Wilson's Hard Lesson (51 page)

Erin woke up the next morning to find herself alone – not
just in bed, but in the house.  She had fallen asleep before Mom came home.  If
she and Michael had fought, Erin would not have noticed.  She got up and
dressed.  She felt tender from taking Michael’s big cock not once but twice. 
Unfortunately, that sensitivity just served as a physical reminder of what she
had done. 
This was a mistake,
she thought.

The dining room looked like it always did when not in use. 
No one would ever know that Erin had been nailed across that table last night
by a man almost twice her age and married to her mother. 
God, Mom is going
to find out.  I just know it.  She’ll kill me.  Or Michael.  Or both of us. 
Damn!

She knocked on the door to the master bedroom and then poked
her head inside.  The bed had been made, everything looked in order.  Out of
curiosity, she went to Michael’s dresser and opened the drawers to find his
clothes still inside.  Okay, so he hadn’t left. She lingered over one of his
t-shirts, tempted to take it. 
You’re in this deep enough; stop it!
  She
slammed the drawer shut and left the room.

Going back upstairs, she sat down on her bed.  And she made
a big decision.  “I can’t stay here anymore.  I can’t be near him.  We can’t
control ourselves, and I don’t want to hurt Mom any more than I already have.” 
Not that she even had proof that her mother knew.  She figured if she left, it
would allow Michael to focus on Mom, to find his way back to the feelings that
brought them together a year ago. 

She returned to Corrine’s apartment.  Corrine had given her
a key so she could come and go as she pleased.  She had told Erin yesterday of
plans to go up to Milwaukee with her mom to visit one of her aunts for the
weekend.  Erin would have the apartment to herself, which would give her time to
think.

Her phone chimed.  Picking it up, Erin felt her heart miss a
beat when she saw a text message from Michael.

She did not reply.  Five minutes later, another text came
in.

Erin sighed.  Finally, she sent an answer, giving him the
address. 

Michael showed up almost an hour later.  He looked haggard,
like he had not slept, dark circles under his eyes and his hair sticking up in
places. 

“Okay,” Erin said, once she had closed the door.  She turned
to face him.  “Let’s talk.  Let’s talk about how we need to stop this.  I don’t
want to hurt my mother.  If she finds out her husband is screwing her
daughter…”  She shook her head.  “I don’t know what she’ll do.  I just feel
like it wouldn’t be good.”

“You’re right,” Michael said, his voice sounding raspier and
tired.  “Right after I finished cleaning up last night, I left the house.  I
drove around, stopped at a bar, had a few drinks.  And I thought.  I thought
about what we did.  About your mother.  About how I would feel if I had a son
and found out she was had sex with him.”  He paused.  “I also thought about
you, and how
you
would be hurt by all this.”

“Me?” Erin blinked, surprised. 

“Yes.  You may not realize it, but I found myself drawn to
you the first time I saw you at the Pancake House. Physically, I’ve always been
attracted to redheads.  But I had no intention of ever acting on that
attraction.  As we talked over breakfast, I found myself feeling something
more.  A…kinship, I guess you could say.  You’re smart and funny and vibrant. 
I really didn’t hold out any hope of ever seeing you again, and I figured I
would be safe…but then I saw you later that night, and found out you’re my
wife’s daughter…I mean, neither of us knew, up until that moment…but those
feelings in me, the feelings that formed in that first meeting, weren’t showing
any signs of changing.  And the more your mom pushed us to hang out together
and get to know each other better, the deeper I felt myself descending.  I
hated it.  Right now, I hate myself, more than anything.  I don’t know why this
happened.  I have never been inclined to be unfaithful.  But lately, I’ve
started to realize that I might have made a mistake.  I didn’t know your mother
was a workaholic, I haven’t been with her long enough, but when she wouldn’t
make time for her
own daughter
?  Well, that put things into
perspective.”  He took a step toward Erin, closing the space between them, and
reached up to brush her cheek with his knuckles. “And then I kissed you, and I
couldn’t make sense of anything anymore.”  Michael stared deep into Erin’s
eyes.  “You want me as much as I want you, but we’re both trapped by our
loyalty to your mother.  You’ve been trying to avoid me so much, you won’t even
come home. The home where you grew up.  You have more right than I do to be
there.”

“But you can’t leave, either,” Erin said, trying to ignore
the tremors moving through her at the simplest touch of his hand.  “You must
love my mother, that’s why you married her, right?”

“I thought I did,” Michael admitted.  “But aside from the
occasional sex, we’re actually strangers to each other.  She’s hardly ever
home.  You said she’s always been like that and you’ve had years to adapt to
that behavior, but I thought it was just temporary.  I thought it happened once
in a while.  I work, too, but I also like to have a life away from work – like
spending time with the person I chose to spend my life with.  Going to baseball
games…making out in parked cars…”  As he spoke, he drew closer.  His voice
dropped lower, until it became a whisper.  “Having sex on the dinner table…”

Erin’s breath started coming in shorter huffs, her pulse
quickening.  She tilted her chin up as Michael leaned down, his hand curling
around the back of her neck as he kissed her.  She inhaled against his mouth, a
shaky gasp, but instead of pushing him away she found herself pressing up
against him.  Just as Michael said, they were caught in a trap – not one of
loyalty to her mother, but an uncontrollable need for each other.  They fit
together in every way. 

Michael swept her up and carried her over to the sofa. 
Clothes started coming off.  That voice that kept telling her not to let this
go on had fallen silent.  All Erin could hear now was the sound of her pounding
heart, of their ragged breaths, and her longing for this man who might not be
perfect but seemed perfectly matched to her.  She wrapped her legs around his
hips and her arms around his neck as his cock filled her.  Her teeth grazed his
shoulder and she whimpered in delight at every thrust. 

Slipping a hand under her ass, Michael lifted her up and
turned until he sat with her astride him.  Erin held his face as she rolled her
hips and rode up and down on his thick rod.  He brought one of her breasts to
his mouth and she watched as he licked and blew on her nipple.   Holding onto
her again, he moved them to the floor, Erin on her back on the thick shag rug. 
She reached down and dug her nails into his ass as he sped them toward the
finish line.  Afterwards, he held her close and pressed kisses all over her
face and neck. 

“This can’t happen again,” Erin whispered, as she drew
random patterns on his chest with her fingertip.  Tossing her bangs out of her
eyes, she looked up at him, her expression solemn.  “No more, after this.”

As much as it pained them both, Michael grimaced and
nodded.  “Okay.”

By the end of June, Erin received a call from the aquarium
in response to the resume she had submitted upon her return to Chicago.  One
interview later, and Erin found herself employed as a research assistant and
marine animal care specialist.  She had talked Corrine in letting her sublet
the second bedroom of her apartment temporarily until she could get a place of
her own.

She had not seen or spoken to Michael since the afternoon he
came by Corrine’s place.  He had honored the pact that they made not to let
this…thing…go any further.  Oh, she ached for him.  Those first few nights, she
had even cried herself to sleep. 
This is why I don’t believe in God,
she thought. 
Why would he put the perfect man for me on this planet but
give him to a woman who doesn’t appreciate him?  And why did that woman have to
be my mother?

Bit by bit, she began removing her belongings from the house
in Evanston.  She would wait until Michael had gone to work and go for another
load.  She stopped by the hospital to tell her mother about her new job and
moving in with Corrine.  Mom had been happy for her, and very supportive.  “And
now you and Michael will have me out of your hair,” she had said, trying to
make light of it.  “You’ll be able to get back to enjoying married life with no
kids around.” 

On her last trip to the house, Erin had just finished
packing the last box when she glanced out the window overlooking the back yard
and saw Michael coming up from the garage.  Her eyes widened and her heart
leapt to her throat. 
Oh, no,
she thought. 
What is he doing here?

“He lives here, idiot,” she muttered to herself. 

She grabbed up the box, and started down the stairs. Two
steps from the bottom, she lost her grip on the slightly heavy, cumbersome
package and in trying to catch it, wound up twisting her ankle and tumbling
down to the floor.  “Shit!” she cried out in frustration and pain. 

Michael came running from the kitchen, alarmed.  The color
drained from his face when he saw Erin sprawled at the base of the stairs. 
“Jesus, Erin!” he muttered, and knelt at her side.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. 
No, you’re not.  Not when he’s
this close to you…not when he’s touching you.
  “Please – really – I’m
okay.”  She started to get up only to yelp the moment she put weight on her
right foot.  “Oh, god!  It hurts!”

“I don’t think it’s a fracture,” Michael said.  “Best case
scenario, you just hit the ankle really hard and it’s in shock; worst case, a
sprain.”  He started to pull her arm around his neck in preparation to pick her
up.  “Come on – let’s get you to the living room.  I need the light so I can
take a look at it.”

“I don’t –“

“Erin, please.” 

Despite the sharp edge to his voice, Erin saw fear in his
eyes.  Then she remembered. 
His girlfriend…the one who slipped on the
stairs, causing her to miscarry.
  Erin nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. 

Michael scooped her up easily and carried her to the living
room.  He placed her on one of the club chairs and put her injured foot on the
hassock.  Very carefully, he unlaced her sneaker and slipped it off along with
her sock.  “All right,” he said, “I’m going to move it around very carefully. 
I want you to tell me where you feel the most pain.  That will help me to
determine if you had a sprain.”

“How do you know so much about these things?” Erin asked. 
“You’re not a doctor for humans.”

He smiled at her.  “I used to play baseball in high school,
even thought I might go into it as a career…until I did a slide into second the
same time the baseman caught the ball.  He went to step on the base and wound
up stomping on my ankle – with cleats.  Snapped the bone in two places.  I have
a metal pin in there, now, and have to carry a card around whenever I go
through airport security.” 

He continued his examination of Erin’s foot.  She winced a
few times, even let out a few little curses and the occasional “Ow!” 

“Well,” Michael said, “it looks like I was right about the
shock to the ankle.  Stay right there.”  He got up and disappeared around the
corner.  A minute later, he returned with a bag of frozen peas, which he placed
against her ankle.  “Icing it will bring down any swelling.  You should be
okay, but it’s going to be bruised for a few days.”

“Okay.”  Erin looked up at him and offered a small smile. 
“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

He did not move away immediately.  Erin glanced down and saw
his hand resting on the chair’s arm, very close to her own.  Unable to resist,
knowing she shouldn’t, Erin let her fingers inch over toward his.  Michael’s
hand twitched, but instead of pulling back, he turned his palm up.  Their
fingers laced together.  Erin looked up and found Michael gazing down at her. 
Her lips parted.  She had so many things she wanted to say to him but she could
not make the words come out.  She gulped.

Michael leaned down.

Erin let out a little sigh when his lips brushed hers.  She
reached up with her other hand, fingers threading into his short hair, holding
onto him as she opened to his tongue.  Soft and wet, a loving caress,
reassuring, comforting. 

“What in the hell is going on, here?”

They broke apart, Michael releasing Erin’s hand and stepping
away from the chair.  Mom stood in the doorway, hazel eyes flashing as she
looked from Michael to Erin and back again.  “Marianne,” Michael said, “she
fell on the stairs, I was just –“

“I know what you were ‘just,’” Mom snapped.  “I saw what you
‘just.’”  Her heels clicked hard across the wood floor as she moved to Erin and
bent to take a look under the frozen peas at her ankle.  She looked up at
Michael again, glaring.  “What the hell were you doing, sticking your tongue
down my daughter’s throat?”

“Leave him alone, Mom!” Erin shouted.  She glanced at
Michael.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t just sit here and let you tear into him like
he’s some kind of criminal.  If you weren’t so caught up in work and the
hospital, you would see all the things you’ve been missing – like this great,
romantic, wonderful guy.”

“Erin,” Michael said softly, as though imploring her to
stop.

“Michael had no idea what he was getting himself into when
he married you,” Erin continued, her attention focused on her mother.  “But I
knew.  I’ve known all my life.  And I was headed down that same path.  I was so
caught up in my studies that my boyfriend, Zach, went looking to someone else
for the attention I wasn’t giving him.  The truth is, Mom, you’re addicted to
work.  It’s the reason Dad left.  It’s the reason Brandon and Peter never come
home for visits.  They’re out having lives, they found the balance between
career and family that’s always eluded you.”  Very carefully, she pulled
herself to her feet and tested her to see if she could take the weight; finding
that she could walk, Erin slipped into her shoe.

“You should let me take you to the hospital,” Mom said. 
“You probably need x-rays.”

“I’ll be
fine
, Mom,” Erin said, with a sigh of
frustration.  She looked at her mother again.  “Right now, I think you and
Michael need to have a nice, long talk…and when you do, I want you to bear in
mind that one day you are going to wind up all alone, and this big, empty house
is going to become a metaphor for your life: beautiful to look at from a
distance, but cold and void of love on the inside.”  She started to make her
way toward the front door.  She still had the one box left but she decided to
leave it and come back later, or maybe get Corrine to stop by and pick it up
for her.  Right now, she just wanted to get away from her mother.