocked his world. He’d find himself in himself without question, exploring his own natural dominance through a whole different lens without the flawless illusion of his father to live for himself.

And fail for himself.

Risk himself in ways he’d never dared. Express himself in ways he’d never considered.

I was feeling it too. A whole world waiting out there, calling the whole new person I was becoming through this pain. Pain and hope.

Grace wrapped her legs around her husband’s waist, grinding against his naked cock as his mouth ravaged her and his hands pinned her wrists overhead. He was rough enough that she shied away from him, whimpering for more as her body betrayed her. And there she was, the Grace we’d coaxed from the demure woman who’d smiled out through her eyes all these years. The little vixen who tumbled over herself for more. Deeper.

Everything.

Brett didn’t look at me as he tugged her knickers to the side and slammed in hard.

I didn’t expect him to. Didn’t want him to. Didn’t even contemplate the possibility of an invite as her body squirmed under his and he ate her up.

His eyes were brutal on hers, his face just an inch away as he whispered obscenities I couldn’t make out and didn’t need to. She was transfixed, all her focus on the man who was claiming her, balls deep in the cunt that had grown so needy for its fill.

I waited until he pinched her nipples so hard she squealed, rolling her head back against the pressure as his power came to the fore.

I was quiet when I edged the chair backwards and made for the bathroom, waiting until their cursory glance had checked out my destination well enough for them to cast it aside as nothing and return to their pending climax.

I knew there would be another to follow it, and another after that. Their rapture couldn’t be contained in one single fuck session, not by a long way. It was raw and ripe. And ready.

Ready for me to say my goodbye.

I flicked on the switch in the bathroom to flood it with light, making sure I let out the noise of the door closing before retreating with backward steps into the shadow of their living room doorway.

And then I ran.

Quickly enough that I couldn’t change my mind, taking the stairs to my room three at a time and scooping up just my basic belongings before taking the rear stairs and tossing the essentials in my passenger seat and striking up the ignition.

There was no sign of them when I’d finished scrawling a handwritten note of my own and posted it through the main porch letterbox. The door was firmly closed on the world for the evening when I reversed from my parking space and headed along the coast with a smile on my face.

This time, like the last, I had no idea where I was headed.

Only this time, I didn’t care.