Author's note:
You definitely will need to have read the previous parts first, FYI. There is also some rough sex in this batch of chapters. I don't know that it rises to the level of needing a heads-up, but if you appreciate a heads-up about that kind of thing, let me know and I'll be sure to do so again if similar situations occur in the future. Enjoy (:
~~~
Chapter 8
Da Vinci stopped licking himself and looked over at Andrew suspiciously. The cat liked his routines, and this was TV-and-grading-papers time --
not
stare-at-the-phone-for-a-few-silent-minutes time.
Andrew's eyes flicked back over from the cat next to him on the couch to the text he was having trouble processing.
Hey! :) Did I see you at moonlight the other night??
Mal's profile picture winked up at him.
Above it was the last text she'd sent him, over two years ago. She'd asked him if he was coming to the meeting between their attorneys. He hadn't gone and he hadn't responded.
But...he kind of wanted to now, even though he knew very well what just
seeing
her had done to him, sending him into a spiral of self-destruction and self-loathing.
Maybe it was the dumb, black-and-white sci-fi movie he had on in the background that he liked to use as noise to fill the vacuum while he graded papers. Mal had never liked them, even as silly filler. He knew from their still-shared Netflix account that her preferred noisemaker was more along the lines of reality TV.
Even so, it brought back the moments she'd chided him, rolled her eyes at cardboard sets and cheesy dialogue, even while staying to do her own work next to him on the couch. Andrew knew he was self-selecting the good parts of his memory...but didn't the good parts happen, too?
When he closed his eyes, he could still see her, smell her,
feel
her against him, the two of them barely out of college with the world in front of them, just waiting to be tamed. She'd always been daring, and had always had that irresistible, electric smile and eyes that drew you in, no matter who you were. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end just thinking about it.
They'd met in college, and she was way out of his league. But Mal paid attention to him, enjoyed his company. They hung out at the college radio station -- either proper hipsters or just wannabes, he wasn't sure anymore.
He remembered the thrill of her grinding into him while he was in the on-air booth late at night, how she'd unzipped his pants right there under the desk -- that deviously adventurous smirk sending shivers up his body even now -- while a few others were in the office outside the door. It was the first time anyone had ever given him a blowjob. The grin on her face never went away, practically vibrating and humming on its own. Nobody had a smile like hers.
And she'd picked
him
.
Haha yeah
It wasn't her spontaneous sexuality that he missed though -- although yes, he did miss that a little.
She was always
on
, like she was always playing a part for someone -- including for him. He knew that. He'd known that even before they'd gotten married. Only, he...he thought he'd known where the character ended and she began.
Turns out, I don't think even she knows
.
What he missed were the moments she couldn't fake. The way she would cling to him at night when she was barely awake, nuzzling closer to him. That hadn't been an act. He was sure of it. She really did love him, probably right up until the end.
Maybe even still
....
She hadn't responded yet. Would she?
This was the kind of thing he couldn't get wrapped up in, the traps that had been so hard for him to overcome just to get to this point.
He cringed as those memories flashed by, too. Of how pathetic he was. How much he'd been propped up by his sister, by Paul, by Heather.
So why had he insisted he could handle seeing her that night on the dancefloor? Paul had told him they should leave. But Andrew had insisted, "no, no, I can handle it." And he really thought he could have. He couldn't spend his whole life avoiding her, right?
But he...couldn't take his eyes off her. Couldn't stop watching her body move so freely, so easily, out there. She was still beautiful, sexy, daring -- all the things she'd been when they'd split three years ago, when he'd finally worked up the nerve to...well, to completely disintegrate on the way out of their crumbling marriage.
His phone buzzed and his eyes snapped to it immediately.
Niiice, look at you go dancing queen! I bet you're back to grading papers tonight though huh ;)
He smiled.
Nailed it, haha
Quickly, he added more.
Watching Return of the Parazoids, too. Just like old times
He didn't have to wait long for a response.
Bahahaha, I expect no less! God forbid you grade papers in silence! :P
Btw, I'm back in town. Thought maybe we could get together? Talk?
Andrew froze. He wasn't sure what to say. He looked at Da Vinci next to him, who licked his paw. Andrew took that to mean the cat knew damn well he was being an idiot -- just like always -- so why bother. Or it might've been complete disinterest.
He held the phone in his hand, agonizing over what to say. Did he actually want to meet with her? Talk things over? The divorce had been stretching on for
three years
. Sometimes because she was dragging her feet, but -- Andrew had to admit -- mostly because
he
was, even though he'd initiated it.
What did she want to talk about? Finalizing the papers? Or...did she...want something else?
His phone screen went to sleep while he thought about it. Did it matter what she wanted? Shouldn't he say no either way? That's what Paul would say, that's what Heather would say, and that's what his sister would say.
Actually, they'd hit me over the head for responding at all and confiscate my phone
.
Da Vinci made an annoyed noise and sauntered onto Andrew's lap, taking his time curling up. If Andrew wasn't going to actually grade papers, then there was no reason he couldn't sit in his spot, he must've figured.
Andrew sighed. As long as she didn't text him again, he knew himself well enough at this point to know that he was going to be paralyzed into inaction the rest of the night and not respond at all.
Yeah, I know, Da Vinci. Shocking the divorce still isn't finalized after three years, right?
Da Vinci nuzzled against him. He took that as agreement.
~~~
Chapter 9
[vibe track: river - bishop briggs]
Cameron could feel his dick rubbing against her slit.
Why the fuck is he taking so long.
She turned her head, sending him a glare as she bent over in front of him in her room. He had probably 100 pounds on her, all muscle, some guy she'd connected with on Tinder. She thought his name was Jorge, but she wouldn't swear to it.
"
Fuck me goddammit
!" Cameron growled out the command, but knew he wasn't going to hear her over the pounding music, not even at point-blank range. He seemed to get the message though and she felt his latex-covered tip start to press into her. She wasn't very wet, but she didn't care.
He was big, and she grimaced as he pushed inside her, a little too gently for her liking. She worked herself back into him to try and get him to just fucking shove it in already.
Finally he did, slamming it in the last few inches, making her grunt at the sudden feeling of his cock stretching her out. She nearly fell over, saved only by the wall right in front of her.
She couldn't feel where he ended inside her -- she was still trying to adjust to his size when he took her hips and started thrusting in earnest. She let out another groan that no one but her would know she'd made.
Her whole body tensed from her jaw to her toes, steeling against the cock that felt like it was still growing with every thrust. He was picking up his pace, not even close to as fast as the song that was thumping in her ears, but his dick was sliding into her more easily now as he got a head of steam going.
It hurt -- and she focused on that feeling, like she was being ripped apart inside every time he rammed deeper into her.
Cameron's groans didn't make any noise, they were just open-mouthed screams, and he got into a rhythm -- finally -- pounding into her harder and harder. His fingers dug into her narrow hips, painting bruises in real time.
Without warning he slapped her ass, making her yelp and then moan -- long and deep from somewhere primal inside her.
"Harder!
Fuckkk -- harder!"
Maybe he heard her, maybe he didn't. Either way, he answered by throwing himself into her, his chin almost to her spine, and moved his hands up from her hips to her bare ribs. She could feel the pressure from his fingertips on her bones as he gripped tighter, pulling her body into him as he shoved his cock forward again and again and again.
His tempo was matching the music now, so fast, so hard that she could barely feel each thrust -- just the throbbing soreness inside her interrupted by the sharp pain of his cock tearing into her.
It was exactly what she wanted.
"Yeessss, YESSSSS!
FUCKKK!
FASTER!" she screamed, more out of satisfaction than pleasure. This wasn't about pleasure.
He was getting close now, she could feel it. Underneath the pulsing music, she could hear his long, sustained grunts as he kept it up, close to exploding.
