LATCH (4 page)

I push her back down and take the whip from her hand giving her a sharp smack to her ass. She cries out in desire and I pick up my pace, moving my thick cock inside of her wet pussy. Sweat beads on my forehead. Her body is clammy and she moans with every pulse of our bodies meeting one another. Her ass is red, and again I begin to drift off thinking about Abby.

Fuck, I miss her. I wish I were fucking her.

Jessy does remind me in so many ways of Abby, and I have to admit that’s why I chose her first to fuck today. Stupid fucking move. Looking down at my cock as she takes every inch of me, the room spins in slow motion and I have to pull myself back to reality. I focus on coming, letting go in my release, that right now, I so desperately need to take me out of my head.

Keeping in the moment, I drill her deep and she starts to tighten her cunt firmly around my swollen dick. I sense she’s ready to let a good cum out, so I run my cock in her deeper and harsher. She bows and I urge her on, “Let go, baby.” She screams my name, letting go, and I search for my release.

After watching her come like that, you’d think I could come right away, but I can’t. Yes, she’s got me horny as fuck, but I just can’t find my release. My head is too tied up. Refusing to accept this, I move her sweaty body to the couch, laying her face up, where her tits are staring at me.

“You like being tied up and fucked like a slut, don’t you?” I ask her, spreading her pink pussy lips again.

“That was fucking intense,” she says as I slide the head of my shaft slowly into her and move at the pace I like. Reaching for her tit, I grab a handful and get lost in none other than the thoughts of Abby. I imagine that I am inside of her pussy. Quickly, a good cum brews as she moans just like Abby and I listen to her soft voice calling me, just like I need.

I get to a place where I’m so close to coming, but my mind won’t let go, wrapped up in the turmoil…Jessy, Abby…Abby, Jessy, so I pull my swollen cock out of her. Ripping the condom off as I jerk myself hard, Jessy gets to her knees and I look at her tied up as she has her mouth open, waiting for my cum. She’s such a dirty girl, letting me jerk my cock on her. Finally, the flow begins and it’s strong as fuck, making my entire body tingle. I close my eyes and tighten my ass cheeks, pumping myself all over her. After I finish, I help her stand up and untie her hands. Thank God that’s over.

“Thank you,” she says and cleans herself up.

“Of course, babe,” I respond, hoping she can’t hear how shaken up I feel inside. I kiss her cheek and put my toys away, eager to get the fuck out of her apartment. After the mindfuck that I just endured, I need a stiff drink. Leaning down, I kiss her on the lips, my mind is in such a funk. “Do you have to go?” she asks me with a pout to her face.

“You know the rules. We come and we’re done, babe.”

It has been two days since I told Latch that I needed some space. And I haven’t heard a word from him. This is the longest in a year that we have gone without talking and it hurts like hell.

Heading into the bathroom, I look at my bleak expression and splash some water on my face. Darrell is still here, angry and controlling, so I know I’m in for more hellish fighting. He has been so mean and hateful. To wake up each day to it is getting old. I’m not sure if he’s ever really loved me, but what’s it matter anymore? I’ve fucked everything up. Thankfully he flies out with his team today to Colorado, so I forge forward knowing the peace I need is just around the corner. I’ll be able to think about what
I
want. Part of me is screaming to run, to hide where he can never find me, to break the chains I’ve lived under for far too long. But the thought of leaving him and our life…scares the shit out of me. Then another part is urging me to make this marriage work – it’s all I have…it’s all I know.

Walking out of the bedroom, Darrell is sitting on the balcony overlooking lower Manhattan. He has a drink in his hand and it’s only nine in the goddamn morning.

How the fuck is he going to play a baseball game today?

I decide not to confront him. It’s not worth the energy, and quite frankly, I’m fucking exhausted. Heading back to the bedroom, he turns his head like he senses me and I see the sliding door open.

I stop and watch him set his drink down, he’s drunk; his eyes are filled with disgust. “You know,” he slurs and stumbles a little, catching himself on the back of a chair. “I was outside thinking about our life and everything we’ve been through, and then I imagined another man’s cock inside you and it filled me with hatred. I hate you for what you’ve done.” He chokes on his words.

“I can leave if I make you feel that way.” He’s acting like he’s never cheated on me. Again.

He stumbles towards me a few more steps, this time catching himself on the table. “Fuck you, you slut, you’re not going anywhere and neither am I,” he snarls.

“This wasn’t only me. You’ve slept with plenty of other women since we’ve been married, so what’s the difference? You might not admit it, Darrell, but I’ve seen pictures of you online. A different woman in every city going back to your hotel with you, and I forgave you, and not just because you can throw a stupid ball. I loved you and I thought we could make this work, but anymore I don’t know.”

He looks at me through the scowl that has plagued his face since he caught Latch and I, then walks away to his bar for yet another drink. It’s pathetic to drink this early, but after everything…maybe it would help me too.

I let out a breath of air and walk to the fridge grabbing a yogurt, knowing alcohol won’t solve anything, just as Darrell storms into the kitchen and says, “Tell me, Abby, should I really just be okay with you being a whore in my home because you keep accusing me?”

I ignore him. He’s drunk and I have nothing more to say to him.

“Tell me, bitch!” he yells and moves closer to me.

I look at him, slamming my yogurt in the sink. The goopy whiteness splatters all over. “You’re right, I am a whore. I gave into the same temptations you have, whether you admit it or not, so I guess that makes me just as weak as you!”

He slams his glass down next to me causing it to shatter in his grip. “I’m staying home ’til we hash this shit out!” His words are the last that I want to hear. I need him gone. I can’t live like this. But Darrell always gets what he wants, so he’s not going anywhere until that happens and he isn’t going to let me go either. As he stands next to me and looks forward, there is a crazy look in his eyes. The way things have escalated is nothing that we have ever gone through, and it’s frightening, so I try to calm him down, to make him see that I am sorry. As much of a jerk as he is, I never meant to hurt him. And then, maybe he’ll leave and go on the road with his team.

Putting my hand on his arm, I tell him, “I’m sorry this is what our marriage turned into. I never would’ve imagined it could be like this.”

His body trembles, he’s about to burst into rage, and I know right then that there is no calming him down. I leave the kitchen walking away to the bedroom. It has been my quiet place these last few days.

I close the door behind me and just want Latch right now. Drifting across the room, I’m thankful that Darrell didn’t follow me in here. Looking down as I walk, my mind goes back to when Latch was fucking me on the floor, to when he made me come harder than I ever have before. If only I could go back to that place for just a moment. It may have been wrong for us to be together, but the time that we shared was amazing, and for that, I don’t regret any of it
at all
. He was always such a gentleman to me, so sweet and fun to be around, and so fucking sexy that I about died every time I laid eyes on him. But with Latch it wasn’t only about the sex. He made me feel wanted and sexy. I could finally be myself and not the fake celebrity wife that I have to be when I’m with Darrell. That is something that I’ve never had. It was like when we were together, nothing and no one else mattered, even though in the back of my mind, I knew I wasn’t the only one and I paid him to be here. Latch always made me feel different, so I hold on to what we had because for the first time in years, I felt like I was someone’s priority, when Darrell has never made me that. Latch would text me first thing in the morning and before he went to bed. When I’d go weeks on end without a word from Darrell. Thinking back on the years of my failed marriage, Darrell always cared more about his career than me, and I pathetically accepted that, until there was too much time alone, whether he was on the road or here in New York just staying in a hotel drunk and pushing me away. It became too much and that’s what made me turn to Latch.

In my own defense, I didn’t know Latch was an escort when we first met. It’s not like that’s what I went out and looked for. We really did meet at the grocery store, but he was honest from the get go about who he was, and I fought the temptation for as long as I could. But goddamn Latch, he was persistent and I was lonely and needed the attention, even if I had to pay for it. Finally I gave in and made myself believe it was a way to justify being with Latch. Even though, from day one, there was a spark between the two of us and I wanted so much more than sex from him.

Sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, my eyes stay glued to the floor wondering what he is doing right now. But, my daydream is cut short as Darrell kicks the door open, scaring the shit out of me. Shards of wood go flying as he rushes in, getting in my face, kneeling in front of me. “Tell me why you fucked this all up,” he demands.

My heart slams against the walls of my chest. Looking him in the eye, this is not the man I married. Scanning the room, I look for my cell phone, but don’t see it. “You need to calm down. I never wanted things to end up this way.”

“But they did,” he shouts.

“And I’m really sorry. I didn’t think I would sleep with another man after we married, but I knew you were sleeping with girls on the road, and I couldn’t come to terms with why. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me. Then when you started to stay in a hotel when you were home it fucking broke my heart. What was I supposed to do?”

“That’s your excuse? Do you not remember the last year and how hard it was on me?” Darrell sustained quite a few injuries, which I
know
was hard on him. But he shut me out and just turned to drinking. Which I still don’t think is an excuse for neglecting me the way he did and for his acts of infidelity. “Abby, I would never fuck someone in the bed I share with you,” his words slurred as he sits piss drunk in front of me. I touch the back of his head to try and calm him down, but he pulls away from me. “It’s like the woman I married vanished.” He looks down at my wedding ring. “Before you brought someone into my house, you could’ve talked to me. We could’ve worked on things. Now it’s all fucked up, so what’s the point anymore?”

“Stop saying that,” I whisper and touch his hand.

He ignores me and asks, “How long have you been fucking that guy, for real?”

I stare at him and shake my head knowing I can’t be honest. The truth would spin this all way out of control. “Just the once, and I’m sorry for it, you have to know that.”

It’s a lie, a selfish one at that, but I can’t take more of his anger. I need him gone.

He looks at me and says, “Me too, Abby.” I’m not sure how to help things. He pushes my hand away and stands up, a little wobbly. Then he walks out of the bedroom clearly defeated, hurt that he’s lost his control over me.

As the ice hits his glass, again, and resounds through the house, his draw to drinking sends a sudden anger over me and I storm out of the bedroom searching for him. He’s pouring his regular drink and takes a sip, glaring at me.

“You don’t get to be the only one asking all of the questions. You act like this is all my fault, when you’ve fucked other women.”

He shrugs his shoulders and I have to know why, why was I not enough for him? What was wrong with me? “Why did you cheat on me in the first place?” I ask outraged, “Why did you stop coming home?”

Setting his empty glass down, he looks over at me and says, “Because I’ve never fucking loved you, Abby. Are you really that blind?”