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The Man Next Door Ch. 01

By: GirlintheMoon



God, I loved my husband.

Will was tanned, blonde and gorgeous. His hair was careless, his eyes intelligent and grey, and his lips forever curved in a smile. He could have had any woman he wanted. And for some reason, he wanted me.

Of course he never relied on his looks. Truthfully, he was hardly aware of them. When he first approached me in college I thought he was going to ask to borrow a pen or something. Instead, he sat down beside me and chatted with me. After four classes he asked for my number. After six we were a couple.

I wasn't a looker. Kids weren't running away from me or anything, but I'd never been considered a beauty. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a face too serious--according to my mother, at least. 

When we first started dating, both sets of our friends were puzzled. Will's friends confessed he had a penchant for blonde Amazon-like girls with perfect proportions and red manicures. My friends couldn't believe he didn't have tattoos. I went through a Bad Boy stage right before we met.

Somehow, someway, we made it work. Like I said, I loved him and he loved me.

He was a teacher. I was an accountant. We married young and were always stressed out. After we were husband and wife, our passion obviously cooled. The love was still there, but we were exhausted all the time. Sex dwindled from daily to weekly, and eventually to monthly. Our lives became domestic. Familiar. Humdrum.

The biggest thing that could happen to us next would be parenthood, which we assumed was right around the corner.

And then Jackson moved in next door and shot our whole American Family Plan to shit.

__________________

Fall was just beginning to make its presence known when Will and I had our first big fight.

"Ashley, what the fuck do you want me to do? Seriously." Will threw the steak he just grilled onto the counter.

"I don't know- say 'no' for a change?"

He rubbed his face in exhaustion. "I don't even get why you're making such a big deal out of this."

"Um, maybe because you already come home at 7 every night by the time you make it across the bridge." I hated how I sounded- like an immature, petulant teenager. I just couldn't help it. "Now you signed up for extra help 3 nights a week. Fuck if I know what time you'll be home now."

"This is extra money for us, Ashley. It won't be forever." Will took a deep breath and gave me a soft look that usually melted me. "Try to understand, babe. It's not that I don't want to be here."

He went to touch me and I shifted away, still pissed and frustrated.

"When you get home you're like a zombie. You're not home to have dinner with me. You don't even kiss me. You're too tired, too cranky. It's like--you work yourself so hard. And for what? You're just a--" but I stopped myself before I said the words that would undoubtedly wound him. Too late, it seemed, as his face changed.

Will's eyes narrowed. "Go on. Say it. Say what you've been dying to say ever since we got married. That I'm 'only' a teacher. That I was supposed to be a big name author, and I'm just a teacher." He stepped closer and I backed away. He was fuming. "Say it."

Minutes passed. He finally looked away from me and grabbed his keys.

"Where are you going?" I asked meekly.

The slamming door was his only response.

_______________

When he still hadn't come home by 10, I took a bottle of red wine with me out on the porch. It was a clear night. I felt like I could see every star. It was chilly but I didn't feel like running in for a blanket, so I took a swig straight from the bottle.

I almost spilled the whole thing when I heard a low laugh.

"Slow down, Sweetheart. What will the neighbors think?"

A man stood in the driveway next to me, silhouetted in his porch light. I could make out the glow of his cigarette and that he was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Something about him made my stomach do a little swoop, even though I couldn't see his face. I rolled my eyes. How 2007 of me. Back then, he'd be just my type.

I watched him breathe out smoke. It was a hypnotizing sight.

"I just moved in last week. I'm Jackson."

"Oh, right," I said, finally finding my voice. I remembered seeing the moving van. "I meant to come over and say hello."

"Oh, yeah?" I could hear the smile in his voice. He came more into the light. He was scruffy with copper-colored hair. Deep green eyes scanned down my body, cataloguing my yoga pants, my ratty t-shirt. My hair was in a sloppy ponytail and I was sure my face was a mess from crying. I wished I had fixed myself up a bit. Then I realized how foolish that was. What the hell did I care what he thought of me?

"My name is Ashley." I smiled and nodded back at my house. "And my husband is Will. Welcome to the neighborhood. Hope you like it so far."

Jackson rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Not impressed with it just yet."

My smile froze. Odd. "Really? How come?"

He shrugged a shoulder and didn't answer. The look in his eyes as he took another drag of his cigarette sent a shiver down my spine. He hadn't answered my question but I persevered, hoping to shake off the awkwardness.

"And your wife? She liking it?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Don't have a wife. I moved in here because Margaret is my mother and I figured I might as well."

Margaret Miller was my old neighbor who just moved down to Florida with her husband. Still, they never mentioned any children and I never saw him visit before. My confusion and suspicion must have shown on my face because he laughed.

"Mom never told any cozy stories?"

I was uncomfortable and I had the distinct feeling he was enjoying making me so. 

"Don't worry about it, Sweetheart." He flicked some ash away. "I'm not her favorite person."

There was a magnetic quality about him, some intense vibe he radiated that made me want to get closer. 

"Your mom and I weren't that close." 

"That makes two of us," he laughed. He rubbed his eyes and then gazed at me for a while, something indecipherable in his eyes. It wasn't amused or lustful. It was just... interested. 

I couldn't remember the last time I felt like an interesting person, someone worthy of a stranger's attention. Sure, sometimes guys still whistled when I passed by them on the street, or a man hit on me from time to time at the bookstore, but it wasn't the same anymore. I typically wore my wedding ring (which currently set my ring finger on fire). That was a powerful deterrent. Also I wasn't so interested in the world around me anymore. A part of me had given up on mysteries and excitement. That part was being utilized for snipping out coupons and sniffing out sales at supermarkets.

Suddenly I became aware that we were gazing into each other's eyes for God knows how long. Even noticing that wasn't enough to get me to look away. The pleasurable burn between us made me breathe faster and with greater effort. Reflexively I touched my ribcage and his eyes followed the motion.

The connection was broken when Jackson dropped the butt and stepped on it. "Bedtime for me." He smiled at me. "Nice to meet you. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around again real soon." Then he drifted back to his house.

I let out a rush of air. I hadn't known I was holding my breath.

________________________

I fell asleep alone some point after midnight. When I woke up the next day, I could hear Will showering. Normally when we fought we resolved matters by pretending it never happened, but this was so big that I wasn't sure how it would go over.

He walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips and cooly regarded me as he pulled out clothes.

"Bathroom's free," he said, tugging some socks out of the drawer.

"Will--" I began, but he held a hand up.

"Just forget it. I know you didn't mean it. It's fine." 

But it wasn't fine. I knew it by the way he held his shoulders, how he wouldn't meet my eyes, how he fiddled with his tie in annoyance.

"Can we just--"

"Ashley." He turned around and finally looked at me. "Forget it. I'm over it. I promise."

The steel in his eyes made me keep my mouth shut. The coward in me was relieved we wouldn't have to go over the nastiness again, but I knew it wasn't healthy. I was also still a little ticked off that he'd signed up to teach extra credit. The little time we had together was precious. How could he sign over even more hours of it-- and without even consulting me?

"I'm sorry," I blurted before he could leave the bedroom. 

He paused and looked at me over his shoulder. "I know."

"I didn't mean it."

He turned his head back and looked down at the carpet. "I know that, too."

"I hate it when you're mad at me."

Will blew out a breath and shook his head. He spun on his heel and sat next to me on the bed, dragging my body onto his lap. He pushed some of my hair back and put a hand on either side of my face.

"I know being married to me isn't always what you thought it would be."

"That's not true, I'm--" but Will put his finger against my lips.

"I know you inside and out, Ashley. I can tell when you're unhappy." He sighed against my throat. "I'm trying here. Really trying. But you have to meet me halfway."

He pulled back and focused his grey eyes on my hair. He always loved my hair. 

"You're right. I'll be better." 

He gave me a slow, delightful kiss that made me want to drag him back beneath the blankets where it was warm and I was ready. Back in the day we'd already have been naked and connected. I might have even been on my second orgasm.

Now Will had mastered the art of pulling away. My lips weren't as hypnotic anymore. My pussy could wait. His hands didn't need to touch base with me every five seconds. My mother warned me that this could happen, that the frantic days of impatient fingers and insistent tongues wouldn't last.

Will took his mouth away, as predicted, and smoothed down my hair with his hands. "You don't have to be 'better'. I just want you to realize it can't be hearts and flowers all the time."

Then I felt like a terrible person. Will was working himself ragged to make sure we lived a comfortable lifestyle and I was getting grouchy because I couldn't persuade him to fuck me all the time.

This time I kissed him, nibbling a little on his lower lip just because I couldn't help myself. He moaned into my mouth but was still able to extract himself from my hold. He sat me down on the bed, laughing as I tried to bring him back with me. 

"Who am I kidding? I like you this way." He gave my lips a lick.

"You'll like me even more when you get inside me."

Will grinned but let go of me. "I've gotta run. I'll try to be home for dinner, okay?"

I nodded slowly. He pinched my nose in an affectionate way and then he was off. 

I debated whether or not I should masturbate. If I didn't, I'd probably be irritable all day. If I did, I'd probably be late. 

And lately masturbating was making the situation even worse. Every time I had a tremendous orgasm with nothing for my pussy to clutch but my own fingers, I became even more desperate for the real thing. It was like a mirage of a great feast to a starving man-- cruel, and it only made the hunger even more uncontrollable.

As much as I wanted to be done with it, to shower and dress for work like a normal grownup, I couldn't ignore that slippery satin between my pussy lips. The silk panties I wore were twisted as a result of my unconscious and involuntary thrusts against the bed. The desire for a quick cum was too great and so I rolled completely on my back and began to envision a really dirty scene with Will. 

One hand climbed up my nightshirt and toyed with a nipple. I pretended it was Will's calloused fingers rubbing and squeezing. More wetness seeped from me below. I tightened my thighs, luxuriating in the pressure on my clit. My thighs pushed up into nothing. 

Frustrated there was no hard cock to greet me, I pushed my other hand into my panties. Immediately and roughly I started fucking myself with my fingers. I gyrated my hips, humping back against my hand. Cries tore out of me. 

Still, my orgasm wouldn't come. 

I figured it was because I hadn't really primed myself. Even though I felt ready all the time now, it wasn't always enough. I ripped my shirt off and tossed it somewhere. My panties followed. Now I was naked beneath the comforter-- one of my favorite feelings in the world. So privately naughty.

I removed my soaked hand from my cunt and got my nipples juicy. The cool air blew against them, promptly turning them even harder. My slick pussy begged for more, so I went back to slowly circling my clit. I let a finger enter me. Then I slipped another one in, and then another, and then another. Eventually I worked back up to the speed I started with, pushing my fingers in and out as fast as I hoped my husband's cock would. 

And then the strangest and most unwelcome images came to mind. 

Jackson-- watching me. 

Jackson-- blowing on his cigarette.

I envisioned his full lips, just a little shiny from him licking them after each slow drag.

"Oh, God," I moaned to myself. My fingers slid easily through my wetness.

It didn't matter that I just met him, or that I hardly knew him. My body writhed in pleasure. I knew I was building up to an exquisite climax. It had been so long and it was just so close. The naughtiness of the whole situation ratcheted up the excitement. 

A new fantasy played out in my head. My neighbor fucking me, his strong body moving inside of me, on top of me. I pictured that clever mouth of his in that cocky smile and gave my dream man a smile of my own. 

My fingers worked quickly and expertly against my clit, teasing in and out of my hole until the bedsheets were soaked beneath me.

Then I knew it was upon me. I was going to come. I kept sucking in air--one breath, then two. I heard myself gasping, inhaling pleasure with each intake of oxygen. 

Finally I peaked in a shivering, toe-curling, mind-shattering orgasm. My breath escaped me in a whoosh. I came back to myself, one body part at a time. My mind was the last to the party and I instantly was ashamed of myself for thinking of my neighbor that way. I was married. Not to mention I hardly knew him; how could the idea of him having his way with me turn me on so much?

I glanced at the clock and saw I had no time to fret over this new disturbing development. I showered as fast as I could, put on my favorite plum dress and black pumps, and did my makeup in the car on my way to work. Just as I was running up to the front office door, I heard my friend Cathy call my name.

Cathy was my coworker and good friend. She was almost fifteen years older than me but sometimes it felt like I was the more responsible one. She was a tornado, ripping through person and place with astounding speed and skill. Cathy was on her second marriage and was a highly sexual person-- and proud of it.

As we exchanged the normal morning pleasantries, I thought of Jackson again. When we sat at our desks that were helpfully next to one another, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I masturbated to thoughts of my new neighbor this morning," I said in a low voice.

Cathy automatically dropped what she was doing and gave me a wicked smile. "Oh? Is he sexy?"

"You have no idea." I bit my lip and fidgeted, making sure no one else was around. "Do you think that's okay?"

"Hell if I know," she shrugged. "Probably not, but if you aren't doing something bad, you aren't living." Cathy's shrewd blue eyes took in my defeated posture and rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. You Catholics." She rolled away from her computer and looked left and right down our aisle. "I have my own fantasies. We all do. Trust me; it's natural."

"Really?" Experience told me that if Cathy said something was okay, that typically meant it wasn't okay, at all.

She grinned at my suspicious tone. "I fantasize about my landscaper."

"But I actually met this guy!"

"So, I know my landscaper! And I've fantasized about other guys I know. Like Sam." She nodded her head at the gorgeous man a few desks away. I looked over my shoulder and caught his eye. He gave me a luscious grin and I'm pretty sure I blushed. "Like I said, it's natural. They do it about us, too, dearie."

"I know, I'm just feeling guilty because I fantasized about him right after Will and I had this great big fight."

Cathy shook her head. "Thank God for the ability to fantasize."

"So you've never acted on an impulse?" 

She snorted. "What? Can you imagine what Steven would do to me?"

"If he found out."

Cathy shook her head in amusement. "Sometimes I wonder which one of us is the bad influence."

_____________

Jackson was getting his mail at the end of his driveway when I pulled up next door. My stomach did a little flip when I took in his faded jeans that hung attractively from his hips and the simple but tight black shirt he wore. His eyes met mine through the windshield and he grinned.

I rushed out of the car, embarrassed to have been caught checking him out.

"Evenin'," he called out. 

"Hey. How are you?"

He flicked his fingers against the wad of envelopes he had. "Tired. Been a long day."

I noticed a motorcycle sat a few feet from him, further up the driveway. He noticed my eyes were stuck on it. 

"That's mine when I don't feel like riding the truck. Hope the noise won't bother you."

"Oh, no," I said. "I'm sure it won't."

Dreams of Jackson on his bike, soaring on dark highways with my arms around his waist came unbidden to my mind. As if he could read my thoughts, he tiled his head and gave me an assessing gaze.

"Ever been on a bike before?"

I just shook my head.

He gave me a soft smile. "Maybe I'll take you out one day."

"That would be awesome," I breathed. "I've always wanted to ride one, just once."

"You have a good night, Ashley," Jackson said, lifting his chin as a sign of goodbye. I watched him walk up the driveway and forced myself to look away and do the same.

Will came home early that night. We went out for sushi and talked about work. Mostly my mind was on that motorcycle. It was as if I could already feel the vibrations beneath my thighs, that throbbing energy working up my spine, my hands pressed against Jackson's tight stomach.

"Ashley?"

I climbed out of my fantasy and came back to my husband. "Yeah?"

"You're miles away tonight."

I took his hand and squeezed. I hoped his proximity would ward off the evil thoughts my mind was conjuring up.

When we got back home I instantly spotted Jackson smoking outside with a couple of other men. My heart stopped when I realized Will would finally meet him. And of course I was like a giddy schoolgirl passing by her crush in the hallways at school. 

Jackson's eyes were already on me when I got out of the car.

"Will, come meet the neighbor."

My husband followed me, not even questioning how I knew Jackson already. 

He came over to us immediately. His buddies hung behind. 

"Hey, Ashley." He nodded to my husband. "You must be Will."

Will put out his hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you."

"You, too." Jackson's green eyes had heat in them when they swung back to me. It was so indecent for him to be looking at me like that in front of Will. It was indecent for him to be looking at me like that, period. 

Nervously I glanced at Will. He was oblivious to the whole exchange.

"Your wife is a great lady," Jackson said.

Will smiled politely. "Thanks, I think so, too."

"And adventurous. I'm gonna give her a ride on my bike one day."

I could practically hear the wheels in Will's head turn. Finally he was making the connection that I knew this guy and I hadn't mentioned it to him. His eyes shot to me and I read the confusion and uncertainty there. "Oh, really?"

My cheeks burned. "Yeah. Jackson was nice enough to offer. I thought it would be exciting so I accepted."


The Man Next Door Ch. 01



"I definitely can't imagine you on a motorcycle, babe," Will said. 

There was an edge to his words. Jackson definitely picked up on it. His pleasant smile turned sour.

"I definitely can. Something tells me she'd be a natural."

Will's polite smile faded. "Well, you're the expert. I've never been on one of those things." He turned to me. "Should we go in?"

"Sure," I agreed quickly. This whole situation was much too awkward to take. "Goodnight, Jackson."

"Goodnight, guys."

Will just nodded, nudging me back towards out house with his hand on my shoulder. 

He was quiet when we walked inside. He tossed his keys on the coffee table, slid his shoes off, turned the TV on all in silence. I waited for the words, waited for his questions. Nothing came.

Eventually I told myself I was crazy, that I should relax. I went into the kitchen to make tea. Just as I put the kettle on the stove. Will's voice was suddenly behind me.

"When did you meet this guy?"

I jumped and spun around. "What?"

"Jackson. Our neighbor. When did you two meet?"

"Two days ago."

His eyes searched my face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't come up. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm just surprised, is all. You guys seem chummy."

I sighed in relief that this wasn't going to be a big deal. "He's just friendly. He's Margaret's son."

Will gave me an interested look.

"They don't get along. That's why we never heard of him."

"I'm not surprised. He looks like a wild guy, especially with that Harley sitting in front of his house." Will inhaled. "Speaking of which, you are not allowed to go riding on it, crazy girl."

"Allowed?" I asked on a disbelieving laugh.

"C'mon, Ash. The last thing I need to worry about is you on some motorcycle with a strange guy."

"I understand your point. I accepted mostly out of politeness. But 'allowed'?"

He rolled his eyes and stood. He stalked over to me, and when he reached me he slowly ran his finger down my arm. His other hand cupped my cheek.

"You're mine, baby. You're precious to me. So, yeah. 'Allowed' is the word I'd use."


I opened my mouth to say something snotty back, even though what he'd said was kinda sweet, but he stopped the words with his mouth. He kept kissing me. We became oblivious to everything except our bodies and the movement of our lips. The tea kettle whistled but we didn't even notice.

Somehow he'd worked my pants down and he was inside me. It didn't take long at all for me to forget about being allowed to do things, about bikes, and especially about my gorgeous neighbor.

____________

The next week Will had to go as a chaperone on a school trip over the weekend.

"Make sure all the doors are locked when you go to sleep," he warned while he put his suitcases in the car.

"Okay." I gave him a warm smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"And make sure you answer my calls and texts."

"Yes, Dad."

Will didn't find me funny. He stomped over and gave me a hard kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes bore into mine. "I mean it. I hate leaving you."

My throat got tight. God, I loved him. The sentiment often got lost in the day to day but I loved him. I even loved him when he was being an asshole.

"I hate you leaving me, too."

"I'll be back soon, okay?" He kissed my forehead. And then he got in the car, waved and smiled, and sped off.

__________

The next day I was idly watering the garden Will's mother had put together when we moved in. Miraculously I hadn't killed anything yet. 

"Hey, kid."

I looked up from a droopy hydrangea and smiled. Jackson was leaning against my fence, an amused smile on his face.

"I didn't take you for a gardening type kinda woman."

I blushed and dropped the hose. "I'm not. Not really. My mother is."

He nodded, shifting his weight onto his other leg. I waited for him to say something else. He didn't. 

Jackson was obviously at ease when it came to silence. I couldn't even handle a minute of it. 

"Would you like to come in for a beer or something?"

He snorted. "I was going to ask you to come out with me for a beer. Let's get a change of scenery."

Will wouldn't like this, but it would be rude to say no, right? I ignored the fact that I just really, really wanted to go.

"Sure. Do you want to drive or should I?"

"I'm driving," he said, like it was obvious. "On my bike."

Oh, crap. Will really wasn't going to like this. It was on the tip of my tongue to chicken out. I could just say I was too afraid, which was true.

Then Jackson walked over to me, so close our noses almost touched. "C'mon, baby. Let's have a little fun."

Five minutes later I was on the back of his bike, screaming with excitement with the wind in my hair and my hands wrapped tightly around him.

________

Jackson knew everyone at the bar, which was remarkable to me considering he was never around much before. Had he acquired all these friends in the few weeks he'd been living here, or had they remembered him from the brief visits he'd made in the past... so brief I never even knew he was there?

It was clear they all admired him. One of them worked with him at the mechanic's down the road. He swore that Jackson would be able to get my car "screaming for him" and that it would "go crazy for his touch". The innuendo wasn't lost on anyone, and they all laughed and whistled at Jackson.

The fact that I was married, which a few of the locals knew, and that I was obviously wearing a wedding ring went unnoticed. Or it was ignored. I was a good-looking girl hanging with their buddy, who in their eyes needed to get laid.

Jackson seemed a tad bit embarrassed every time someone suggested we go home and stop eyefucking one another. I didn't even realize I was doing it until they said it. 

I froze a little after that. My laughs were a bit more self-conscious. The unease disappeared after a few more beers.

He put his hand on my back when I coughed on one thick sip, patting softly and unnecessarily. I was fine in a second, but he kept his hand there. The warm and the weight of it made pleasure streak through my flesh and blood.

We didn't talk much, at least not to each other. I gossiped with some guy about some of the women in our neighborhood. Jackson talked a lot with his coworker, discussing how they were going to fix up this really awesome car.

It got darker and I could feel my phone vibrating for the fifth time. I knew it was Will, but I didn't want to answer... at least not in the sticky, dim bar we were in. 

Jackson sensed my distraction and said our goodbyes for me. He ushered me out into the cool twilight and we hopped onto his bike.

By the time we got home, Will had called me another two times. I answered when my phone vibrated again. I was out of breath when I answered and Will immediately noticed.

"What's going on? Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

Jackson watched me as I lied. "Sorry, sweetie, I took a big nap. I have a headache."

The accusatory tone in Will's voice faded. "Oh, no. Did you take some Advil?"

"Yeah. It's getting a little better now."

Jackson tilted his head and studied the sky, trying not to listen to my conversation.

"I love you. Sorry I can't take care of you."

"It's okay. Listen, I'm going to go take a bath and try to go back to sleep. Call me in the morning?"

Will was quiet for a minute. This definitely didn't sound like me; usually I begged for him to stay on the phone with me, eager to soak up every moment with him I could.

Then he said, "Okay. Love you."

"Goodnight," I whispered before pressing "end".

I didn't know what I didn't say "love you" back, like I always did, but the words froze in my throat.

Jackson coughed when I got off the phone. "That was fun. I'm a little buzzed."

"Me too. I wish I was a bit more drunk, actually. I'm in the mood for drinking."

He smiled. "What--run out of your bottles of red wine?"

"Ha, ha."

"Hey, why don't you come over to my house? I have all the beer you could want, and I make a mean steak fajita."

I felt like the wind was whispering that this was a mistake. My heart thumped hollowly and my stomach was regretting all the beers I'd ingested at the bar.

But I still heard myself saying, "Yes."

Jackson grinned and lit a cigarette. 

"Yes," I repeated. "I'd love to."

_______

A football game played on the TV, but we were distracted. Jackson watched me flip quietly through a photo album of his.

Finally I landed on one spectacular photo of a baby that just had to be Jackson.

He confirmed it when he muttered, "That's Mom and me."

I traced his little baby face. "You were so cute!"

"She didn't think so." I looked up at him and saw him take a big gulp of beer.

"You're so bitter about your childhood."

His eyes sliced to mine. "Aren't we all? Aren't you?"

"Maybe, but I don't spend much time talking about it."

"No," Jackson agreed. "You don't talk much about yourself at all. Shouldn't I be the mysterious one?"

I gave him a smile. "You are. Please don't get any more mysterious on me; I can't handle you as you are."

He didn't smile back. Instead he watched me as I turned page after page, marveling at what an innocent kid he was back then. I was fascinated by the little boy grinning back at me from photo to photo, carefree and happy. It was hard to reconcile this kid with the brooding, jaded man beside me.

Then I thought about my childhood photos. Me in various school uniforms, at the prom, at graduation. I was sure that my smiles over the years, from the toothless to the toothsome, would shock Jackson, too. I doubted he would be able to reconcile the bubbly girl I was in the past with the cynical woman I was now.

The woman who very much wanted in his pants, wedding vows or not. 

"You seem distracted."

I looked up from the photo album. "Oh, no. I'm not. Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Jackson tilted his head, taking in everything about me--my expression, my hair, my dress, my stance. 

"Nothing. I'm sor--"

"Please don't say you're sorry again. You've apologized for fifty different things since you came over tonight."

I had to pinch myself to stop from saying it again. Jackson either caught me or knew what I was thinking because he gave me a little smile.

"Such a goody two-shoes you are."

"Excuse me?" I snorted. "Not even close."

"Yeah, you are," he said, resting back on his elbow. He studied me and nodded to himself. "The epitome of one."

"I am not."

An eyebrow went up. "Really? Why do you want everyone to like you so badly?"

"I don't," I said in a snotty voice. "What makes you think that?"

"You want me to like you very, very badly." 

It was as though he threw ice water all over me. It was humiliating that he picked up on that, and even more so that he said it out loud. Nevermind that I fucking blushed in response. I couldn't even pretend that it wasn't true. 

"Just because I'm friendly doesn't--"

"I don't think you're friendly," he interrupted. He was still cool and calm as I hyperventilated and got red in the face. 

This whole thing was so fucked up. I shouldn't be over his house while my husband was away, sipping on Bud Lights and talking about how much I wanted him to like me. I sounded like a teenager and it had to stop. I was about to say goodnight when he continued.

"I think you have no intentions of being friendly with me."

That made me pause.

"You don't want us to bond over morning coffee, or have me water your plants while you go on vacation." He shifted closer to me, his mouth far too near for me to be comfortable. "You want me to fuck you. Hard."

I gasped. I couldn't help it. 

Liquid fire exploded in my chest, my stomach and my pussy. My nipples hardened and I just wanted his mouth on me. I'd participated in dirtier talk but it didn't matter. It was the way he said them, the tone of his voice and the flicker in his eyes. He spoke such simple words and yet they officially undid me. If he asked for anything just then, it would have been his. 

Instead I watched as he pulled away, grabbed the remote, and turned up the sound on the game. Eventually my mouth shut but my body couldn't catch up with my mind. It still simmered, craving touch of any kind.

"You're unbelievable," I said.

Jackson grinned. "Yeah."

______

I fell asleep at some point. Football was never stimulating to me, and we'd had a lot of beer. I woke up with heat to the back of me and draped over my side. It took my sleep-addled mind a moment to figure out that the "heat" was Jackson's body. He slept soundly behind me on the couch. The TV was on, its low hum and dimly flashing lights were almost enough to lull me back into sleep.

Then Jackson moved closer to my back and I felt it.

He was hard and pressing insistently into my ass. Fuck.

"Ashley," he breathed against my ear.

I didn't know if he was awake, or fully awake. It didn't matter.

"Shhh." I reached behind me and grabbed his hand, dragging it so that it came around to clutch my breast. Tears came to my eyes. "Don't say anything. Please."

His sigh was long and I knew then he was as wide awake as I was.

Jackson kissed my ear. His fingers massaged my breast and his thumb circled around my nipple endlessly. He tugged my shirt and bra to the side to get better access.

And then we moved together like it was coordinated, like we had always moved this way together. He slid my skirt down, plucking my thong along with it. I moved restlessly, fucking him through his jeans. I didn't want to think about how wrong all this was, because if I did I wouldn't want to stop. And I didn't want to stop.

I put my hand behind my body and pushed at his hands impatiently. Finally he tore off his jeans, and his boxers along with them. His slick cock rubbed against the skin of my ass.

"Ashley," he tried again.

"Shut up," I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks in endless trails. 

He kissed my neck and hunched over my body, using his hand to insert his cock in my desperate pussy. It didn't take long for him to rut into me, pushing his considerable length into my sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," he groaned.

I sank my fingers into the plush couch and got fucked. I couldn't remember ever being pounded like this, and so quietly, too. The only sounds were the TV's murmurs, Jackson's grunts, and my own heavy panting.

His thrusts were rushed, my cunt was soaked, and my entire body was locked with pleasure. I couldn't remember being this aroused in a long time. His cock barely had any resistance every time he plowed inside me, his actions growing ruthless and violent.

He was close to cumming, and I could tell by his focused speed he had every intention of getting there soon.

But he didn't forget about me. He moved his weight off of me and stood, roughly turning me so that I was bared to him for his visual pleasure. He twisted a nipple, rammed a finger in my pussy, grinned when I cried out. The fierce shade of his cock awed me. So ready to burst.

He leaned over me and kissed me, his tongue sweet and purposeful as it moved against mine. It was the most passionate kiss I've ever received. 

Before the stars could fade from my eyes, he had three fingers furiously fucking me. My entire body seized and I grabbed his arms. 

"Please," I begged him.

His eyes glittered with satisfaction.

"Oh my God!" My entire body lifted and shook as I prepared to have an orgasm.

The entire process was thrown off when he shoved his prick right back inside, fucking me through the most violent orgasm I'd ever had. My eyes rolled backwards and my voice screamed unintelligible things in a tone I'd never heard. My pussy dripped with each contraction and sucked him in deeper.

He cried out along with me. Just as I was coming down, he yanked himself free and fucked his cock with his huge hand. The other hand squeezed my tit tight until I screamed out.

And then he erupted jets of cum that scalded my flesh. His bellows were desperate in my ear. Finally he collapsed next to me, rubbing my cum-drenched belly.

"Holy shit."

I stared at the ceiling--blue, purple,red. The news was on now. Facts were recited by the TV in a monotone voice. And I'd just fucked another man who wasn't my husband.

How did this happen? One moment I was a devoted wife, the next I was fucking the scruffy biker from next door. 

Jack's neck whipped to me, and I turned to look at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Every nerve tingled. I could feel my hard nipples against my misplaced shirt. My heart thundered and my worn-out cunt begged another round.

I snuggled up against his cool body, unable to answer him with words.

Because what could I say? "Amazing, since I fucked someone other than my husband?" "Alive, because I let a stranger's cock inside me?" "Horrified, because I betrayed the one man in this world who would never intentionally hurt me?"

I couldn't say anything. So I laid nestled around his body, saying nothing.



The Man Next Door Ch. 02



I woke up to a slight headache and a boner stabbing my ass.

For a moment I thought I was in my own bed and that the cock belonged to Will. 

Slowly I realized that 1.) I was not home and 2.) I could smell Jackson's cologne.

Snapshots of the night before slapped me in the face, one after the other. 

Oh, shit.

At least we'd had the sense of mind to clean ourselves up the night before. I didn't need this situation to be any stickier. I felt disgusting enough without the evidence of the night before all over me.

Then Jackson's coarse hand moved across my stomach and his mouth kissed the back of my ear. He was awake. I didn't have a chance to slink off back home and shower. There was no pretending this didn't happen, even if I wanted to.

"It's too early to have a meltdown," Jackson murmured against my neck. "Let me fuck you first. Then you can freak out."

"Wait," I said, my voice rough. "I can't do--"

"You already have."

"Jackson." My nipples were hard against the camisole I still wore. How fucking horrible was I, that another man's touch could make me so turned on? So wet?

And what about Will? What the fuck was I going to do about him? Was I supposed to tell him? Or should I file this in the folder in my brain marked "Do Not Share With S/O"? 

"That sounds like a yes." He moved from behind me and stood so that I was face to face with his cock. I looked up into his eyes and he stroked some hair back from my forehead. "Was that a yes, Ashley?"

I wanted to moan. I wanted to taste him and drink him right up. Still, I tried to restrain myself. Thoughts of Will were almost enough to cool me down. "I can't."

He knelt, swiveling my hips along with him in a motion that made me dizzy. I was so caught off guard I didn't even stop him.

My head rested low against the back of the couch, and my butt was just off it, raised in his hands. My bottom was still bare so his shiny lips were inches away from my naked pussy. 

We stared at each other for a few beats. I don't know what my expression told him, but his told me that he wanted to devour me. He wanted to suck me and lick me and fuck me until there wasn't anything left. I dimly thought he might just get his wish. 

And then I couldn't think at all because he'd dropped his head onto my lap and licked. The rest of the world dropped away-- all of my responsibilities, my oaths, my promises. 

I screamed, I cried, I swore. I clung to his hair and desperately thrust up into his face. I could feel him smiling. Sometimes he even laughed when he pulled his mouth away for just a second and I let out a needful groan. It made me feel even more humiliated, even filthier, but I needed that orgasm. I needed Jackson's cock inside of me more than I could recall needing anything before.

"Jackson," I begged. "Please. Fuck me."

His eyes flickered up to mine and he licked up my slit with the flat of his tongue. I shivered at the dirty sight. He plunged his tongue inside with a pulsating rhythm which brought tears to my eyes.

"Please. Oh, God." I slapped the couch beside me. "Inside me. Please."

"You want my cock?" he asked, his throaty voice the only indication that he was as hot as I was. 

"Yeah."

His hand crept up my thigh and he slipped his fingers around my wet cunt. The drenched lips slid against one another in evidence of how desperate I'd become.

"How much?"

"So, so much," I whispered.

He abruptly slipped two fingers inside of me. "I'm not convinced."

I couldn't think straight as he manipulated my body with his hands. A sweet orgasm threatened me.

"I'm begging you."

Jackson's lips curved in a panting smile. Fucking me roughly with his fingers took a toll on him. "That's pretty shitty begging."

My head whipped from side to side. I was helpless. "I need your cock so bad. I'd do anything. Please."

I wasn't even aware of his fingers pulling out or his body topping mine. I only cared about his cock swelling inside me, shoving deep until he bottomed out. It was a brutal, animalistic fuck. Neither of us said a word; instead we grunted and shrieked and cried out.

My body seized in an intense orgasm, sending pleasure from my toes to my head and back again. Jackson groaned, feeling my walls tighten up. It wasn't long before he released inside me with a rush of cum. 

A few minutes later he pulled out and sat next to me, helping me up so I could sit. His cum leaked out of me onto his couch. Somewhere in my foggy head I wondered if it would stain.

"Are you okay?" he asked eventually.

I could barely look at him. "No."

I hated him, hated myself. Hated that my body tingled, that it craved more.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" His hand fell on my thigh, I suppose to comfort me. I jolted up and glared at him. "Don't touch me."

He leaned back against the couch and folded his arms. "Pretty interesting command to make when I'm still dripping from you."

"Don't be gross."

Jackson got up and tugged on his jeans. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid, I'm horrified. I can't believe what we just did. I can't believe it. I can't believe it felt so good."

He handed me my skirt and panties. "Well, believe that. I never let a girl down when it comes to fucking."

"I'm sorry. That was... That was probably the best sex I ever had. But you can't expect me to be gushing over it. I just cheated on my husband. Who the hell am I?"

He shrugged a shoulder and walked off towards his kitchen. "Just a girl. You're not a saint, Ashley."

I pulled up my skirt and tossed my panties in my purse. I'd almost forgotten how to do the walk of shame.

"I know I'm not a saint, okay? That doesn't make it all right, Jackson."

He ignored me, pulling eggs and bacon out of the fridge. "Breakfast?"

"We need to talk about this."

He sighed and finally looked back at me. "I wish I'd fucked some girl from the bar, some girl who wouldn't 'need' to talk to me in the morning. Somebody who I didn't feel shit for, who I'd probably never see unless we decided to sleep together again. Of course I pick the girl from next door, the married girl, and she makes my cock harder than anyone I've ever been with."

I blinked. "I'm not sure if all of that was a compliment or an insult."

His lips twitched. "I guess it was a backhanded compliment."

I sat down. "I feel sick."

He didn't say anything back. He broke the eggs, sizzled the bacon, brewed the coffee. In a few minutes I had a full table in front of me, and the strange man who'd been inside of me watching me from across the way. He kept still, waiting for me to combust, I supposed. 

My eyes watered. Will was coming home today. I'd betrayed his trust. Shat all over my vows. Made myself sick. 

And worst of all, I liked it. I wasn't sure if I would have felt more guilty had the sex sucked, but the point was moot, anyway. The sex was wonderful, and I had a terrible feeling I would want more. Sure, I felt guilty. I hated myself. The nausea rolled in my stomach. My chest was heavy with regret. I kept flashing back to my wedding day when Will shocked everyone in the church by reciting his own vows. I remembered how I used to feel around him--warm, loved. I felt like Ashley.

Now I felt like someone new. Someone I hardly recognized. 

And none of it mattered because in spite of all that guilt and regret I just wanted to kiss Jackson and drag him into bed.

"I'm a monster," I whispered.

Jackson finally moved. He reached for the butter and spread it over his toast like I hadn't said anything. He acted like all of this was totally normal, which made it even more surreal.

"What do I do?" A tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away as if it offended me.

Jackson met my pleading eyes. "Eat."

Then he went back to his breakfast. I would get no reassurance from him, no pat on the back, no encouraging words. He wasn't going to hold my hand or tell me what to do.

So different from Will. My heart broke at the thought. Will would be all over me, bringing me tea, advising me on the next step, offering subtle suggestions. 

With Jackson I was just this woman. I could do what I pleased, and I had. I had done terrible things, awful things. Things that would likely keep me up at night for years and years.

Jackson's eyes pierced mine as he sipped from his mug.

I picked up a fork.

____________________

When I made it home later on that morning I was still as fuzzy and lost as I was when I woke up. The only difference was Will would be home soon. His voicemail told me as much. 

I could hear the concern in his voice and it turned my regret to blistering acid. 

I hopped in the shower, rinsing away traces of another man. Would Will know right away, I wondered? Would I have a chance to confess? I wasn't entirely sure what I would do when my husband came home.

When the shower was finished, I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked exactly the same. I remember trying the same trick after I lost my virginity. Would my cheeks be flushed, my eyes be bright? Would I look like a woman? 

The truth was I looked exactly the same. I should have been pale or disgusting. A neon sign reading "SLUT" should have been glowing from my forehead. But the ugly, horrific, unfair truth was that I looked very much like the same Ashley I did the morning Will left for his trip.

I was in a towel when the doorbell rang. I ran for my robe, stubbing my toe in my process. The bell rang a few more times and I rushed downstairs, wondering who the fuck was at my door.

Cathy stood on the other side. She carried a bag of bagels and two coffees. It was our Sunday ritual. I had completely forgotten. 

She took one look at me and swept past me. The food was placed on the table. Then she spun around with accusation in her eyes.

"Where were you last night?"

My heart flopped over. Where was this going?

I wasn't a great liar so I stumbled over, "What are you talking about? Home. Here. Right here."

Cathy picked up her coffee cup. "Riiight." She waited for me to fess up. As she paced here and there, I shook and attempted to swallow. My throat was dry. "It was the weirdest thing. I called your cell a thousand times because I was bored. I wanted to go to the movies. Finally I gave up and came over. And your car was here, so I rang the doorbell a trillion times. No answer."

My mind swam with excuses. I picked the best one I could come up with. "I was sleeping."

Cathy smiled and took a sip of her coffee. Then she came over so that our noses were almost touching. "Let's get real, Ashley. You weren't home. I used my spare key."

"I--"

"I saw you. Through the window."

My heart sank into my stomach. "What?" I asked in a faint, unrecognizable voice.

Cathy stepped back and pulled a bagel out of the bag. She was torturing me. "I saw you through the window. Fucking that guy you must have been talking about."

I almost fainted. I staggered over to the table and collapsed onto a chair. It truly was an out-of-body experience. 

I couldn't make sense of the immediate world around me. Had I really painted the kitchen walls red? What was I thinking? That was a terrible idea. And those curtains clashed terribly.

Cathy made a noise and I was dragged back to reality, reality far more significant than the decor of my kitchen. She sat across from me, acting like she hadn't rocked my world. She dropped her calm facade and bugged her eyes out. "What... were...you... thinking?!"

I covered my face with hands. "I have no idea." My body shuddered with a sob. "I don't know!"

My friend came around the table and hugged me. "Shh, shh. It's okay."

"It is NOT okay."

She stroked my hair. "Are you going to tell him?"

I wiped some tears away. "I don't think so. It would hurt him too much."

"Don't you think he should know?"

I shook my head helplessly. I wished I could call my mom. My parents moved to California the year before and it felt like a world away. I still called her for advice, but it was different. She got distracted by their dog, I was running around pretending to be the perfect wife. And how this would devastate her. She thought Will was a god. She would never look at me the same way.

Cathy eventually returned to her seat. She ate a piece of her bagel calmly. "Steven cheated on me once, you know."

I stopped crying in shock. "What?!"

"It was years ago." She shrugged. "We got counseling. I forgave him."

"I never knew."

"No," she said.

I just feel like I'm in pieces. I'm devastated."

"Good. You should be. You cheated on your husband." Cathy's laugh was dry. "You should be the miserable one, absolutely." 

"I can't tell him," I whispered. "It would kill him. What should I do?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Telling him right now would be selfish. It would only alleviate your guilt. Make a promise to yourself, to Will you will never, ever betray his trust again."

I sniffed. "Never. I felt so horrified after. And this morning I barely recognized my--"

"This morning?" Cathy shook her head. "You stayed there overnight?"

"Yes..."

Her eyes widened. "Did you fuck him again?" 

My face answered for me. Cathy got up, collecting her purse and coffee. "Therapy. You need therapy, babe."

"I know." I stared at my hands. "It's not right."

Cathy blew me a kiss. "Call me later. I'll be here for you. Anytime."

"Thank you."

She left me alone in the kitchen. The sun set and I hadn't moved. Any minute my husband would be home. 

__________

Will was home later than expected. I'd already made lasagna, lit the candles, poured the wine. I sat in a short sweater dress in a couch near the window, staring at Christmas lights that really should have been taken down by now. 

Soon his car rolled up the driveway. I couldn't see him exit the car in the nighttime, but soon his blonde head appeared around the side of the front door. His gray eyes sought and found me. A large smile bloomed on his face.

"Missed ya, baby girl."

I made my way over to him and hugged him hard when I reached him, making sure he was real. Thoughts of Jackson came unbidden and I froze remembering the sensation of his lips on my body. 

Will pulled me off of him and stared at me. "Are you okay?"

"I just missed you."

He kissed the top of my head. "Something smells delicious."

"I made lasagna." 

Will smiled. "My favorite."

We were quiet during dinner. I inquired a bit about his trip. He asked me what I did while I was gone. When he finished he joined me in the kitchen, helping me wash the dishes. 

The entire time I fought the battle of telling him what I did. Twice. Various scenarios tortured me. Acting like nothing was wrong was harder than flat-out telling him what I did. 

But I remembered what Cathy said and I tried to keep my mouth shut. What Will didn't know wouldn't hurt him. I just had to look towards the future. Cut Jackson out. He was nothing to me.

Later we went to bed. He had the bathroom first. When I got my chance at the bathroom, I stared at my reflection once again, wondering what I showed in my eyes. Perhaps they were a bit brighter. To me, they looked naughty. I could swear that if Will peered in them for long enough, he'd know each and every one of my secrets.

Will knocked on my door after a bit. "You okay in there?"

I flushed the toilet and ran the faucet. "Fine! Be right out."

When I walked into the bedroom Will was under the comforter. I climbed in beside him and instantly found him naked and more than ready to fuck me. It surprised me, quite frankly. Instantly I wanted to object, to slink away with an excuse of a "headache". 

His hands traveled over my body, cataloguing each curve. My eyes closed. There was a time that his touch alone would make me quiver. I'd lose all train of thought, liquify into a meaningless puddle. Become utterly useless.

Now I panicked. I tensed up immediately at his touch. My muscles locked, my knees crossed. My body was literally refusing his invasion. Something deep inside my mind thought that this was wrong, that we needed to talk. I found Cathy's suggestion that we seek therapy one of the best pieces of advice I'd ever received.

If he noticed my reaction, he didn't show it. His fingers inched down my stomach until they found my silk underwear. He massaged me through the material. My body became wet. My vagina was okay with his ministrations, even if my mind was not.

"You smell so good," he sighed. He heaved a thigh over me, pulling me into his warmth. "I need to be inside you."

"I don't think I can right now."

Will took my hand, wrapping it around his hard cock. "I need you."

His lips found mine. How comfortable. How familiar. The muscle memory of my body had me sinking into the sheets, spreading my legs. He rubbed my inner thighs. 

"God, I really need you, baby."

I sucked in air and then let it out slowly. I'd been so desperate lately to hear that. For so long now my passion felt one-sided. There was no doubting his lust by the heat in his eyes, the weight of his dick sliding over my lips.

"Let me in, baby."

I reached down and guided him inside. His entire body tightened. He gave me a deep, rough kiss.

"I'm not going to be able to go gently. I've been thinking about you all weekend."

My heart burned. "It's okay."

He went at it, kissing my neck as he pounded me. He whispered words of adoration, pulled at my nipples with his teeth. It was wonderful, but I couldn't come. I didn't even feel close to it, and it honestly didn't even matter. Watching him getting off, all because of me, was more than enough.

He started tiring out, shoving into me with tired thrusts. "Baby, come for me. I'm so fucking close."

"God, baby, I'm there, too," I lied.

He fucked me hard and fast again. The ecstasy of his orgasm bloomed on his face. When he was done shaking over me, he gave me a long kiss.

He pulled out and continued petting me, groaning every now and then. 

"That was so good. You came, baby?"

"Yeah. So hot, Will."

He kissed my cheek and brought the comforter over us. I turned on my side and he spooned around me, keeping a hand on my left breast. He had to feel the frantic thrumming of my heart, but he didn't know it had nothing to do with the sex.

He began snoring almost immediately. A tear slipped from eye, dancing on a never-ending path over my nose and cheek.

_________

I snuck around the next week, always on the lookout for Jackson and his bike. Sometimes it would be parked in front of his house. I felt like it was his calling card, letting me know he was around. I pretended it was calling me over, and that every time I drove past it and hurried into my house I was brave.

The horrible possibility was he already forgot me. That the kisses we shared, the understanding we had of the other--though it was brief-- were not as significant to him.

It drove me crazy. Did he watch our house through the windows, counting each turned-off light like I did to his? 

As the week eked by, the guilt I'd had over our encounter shrank. In its place reared the ugly head of jealousy. Lust was in there, too. At night after Will and I went to bed, I'd lie there and replay the images of our tryst over and over again until I was breathless and desperate.

I couldn't go on like this. Cathy eyed me at work, asking without words whether I'd been a good girl. I'd always give her a nod, then talk about something else. But her knowing gaze followed me around the office. My regret and my desire mingled together until they were one great albatross around my neck that I was sure could never be removed.

_________________

Saturday came. The anniversary of my betrayal. I was alert and anxious. Will watched me fidgeting with a curious expression. I kept telling myself to cut it out, that I was only arousing his suspicion, but it couldn't be helped. Jackson had friends over, and every few moments we would hear the roaring of bikes. 




The Man Next Door Ch. 02



Sometime after dinner I couldn't handle it anymore. I grabbed the keys and announced I was going to the drug store. 

Will was propped up in his chair, reading some boring book. He glanced at the clock. It was around 9. "Want me to come?"

"No, it's okay. I won't be long."

I could tell he wanted to ask what I was getting, but he restrained himself. I could almost hear his thoughts: "Don't want to be nosey. She's been weird lately but I don't want to make her more skittish. Maybe I'll ask her about it later."

Eventually he smiled. "Okay."

"Need anything?"

He deliberated a minute. "No, thanks. See you later."

Moments later I was out in the cool air. It seemed like every star was out. They were my witnesses.

Jackson stood in a crowd of his friends, a cigarette dangling from his lips and his eyes on me. His friends shut up as I came closer.

"Hi, guys."

A few of the men grunted in response. Jackson flicked ash off the tip of his cigarette. 

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

I nodded. "Just to the drug store."

He blew out some smoke. He looked completely at ease, like a relaxed tiger lazing under the sun. "Which one?"

"The one on the corner of Viola Avenue."

"Have fun," he said. It was a dismissal. 

My eyes blinked a few times. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but that wasn't it. A few of the guys smiled at the ground. It was incredibly awkward.

"Thanks. Have a good night, guys," I managed.

The drive over was a disaster. As thoughts flurried and taunted, I sped through the roads like a demon. What the hell was I thinking going over there? Why did I formulate the ruse that I was going to the fucking store? What the hell did I think I'd get out of that?

I was pretty depressed by the time I parked. I stopped my car a ways back from the store under complete darkness. I sensed a crying session and I didn't want any more embarrassing scenes tonight.

Just as I cut off the ignition, my driver door flung open and a large arm dragged me out. Before I could scream, a hand covered my mouth.

"Shh," Jackson whispered.

Then he fell into my driver's seat, pulling me along. The door slammed and we were stuffed in, with the wheel practically up my ass. 

He kissed me. "I didn't hear your bike."


He wasted no time in skimming my hips with his hands. "I took the car."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What you asked me to," he replied simply, pulling my shirt down so he could suck my nipple through my bra. 

Though his tongue and smell was distracting enough, I wanted answers. "I didn't ask you to do this."

Jackson laughed. His head fell back so he could look at me. "Honey, you have no idea what your eyes told me tonight."

Fuck. "This is wrong."

He nodded slowly. His hand slipped my bra strap down. "But you want it."

"More than anything."

"Feel guilty later," he suggested. His fingers pinched my bared nipple.

I smiled, though I fought really hard not to. "It doesn't work that way."

His lips curved, but he didn't move his stare from the excruciating tightness of my nipple. "It doesn't? Do you feel guilty now?" His fingers traveled down, unzipping my jeans.

"Yes," I whispered. 

His hand snaked in and found me panty-less and wet. "Do you want to stop?"

My eyes shut. "No."

We fucked there, squeezed together. It was awkward and uncomfortable being rammed between the wheel and Jackson's rock hard body. Sometimes we had to stop and readjust. We'd laugh for a few moments, and talk until the passion overcame us once again.

It was the best sex I ever had. 

When we were finished it was hard to come back down, to face the reality that the world had continued spinning while we were in my car, even if I was sure everything must've stopped.

He kissed me. Before he got out, he leaned close to my ear. "Next time, don't make me wait so long."

He stepped out, letting the freezing air in.

___________

It was snowing by the time I got home. Will was standing outside, his cell up to his ear.

I walked up and heard him telling someone, "It's okay, she's here. Yeah, thanks," before hanging up.

He stalked up to me and grabbed my shoulders. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"I--"

"You were gone two hours! Do you know how fucking terrified I've been?"

"I'm sorry."

His eyes catalogued my messy hair, my rumpled clothing, my wild eyes. "Where were you?"

"The store. I got carried away."

"You didn't buy anything."

Frantically I tried to think of an excuse. "I didn't want anything so I drove around for a while."

"This isn't like you, Ashley."

"I'm sorry."

He hugged me tight and kissed my neck. "I was so worried. Don't do that again."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, knowing that would never be enough.

____________

Sunday passed uneventfully. Jackson's house was dark and still. I never saw him enter or leave, and I hated that I cared so much. Terrible fantasies filled my mind of him fucking thousands of faceless girls, and it tore at me that I had no right to mind.

Monday morning I walked to my car long after Will had left. A dead bird lay miserably on the walkway. I wasn't one for superstition, but I shuddered at the possibility this was some omen, portending something disastrous headed my way. 

Then I snorted. I didn't need a dead bird to tell me that.

I walked by, hoping Will would do something with it later. 

When I got to work Cathy was leaning against my desk, a cup of coffee in her hands. Her eyes were intense and burning. She knew something. 

I tried to act casually. "Morning."

"Will called me Saturday night. He was terrified."

I put my purse down and sighed. "I know. I drove around for a few hours, thinking."

Cathy didn't look convinced, but she went to her own desk after that. I typed angrily the whole morning, thinking it wasn't any of her business, anyway. Sure, she was my friend and a friend's duty is to tell you when you're fucking up. She did that for me. I couldn't stop fucking up right now, even though I wanted to badly, and her constant judging wasn't helping matters.

By noon my stomach was so unsettled that I started to wonder if I was developing an ulcer.

My boss came over around 3. Bob scanned my desk with a strange amount of interest. Goosebumps rose all over my skin. Something was up.

Bob handed me a few spreadsheets with an apologetic smile. "Is everything okay with you?"

I took the sheets and looked them over. "Yeah, why?"

"There were a lot of errors on these spreadsheets, Ashley. It isn't like you."

I had difficulty speaking. "Errors?"

Bob nodded and then shrugged. "A few computations were very off. Maybe we've been working you too hard."

"No, not at all. I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well and--"

"Don't worry about it, Ashley. It's not a huge issue. At least, not yet. I just wanted to make you aware."

I forced myself to swallow. "Of course. It won't happen again."

He touched my shoulder. "I'm sure it won't."

After he walked away, Cathy came over to my side. She picked up the papers and made a noise in her throat. "This affair is really messing with you."

"Look, I didn't tell you about it to have you throw it in my face every five seconds." I realized how loud I was getting and looked around to make sure I hadn't garnered any more attention. "I'm really trying to be better."

"Really? Is that why you went to fuck your lover boy on Saturday?"

My eyes widened and I swear my heart stopped.

She shook her head. "I wasn't sure that's what you did until right now. What is going on with you? This is just so not like you."

I could hardly look at her. "I can't control myself."

"Did you look into therapists? I can give you a name."

I sniffled. "Okay."

She stroked my hair. "Sorry to be such a meanie. I just love you, and I feel responsible for you. Especially since you can't run to your mom for advice now."

"I know. Thank you."

"Do you think maybe you should tell Will now? It might make you stop."

My head snapped up and I shook it frantically. "No. No, I can't. I promise I won't see Jackson again."

Cathy's expression turned stern. "Good. Or else I'll have to tell Will, myself."

My inhale was sharp. "You wouldn't. That would be so wrong. You wouldn't."

She nodded. "To save you from yourself, I would."

"It's none of your business!"

"You're my business. You're my best friend and I refuse to see you throw away everything you have because of some bad boy in a leather jacket!"

She returned to her chair, leaving me a shaking mess.

_______________________

Cathy and I didn't talk much for the rest of the day. We were pissed at one another. We both had our reasons, but I thought she was especially in the wrong. She was my friend! She was supposed to stand by me through the bad, not run behind my back and tell my husband. I was going to have to be extra careful now.

Then I realized what I was thinking and smacked myself. There would be no need to be careful. Jackson and I were done. Let him bring those girls home from that seedy bar, girls wearing too much lipstick and not enough skirt. I'd bring counseling up to Will. He would go along with it. I knew it from the whisper of concern in his face lately.

When I got home, I walked up to the house in total distraction. My heel was a half step away from crunching down on that damn bird. Will had left it there, grey and lifeless, for me to take care of. Its feathers were matted down, its feet stiff and in the air. Its beady eye stared back at me as I inspected it.

I grabbed the shovel, cursing Will under my breath. I scooped it onto it  wondered what the fuck to do with it now. It seemed wrong just tossing it in the trash. 

Sighing, I brought it along with me into the backyard. On my hands and knees, I dug an adequate grave. I placed the bird inside and moved the dirt back on top.

"Should we say a few words?"

I jumped and turned back. Jackson leant against our fence.

"Can you please stop doing that?"

He lifted his eyebrows.

"That fucking sneaking-up-on-me bullshit? I've had enough scares lately, thank you."

"Been worried, sweetheart?"

"Shh." I looked back at the house. All I could make out through the window was the flashing of the TV. "Go home."

"Yeah, yeah. Can I see you tomorrow?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

I ran a hand through my hair and laughed mirthlessly. "This isn't a joke, Jackson. This is my life."

"I wasn't aware I was laughing."

"I can't see you again."

He stood up tall and tilted his head. "You will."

"I can't!"

He rubbed his jaw, not before I caught the smile on his face. "Okay. Whatever you say. Goodnight, Ashley." He made his way back to his house.

Fuck. Why did I feel like there was a string attached to the both of us, connecting me to him? It was so annoying. As he took each step away from me, my heart beat in a furious staccato, begging me to follow him.

My feet moved before my brain could stop them. My heels stuck in the dirt as I ran after him. He was just reaching his back door when I jumped on his back, hugging him with all the ferocity I could muster.

"Ashley."

"Be quiet."

"It's not that dark out. People will see."

I squeezed him harder. "I don't want to stop seeing you."

"I know."

"I have to, though."

He was silent. 

"Can't you understand?"

"All I understand is how much I want to bring you upstairs."

The threat in those words was enough to make me free him. I walked back a few steps, pushing my hair back behind my ears. My unexpected and needy gesture embarrassed me.

"Come to me tomorrow," he whispered.

My eyes slid to my house. Smoke danced out of the chimney. Will had the fireplace going. He was probably drinking a glass of wine, watching the news. Waiting for me.

"What time?"

"Any time."

I rushed towards him for a quick but heated kiss. 

Then I ran back home to face my husband.

__________

"Ash. Wake up."

I groaned and pushed Will's hands away from me. He laughed. 

"Time to way up."

"I can't."

He tickled my sides. "All these years and you're still impossible to wake up."

I sat up and rubbed my bleary eyes. "I'm not feeling so great."

Will sat next to me and felt my forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"I'm just exhausted." I rubbed his shoulder. "I think I'm going to take a sick day."

Will gave me a disbelieving look. "You never call out."

"Well, today I'm going to." I might have sounded a little snotty.

"You've been out of sorts lately, babe. Is everything okay? Did I do something?"

Instantly I felt horrible. "No. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all me."

He cupped my cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just stressed out." I swallowed. "I could use a break."

He still looked at me oddly, but he nodded. "Okay. If you need anything, call me, okay?"

I kissed his hand.

Finally I heard his car zooming down the street. I jumped out of bed and slipped on my shoes, and ran to the man next door.

_________________

"Sorry, I just didn't like Casablanca." 

Jackson snorted. "You have no taste."

I rubbed the loofa up his dripping wet chest, playing with the bubbles on the way. 

"It's a blah movie."

He shifted in the water and pinched my ass. "Ow!"

"You're supposed to agree with everything I say. That's how this works."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. His face made me smile, so I kissed him.

We were quiet for a while after that. I loved his tub. Baths were everything to me, and that he had such an awesome tub made me squeal. I ran my hands over my body. The silky water made everything feel luxurious.

Jackson watched me with sleepy eyes, his head resting on the tiled wall. 

"Are you going to leave your husband?"

 I froze. He moved his hands to my shoulders, kneading them to soothe me. I relaxed a little. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"

"Don't you?"

I wasn't sure what he was asking. Did he want me to leave him for me, or for him? He must have sensed my thoughts because he gave me a wry smile.

"Yeah, I'd like to be with you all the time without all that married bullshit. It doesn't feel great to know the girl you're screwing is wearing a fancy wedding ring. But I think you're unhappy, am I right? Why else would you be in this bathtub with me?"

I took a breath. "I don't know."

"You're obviously unhappy. That's why you're cheating on your husband."

I rolled my eyes, more than a little irritated he brought the whole subject up. "Is that your expert opinion?"

"No, you're the first married woman I've been with. I'm just saying... Why do people cheat?"

"I don't feel like getting philosophical right now, okay?"

He ran his soapy hands up my back. "Why do they cheat, Ashley?"

I sighed. "I don't know why I'm doing this. Because you taste so good?" He squeezed me and smiled faintly. "Really, I think I was just... unsatisfied. The communication between Will and I broke down at some point and neither one of us bothered to work on repairing it."

His fingers tiptoed over my collarbone. "Think you can still repair it?"

I stared at his lips. "I don't know."

His lips pressed down on my nipple. "Are you going to leave him, Ashley?"

I reached down and brought his cock inside me. We stopped talking.

___________

He made us tea while I walked around the living room. Margaret, his mother, had left most of her stuff behind. A framed family portrait, one of the few Jackson said, hung on the wall. Margaret stared down at me, judging me as hard as I judged myself.

I was still in a towel. Jackson was entirely naked. I liked this, this cozy familiarity we had. It wasn't like the early uncertainty you had around a new boyfriend. The butterflies were there, and they were exciting, but we were so adult and comfortable with one another. It was astonishing how little we had to say to one another, and still we got one another so well.

The kettle whistled. I turned my head to the kitchen and saw that Jackson had been watching me. Our eyes met and neither of us looked away. Something exchanged between us in that moment, something that made my heart warm and my mind delightfully fuzzy. We shared something incredibly special. I wondered if it would be enough to get me to leave Will. I knew I'd never feel this way again.

He finally turned, giving me a spectacular view of his ass as he went to turn off the stove. 

Nearly a second later the doorbell rang. Jackson groaned, and I tightened the towel around me. He slipped his boxers on, rubbed his hair, and walked proudly over to the door in spite of wearing next to nothing. If it was one of the women on the block, they'd probably have a heart attack being greeted that way. 

I tried to stay out of sight, but there was really nowhere I could go. I hovered by the entrance to the kitchen, hoping whoever it was would go without looking around Jackson.

Jackson opened the door and immediately his body tensed up. 

"Hi," a familiar voice said. "I'm looking for my wife. Have you seen her?"

Jackson cleared his throat. "Uh, no. I haven't?"

"Really," Will muttered. He did not sound convinced. "Mrs. Thompson, the lady who lives across the street, said she saw Ashley come over here. You sure you haven't seen her?"

Jackson shook his head. "Nope."

They were silent for a minute. My eyes shut and I prayed to a God I never believed in that he would believe him.

"Her car is still in the driveway."

"Maybe somebody picked her up," Jackson said. It was so smooth I almost believed it.

Will was not persuaded. "I doubt it."

"Look, if you need help looking for--"

"I know she's here. Please tell her to come out. Right now."

Everything fell away. If I didn't know any better, I would think I lost my hearing. The world around me became so quiet. I couldn't even hear my heart beat. 

But the lights, the colors, all around me seemed so frightfully bright now. It hurt my eyes.

"Ashley!" Will's scream was frantic. Hurt. Furious. "Come out here!"

My legs walked on their own. I peeked around Jackson and saw Will's body sag. It was as though all his blood had left him, all his muscles had stopped working.

"It's true," he whispered.

"I'm so sorry." Tears came to me too late. "I'm so sorry, Will. I don't--"

"Shut up," he murmured. "Just stop talking."

Clouds covered the sun and all the painful colors went away. "Will-"

"I said shut up!"

His eyes held mine. The anger and uncaged wildness in them made me take a step back.

He turned his attention to Jackson. He stared at him hard, sweeping up and down. He took a moment to catalogue his boxers, no doubt figuring out why we were both barely dressed. His expression shifted to disgust.

"Step out."

I wasn't sure who he was talking to. Jackson looked back at me. Will grabbed Jackson's arm, shoving him into the fading daylight. "You're a fucking piece of shit. You like fucking other men's wives?"

Jackson stood firmly on his feet. "Only the ones who come to me."

Will deflated a bit. His eyes flicked back to me. Then he swung at Jackson. The two began fighting so quickly I wasn't even sure who threw the first punch. I inched toward them, trying to stop them without getting struck. I screamed and pleaded. Tears ran down my cheeks. The towel slipped and fell. 

What a sight we must have been. Neighbors walked out of their homes to watch. Jackson and Will were rolling around, jamming each other's head into the pavement whenever they got the opportunity. Minutes later cop cars showed up. 

They shouted things I couldn't hear, couldn't understand. It all sounded underwater. 

I watched, naked and cold, as my life disintegrated before my eyes.

____________

We sat on a gurney in the ER. Will and me. I didn't know where Jackson ended up. I could only hope he hadn't been brought into jail.

Every now and then I'd look over at Will, hoping for some sign he was okay. I never received one.




The Man Next Door Ch. 02



Will received 5 stitches in his left cheek. He didn't make a sound as the nurse sutured his skin back together. He also paid no attention to me. I didn't blame him.

When he was discharged, he took his papers and walked out of the hospital. I stayed a few feet behind. 

He stood immobile when he got to my car, waiting for me to unlock the doors. As soon as he hard the locks switch, he got into the passenger seat.

The radio was on as we made the long, surreal drive back. Halfway home Will punched at it, effectively turning it off. I listened to him breathing for the rest of the ride.

Once we pulled up he jumped out of the car and went straight into the house. When I came in I saw him tinkering around with our liquor cabinet. He took a large, old bottle of whiskey out of the back and tore the cap off. 

He gulped down a few swallows. Only then did his red-rimmed eyes come to me.

"I guess you must think I'm pretty stupid."

I shook my head. "No. I don't."

"Really? I think you do. That, or really fucking gullible. Which," he whipped his hand through the air around us, "obviously I am."

"Will--"

"Don't even start. I don't want to hear your excuses. I don't even want you to say you're sorry." He took another swig. "Your fucking 'sorry' is shit to me. Your face is shit to me."

He walked over to me. I flinched, afraid he would hit me. He caught the movement and stepped back. "You know what you are, Ashley?"

"Will, please," I sobbed.

"You know what you are?"

"No, I don't."

Will wiped his mouth. "A piece of shit. A waste of time. A whore. Take your pick."

"I'm so sorry, I never--"

"Take your repulsive apologies, your 'I never meant to hurt you', and your fucking miserable ass out of my house."

I stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. Then I gathered my keys and bag and turned to go.

"Oh, and I wouldn't bother trying to spend the night at Cathy's."

I stopped and looked back.

Will smiled for the first time since he found me. "She thinks you're shit, too. She tipped me off." 

Of all the shocks that day, this was the greatest. It shouldn't have been. I should have seen it coming. But I didn't, and it ran through my body like a cold knife across my bones. 

He came closer to me. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you." He dramatically lifted a hand to his ear. "Did you say you understand?"

I couldn't breathe. "Yes."

"Good." He finished the bottle. "Now get out."



The Man Next Door Ch. 03



Where do you go when your life falls to pieces?

I didn't know. 

Cathy was my closest friend, and she obviously wouldn't want me showing up on her doorstep. Other friends would be confused and I didn't have it in me to confess what happened. My mother was miles and miles away.

The pain that I not only lost my husband, but my best friend, as well, settled uncomfortably in my chest as I drove around our town. I was aimless, lost and devastated. And the worst part was the self-hatred rolling around in my gut. 

Fortunately Will hadn't put a hold on our credit cards. I checked into the nearest motel and took a long, freezing shower. When I was finished, I sat on the edge of the bed and combed my hair. I put socks on my icy feet. I tried to numb my mind and not think about how I'd ruined everything. Of course that was utterly impossible. 

I flicked the TV on, flipping through the channels in a mindless trance. I couldn't even imagine what my next step would be, but I knew in spite of everything I did, I loved my husband. Or at least I once did, and I desperately wanted to get back to that point.

And how was Jackson doing?

No. I couldn't think about that right then.

I switched back to thoughts of Will. Perhaps I would have to wait until he sobered up before crawling back on my hands and knees. I would have to give him a few days.

After a while I realized my cell was vibrating. Dread settled deeply in my chest when I saw it was my mother. I knew Will called her.

"Hello?" My voice was paper-thin and skittish. I was terrified

"Ashley, I'm so worried. Are you okay?"

I burst into tears and told my mother everything. She told me after that Will called her, drunk and sobbing. She didn't condemn me, but she expressed her disappointment in a way far more upsetting than outright disgust.

"I can't believe it. This isn't the Ashley I raised."

I sniffled. "I know, Mom. I'm so sorry."

"What are you going to do?"

"I honestly have no idea. Beg for forgiveness. Pray he doesn't divorce me."

Mom was quiet for a minute. When she spoke, she whispered as if she wished she didn't have to say the words. "And if he does? What were you thinking?"

"I don't know what I was thinking. Things were difficult between us. Will's been working long hours and I just got caught up in my own head."

"And this man?" Mom cleared her throat. "What's he like? How do you feel about him?"

I sat on the bed. "I don't know. He makes me feel... different."

"Different how?"

"Like I'm not just a wife, or an accountant. He's fun. He listens."

"Oh, Ashley, baby. I don't know what to tell you. There are obviously problems much greater than Will not being around so much."

I wiped tears from my cheeks. "I know, Mom. What do I do now?"

"Do you want a divorce?"

The thought of divorce horrified me. The very word caused a revolt of senses in my body. "No."

"Then work at getting him back, Ashley. Work at it."

________

The next morning I called in sick to work. What difference did it make? I hadn't shown up yesterday. People would think I was still sick, if Cathy felt magnanimous. Otherwise they'd whisper about me, the Jezebel whose life was over, who threw everything away for the cute boy on the motorcycle. My neighborhood definitely thought that. I wondered how Jackson was doing under all the pressure. 

My body seized when I realized how dangerous my thoughts were. I couldn't let myself think about Jackson. Not yet.

Around noon I called Will. It went straight to voicemail. Around three I tried again. Still nothing. I wanted to give him time and space, but I was terrified. He was in such bad shape the night before. I was too ashamed to call any of his friends and ask them to check on him.

By dinnertime I was frantic. I sped over and ran out of my car as soon as I shifted into park. I carefully averted my eyes from Jackson's house and ran into mine, screaming Will's name. I heard a groan from the kitchen.

"Will?"

He sat hunched in one of our kitchen table's chairs. He looked awful. His cheek was swollen and shiny from the sutures, his clothes were rumpled, his eyes were swollen and he reeked of booze.

"Will. You didn't answer your phone. I was worried."

His bloodshot eyes met mine. "Worried?" he asked in a scratchy voice.

"Will," I whispered. My tears were uncontrollable. "Will, please. We need to talk."

He rubbed his face and winced when his hand brushed his stitches. "Could you make me a pot of coffee?"

Thrilled to have something to do, I first got him a cold glass of water and then rushed over to our coffee pot. Will was silent but I could feel his eyes on me. The coffee was just beginning to brew when he spoke.

"What do we do now?"

My pulse sped up. We were about to have probably the most important conversation of our loves, and I was scared shitless.

I turned around and leant against the sink. My eyes roamed over my husband's face. It had always been a touchstone for me. I knew his face better than I knew my own. How frighteningly easy it is to take something like that for granted.

"I want to make it work. I want to fight for forgiveness." I stepped towards him. "Therapy? Anything. Please."

Will looked down at the table, sliding his hand against the wood. "You broke my heart."

"I'm so sorry, Will."

He smiled with distaste. "Sorry? Yeah, I bet you are."

I sniffled and wiped away some tears with the back of my hand. "I screwed up."

He sat back and regarded me with cold eyes. "Do I ask the customary questions? Should I ask how long? How many times? Did you do it here? Do you love him?"

I took a breath. "Do you want answers?"

All his bravado disappeared. "No." He looked away. "No, I definitely don't."

"I love you." The words were released from my mouth before I could gather them up and stifle them down. 

"God, how can you say that? You're killing me."

"I'm so sorry. I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am."

He looked down at the table. "It doesn't matter."

"Will, I--"

"I think I love you too much to divorce you." The world melted beneath my feet. His eyes flicked up. "I don't know much else. Except that I hate you just as much as I love you. I can't even look at your face without imagining..." He broke off and swallowed hard. "And we live next to him. I heard his motorcycle roaring this morning and it made me go crazy." A small smile tugged at his lips. "I shattered your grandmother's china."

"You always hated it anyway."

We both fell silent, reflecting on happier times. 

I remembered my grandmother mailing it to us from Florida. Will took one look at it and laughed his ass off, saying we should throw it out and tell her it got damaged on the trip. I told him to stop being mean, but I laughed along with him. We kissed and grinned while we tore each other's clothes off. We were newlyweds. Everything was rainbows and valentines and kisses and butterfly wings. 

Will shifted in his seat and the chair squeaked against the floor. The sound snapped me out of my reverie. 

"I honestly don't know what to do next. I want to kiss you and slap you. I want to divorce you. I want you out of my sight." He shook his head with a humorless smile. "God, you have no idea how much I want you gone right now. What you did to me. Fuck." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm so confused."

"I'll do anything you want," I begged.

He stared at me, thinking hard. "Therapy. We'll go. I'm not promising anything. It's going to be a long way back, Ash. A long, long way. And I don't know if I can just... I just don't know if I will be able to do this."

He stood and glanced over at the coffee pot. "I changed my mind about the coffee. I'm gonna take a nap." He was almost out of the kitchen when he spun around. "Don't make me regret this, Ashley. If you pull anymore shit I'm out of here, and I will ruin you in court. And I will make your life miserable."

I nodded. "I swear."

Will stared at the floor when he mumbled, "If you ever see that fucker again... I don't know what I'll do." 

Reflexively I peered through the window and saw Jackson's vacant deck.

"I won't be able to handle that."

I squeezed my fist and felt my nails tear at my palm. "I swear," I repeated.

"I hope to God you mean it, Ashley." 

_______

Will disappeared around dinnertime. I ate a little leftover Chinese food. My brain stopped thinking, stopped accusing. It was as if it had temporarily shut down to heal from the trauma of the last few days. I watched mindless TV shows until I drifted off to sleep on the couch.

The next morning I woke up earlier than I ever had before. The sky was just shifting into a lighter blue. Birds chirped incessantly outside. It was absolutely freezing. 

Then I heard Will tiptoeing around, trying to be quiet while he got ready for work. That he could still be so thoughtful brought up a surge of emotion that made it difficult to breathe. I shut my eyes again, not wanting him to know I was awake. Before he left I sensed his presence standing over me. It took all I had not to flinch under his stare. I nearly jumped when I felt him stroke my cheek. I forced myself to remain still. He sighed and dragged his fingers away. Moments later I heard the front door shut on a barely audible click.

That little click sent me sobbing.

_______

If I let myself dare hope the rest of the day would be uneventful, that I could put a hold on my emotions for a while and just be, all those hopes were destroyed when I pulled into the parking lot at work and spotted Cathy sitting in her car. She stared at me through her car window, obviously waiting for me.

My heart plummeted to my stomach. 

Cathy waited until I parked, and stepped out of her car. Her expression was blank. I was half sure she was going to kill me.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out, wrapping my coat tighter around me. 

We eyed each other warily for a few moments. I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly slammed it shut when Cathy advanced towards me. I lifted my arms in automatic defense but the movement was halted when Cathy took me by the shoulders and wrapped her arms around me.

"I shouldn't have interfered."

I was speechless. 

"That's as close to an apology you're going to get."

"Okay."

She sniffled against my ear. "Steven said I had no business poking into somebody else's marriage. I just wanted to help you. I thought I was giving you tough love, you know, and it would make you stop and--"

"Cathy, it's okay."

She pulled away and gingerly slipped some of my hair behind my ear. "I'm still really pissed at you. I don't really think what I did was one hundred percent wrong. And I don't think we can be friends if you keep cheating on your husband. I know that's probably not totally fair but--"

"It's over." I tried to catch my breath. "I'm sorry for everything."

She looked at me for a moment, looking for a trace of a lie. "You better be, shithead." She hugged me again. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know."

"I was so worried."

"I know."

She kissed my cheek. "I love you, chickadee. Even when you're an ungrateful brat."

We walked in late to the office. Bob, my boss, lingered near my desk. The smile on his face was as fake as his hair. "Ashley, hello. How are you feeling?"

"Much better." I tried to smile.

"Could you come in my office for a moment?"

After everything I'd been through, I didn't think I could muster up enough energy to care if he fired me. I followed him listlessly, sure he very likely was putting me on probation. 

He eased into his chair and I sat across from him. He wiped at an invisible speck of dust on his desk.

"Is everything okay with you, Ashley?"

"Yes," I said. Neither of us were convinced by my tone.

"I'm not one to pry--so I won't--but it's obvious you're having some issues with your personal life. It's none of my business, but when it starts interfering with my business I have no choice but to give you a warning."

"I totally understand."

"I have to tell you you're on probation right now. Please fix the additional incorrect forms I left on your desk and have them to me by the end of the day. Any questions?"

"No. Thanks, Bob. I promise everything will be smooth-sailing from now on."

"Will it?" he asked in a patronizing way. "I hope so, Ashley. Have a good day. And say hello to your husband for me, will you?"

I froze. There was a gleam in his eyes, a knowing and mocking sparkle. He'd obviously caught wind of my indiscretion somehow. It wasn't too odd; Bob was the kind of person who knew everybody. He must have known someone on my block, someone who'd caught the tableau of domestic disturbance a few afternoons before.

If he was looking for a reaction, I didn't give him one. I conjured up a sunny smile, rose from the chair with a spring in my step and gave him a peppy wave. "Thanks, Bob, I will."

_______

The next few weeks progressed somehow slowly and quickly at the same time. Will and I were truly like ships passing in the night. He spent a great deal of his time out. I didn't ask where he went. Honestly I looked forward to the alone time. There was a weight to our interactions now. It was uncomfortable and confusing. The therapist we'd started seeing said that was normal.

The one thing that kept me going during that time was the knowledge that I loved my husband, and buried beneath the detached exterior, he loved me, too. I'd definitely fucked up, and I obviously had feelings for Jackson. But more importantly, I was devoted to making my way back to Will.

Still, I became quite the couch potato. I sat in front of the TV, yelling at reality shows and nursing bottles of red wine. It was easier to retreat than to engage Will.

Sometimes I grew nostalgic and played with fire. I would peek out the window and stare at the steady light shining from the deck of the man next door. We hadn't spoken since the incident a month and a half before. Will watched me like a hawk when he was around, and I truly didn't know how I would be able to face Jackson. What could I say?

He symbolized something to me, our therapist suggested. An alternate future. 

There were nights I laid on the couch (I hadn't moved back into the bedroom, yet) and half-convinced myself we were kindred spirits. That maybe in another life, we would have been in love. 

In the stark light of the morning, I talked myself out of such useless thoughts and smiled at my husband. He'd try to smile back, would give me an awkward compliment about breakfast and slip out as fast as he could.

Repairing a marriage was fittingly harder than obliterating one, it seemed. 

The sounds of motorcycles screaming in the night didn't help matters, either.

Autumn turned into winter. When the first snow fell, Will had no choice but to hang around the house. We watched TV together in silence. It was dreadfully awkward, and I was grateful when he said he was going to bed early. 

A few weeks later, Will had another class trip to go to. We were silent as he packed. Both of our minds were dwelling on the ever-present topic of Jackson.

Will zipped up his suitcase and kissed my cheek. "I'll call you when I get to the hotel."

"Thanks."

He headed to the door but stopped and looked over his shoulder, not quite at me. "Are you going over there?"

I didn't pretend to not know where "there" meant. "No."

"Just tell me the truth."

"I swear I'm not going over there."

"Please don't."

I inhaled. "I won't."

He nodded and left.

_____

I didn't leave my house over the weekend, and I knew Jackson was out for most of it, thanks to the shrieks of his bike tearing out of the neighborhood.

Sunday was different. I woke up to loud noises that couldn't have been landscaping in that weather. Then I heard curses and recognized the voice as Jackson's. 

Not knowing what the fuck was going on, I threw my robe on and rushed into the yard with only my socks on. All I saw was Jackson wielding an axe. Then my feet touched the frozen snow and I yelped. 

Jackson looked up from the piece of wood he was eviscerating. He looked like shit. A silly rush of schoolgirl giddiness ran through my body, even after everything that had happened.

"Oh. Did I wake you?" he asked, sarcasm evident in his snotty voice. 

"Jackson..."

"Go back to bed, Ashley. Sorry to have disturbed you."

"Obviously you wanted to disturb me."

He slammed the axe down. He looked very much like the little boy in the picture I'd looked at ages ago. It touched me that he'd been rejected by Margaret, that he clearly had issues with women. He reached out to me and I couldn't reach back.

"I do love you, you know," I said, feeling helpless.

Jackson stopped chopping wood. "Not enough." I could see his breath puff out in the air. I wanted to hug him. Kiss him. 

But not enough.

"I never fucking wanted this."

"I know," I whispered, crying silently.

"You screwed me up, Ashley."

"I'm so sorry."

He finally turned around and I could see he was crying, too. He stalked and, without hesitation, tugged me to him. He hugged me hard. 

"We can leave this all behind."

"Jack, please." I could barely speak over my sobs.

He took a deep breath and let it out. I could feel the heat of it against my cheeks. "We can." He kissed my wet cheek. 

"I can't.'

"I love you, Ashley," he breathed, his eyes fixed on me. 

I let out half a cry, half a laugh. "I love you, too. I do. But I love him, too."

"More than me."

I rubbed my nose. "In a different way. I think you and I would make each other miserable. Can't you see that?"

"No," he said quickly. 

"I'm not leaving my husband."

"You're afraid to, is what you mean."

I gave a little scream. "No. I mean what I say: I love him too much to leave him. I barely know you."

"Don't give me that bullshit. You know this was more than an affair. If you try to say otherwise, you're a bigger coward than I thought. I'm not gonna make this easy on you, so you can just shit all over me and then go back to your little perfect life."

"I've loved him more than half my life!" I screeched.

"That doesn't mean shit!"

I forced myself to calm down. "It means more than enough to me."

"So it's done, then? We're over?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes. In another life, maybe it would have been different, but in this one I'm staying with Will. I'm so sorry."

"That's bullshit," he scoffed.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked off into the distance, shaking his head with a trace of a smile. "Never in a million years did I think I'd ever be begging some married chick to run away with me."

I just shook my head.

He looked at me, his eyes pleading. "Don't make me beg."

"Even if you did," I whispered, "it wouldn't change anything."

He picked up the axe and threw it onto a mound of snow. "In another life, huh?"

"I wish I could say 'Let's be friends'."

He wouldn't look at me, but he hugged me just the same. 

When he moved away, he cleared his throat. "I'm leaving this house. Selling it to a buddy of mine. He just got married, whatever. A family should live here, you know?"

I touched his jaw.

His eyes burned into mine. "Another life," he murmured.

"I hope you find whatever you're looking for, Jack. I mean it."

"Don't say anything else, okay? It'll spoil it."

I laughed through my tears. "Spoil what?"

"Our goodbye. I don't like talking to people I'm saying goodbye to. Silence is best." He reached for my hand and flipped it, planting a kiss on my palm. "I knew you were trouble the minute I saw you guzzling wine all by yourself."

I let out a tear-soaked snort. I watched him breathe into the air, the puffs spiraling and touching my hand. How strange he could seem unknown to me, and yet feel like someone I knew almost better than anyone. "I wish I could have learned more about you." 




The Man Next Door Ch. 03



"Still an engima?" he joked. "At least I have one thing going for me." 

"Thank you." He looked at me, completely confused. "For everything. For listening, for helping me."

"Don't." He shook his head in disgust. "Don't do that. Don't thank me. It wasn't a service, Ashley."

Jackson stared down at my hand as if he were memorizing it. 

"I don't think I'll ever forget you," he confessed.

I swallowed. "I know I won't forget you."

He lifted his face and offered me a sad smile. I didn't stop him when he moved his head closer and gave me a soft farewell kiss.

It was too short, but just right. 

"Take care of yourself."

"You, too." I thought about him leaving. "Where are you headed?"

He shrugged. "I think I'll visit Margaret. See if she still can't stand me."

In spite of it all, I laughed.

He backed away from me, heading towards his house.

"Write me to let me know you're okay?" I pleaded.

He didn't answer me. A few feet away from his deck he stopped and stared. Then he turned and climbed his stairs, never looking back. 

I waited a bit and eventually headed back inside, freezing and depressed. I had a heart attack when I spotted Will standing near the sink.

He'd seen us. Seen everything, probably. Clearly he'd misunderstood. Rage was practically pouring off of him.

Still, his voice was soft when he said, "We're going out to dinner. Dress nicely."

I was about to protest when his fire-filled eyes met mine. He wasn't messing around. 

I ran upstairs and slipped into a red dress, one Will bought for me ages ago.

When I ran downstairs, I noticed Will looking at it appreciatively. When he saw me watching him, he took me by the arm. Hard.

"Let's go."

The car ride was silent. I wanted to explain what happened a thousand times, to tell him it was nothing but goodbye. I sensed, however, that it was best I keep quiet.

The restaurant he took me to wasn't really a restaurant. It was more like a club. Actually, it was just a club. There wasn't any food, I quickly found out.

Will shrugged. "Have something later. My friend told me about this place," he shouted over the music. 

I was instantly miserable.

Will caught the eye of a girl perhaps a few years younger than us, loitering not too far from where we sat. He spotted her a bit later and gave her an encouraging smile. She danced over and he took a few steps away from me to talk in her ear.

I knew what he was doing. He wanted to punish me. Give me a taste of what he felt. Maybe he wanted to end things, and this was the way he wanted to do it.

He laughed when she said something, and she touched his chest. He, in turn, said something in her ear. She took his hand and dragged him out onto the dance floor. He didn't spare a glance at me, but she certainly enjoyed giving me a triumphant smile.

It killed me to see him touching her, of course. It was even more painful to see her touching him. If he wanted to make me suffer, however, I'd suffer gladly. It was what I deserved.

The two of them talked to each other for the rest of the night. At around 3am, Will steered us outside.

"We're taking her home," was all he said to me.

I let her sit in the passenger seat. 

Will obviously wasn't getting the response he wanted, so he took it up a notch when he touched her thigh. The woman was tickled pink. She turned up the stereo and murmured in his ear, enjoying leaving me out. Little did she know the situation she walked herself into.

After a while, I realized we weren't headed home. It became clear a bit later that we were headed to the nearest hotel. The same hotel I'd stayed in all those dreadful nights before. 

Will parked, whispered something to her, and jogged toward the lobby. My stomach turned when I pieced together what was about to happen. This was an utter nightmare. My head throbbed and my heart ached. I knew I wouldn't protest. I deserved this, I told myself.

The girl--whose name I hadn't bothered to learn--turned the radio down and smiled over her shoulder at me. "So, like, I guess you guys have an open marriage?"

I toyed with my wedding ring. "You could say that."

She popped her gum. "You don't seem as into it as he does," she laughed.

"Tonight's his night," I said flatly.

She pretended to understand. "Cool."

Will came running back with a key. He drove us over to the other side of the building. We followed him to the elevator. Before the doors shut, she had her hand on his cock, albeit over his pants. He didn't look at me, so I stared at the doors resolutely.

He unlocked the hotel room door and she followed, giggling and happy. The door nearly smacked me in the face.

Truthfully I expected to be forced into sitting in the corner to watch them fuck. I was trying to prepare myself for that, at least. Imagine my surprise when Will came to me first, kissing me for the first time since I fucked up our lives.

The kiss was hard and angry. He poured every bitter feeling into it and I felt it down to my soul. 

He took his mouth off my lips. "Take off your clothes."

I blinked. "What?"

He reached for the zipper in the back of my dress. "Off."

"Will, I--"

"Off."

I stared at him while I backed away There was no stopping this. On autopilot, I spun around and presented my back to him.

"Unzip me, please."

He helped me out of my dress. Roughly he pulled down the fabric. I heard a piece tear. Finally I was in my bra and panties. I could feel the woman giving me the once-over. How astonishing that would be the least of my concerns.

Will didn't ask me to remove the rest. He did it for me, impersonally and efficiently. I could see his cock jutting against his pants.

"Get on the bed."

I didn't resist.

Then he kissed the woman, watching me all the while. With dramatic flair, he yanked down the top of her dress, letting her tits spill out. His fingers prodded the flesh of her breasts. She let out a pleasured sigh. He slapped her breast and she giggled.

Will nudged her towards me.

"Put your hands on her shoulders," he told her.

She gave me a look but she did it all the same. He must've moved against her once she was in position because her fake eyelashes fluttered and she let out a groan. "Yeah, baby."

Will wrapped his hands around the woman's bare stomach. He ground against her ass, bending her over my naked body. She moaned when he flicked her nipples. The sound was so manufactured and annoying. Will must've known what I was thinking, and as punishment he shoved her chest against my face. Her tits smacked against my face every time he swung her towards me.

"Lick them," he ordered me.

I simply stared at him.

He rested his red face on her shoulder and reached around, squeezing her breast so that her nipple rested against my lips.

"Lick."

My tongue slipped out and I laved the hard nipple. She gasped. "Fuck, yeah."

"Now finger her."

I looked at him over her shoulder. He'd stopped moving against her, enthralled with the sight of my tongue on her body. 

I took my hand and stroked her thigh, absurdly finding it rude to just start fingerfucking her. She sighed and dipped down, her pussy seeking my touch. 

I gave it to her. My finger sunk into her without resistance. I shoved it in and out, rubbing against her soaked clit. Her fingers clawed at me. 

"Lick your fingers," he ordered."

"No, please..."

"Lick them!"

I wiped a stray tear from my eye and lifted my fingers to my mouth.

"You did this to us, Ashley," Will panted. "You. I hope it feels good."

I burst into tears. The woman became uncomfortable and stepped back into Will's body. 

"Stop crying!" he screamed. 

I couldn't. It was the first time I'd really cried in a few months and I didn't have it in me to stop. Will grew restless. He backed away from her and hovered over me helplessly. 

"You should go," he said over his shoulder. 

The girl put her hand on her hip. "Are you serious right now?"

"Just leave," he said with more forcefulness.

She cursed under her breath, gathering her clothes. "You guys are fucking insane. You deserve each other, holy shit."

"Please just get out of here." 

She reared back and shouted, "I'm trying! Get your fucking crazy wife to stop sobbing so I can fucking think! And I need fucking cab money, asshole!"

Will said something but I stopped listening. I was mourning something and I didn't have enough attention span to focus on them.

Eventually I felt Will's arms around me. 

"She's gone," he kept saying. "I'm here."

"I w-was just saying goodbye," I wept. "He was tearing apart all the trees and I felt like I should say something and--"

"Shhh. I know. I knew it then, too. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, I should h-have said something. I didn't mean to hurt you again. I love you."

"I know," he whispered. He brought my head to his chest and kissed the top of my messy hair. "I'm sorry."

I laughed and choked on my tears. "Christ, Will, don't be sorry."

"I... I love you," he said, struggling to get the words out.

"I love you, too."

I moved to kiss him and my hand accidentally rested on his cock, which was incidentally semi-hard.

He seemed embarrassed and jumped away. "Sorry, I don't want to--"

He stopped talking when I slid down and knelt in front of him, enjoying the burn of the carpet against my knees. I made sure to look at him as I unzipped his fly.

"I want you."

Will shook his head. "Jesus, Ashley. We shouldn't. I don't think now is the time." He gasped while I stroked him.

"I want to. I want you to fuck me. Don't you want to fuck me?"

"Yes." I watched his neck move as he swallowed.

"I want to suck your cock first. Give it to me, please."

Will groaned and dropped his head back. I wasted no time shoving my hand into his pants and wrapping it around his rapidly growing cock. 

"Fuuuck," he moaned. 

He pushed his pants down to his ankles, followed by his boxers. He stepped out of them impatiently. I laughed and then he laughed, but I shut him up fairly quickly when I took him into my mouth.

His hands grabbed my hair. He was more forceful than he'd ever been with me, fucking my mouth with deep, punishing thrusts. His cock ran against my tongue and rammed into my throat. I choked, but I didn't mind. This feel so necessary, so incredibly important.

"You want this?" he asked, pulling it away from me when I tried to follow his slick cock with my tongue.

"Yes."

"Say please."

"Please!"

"What would you do for it?" He pressed against my lips with his fingers.

I reached for him but he kept his body away from me. "Anything."

"Swear it."

"I swear!"

He rammed himself back into my throat and went back to getting off.

He tired of my mouth after a while and wanted to move on to my pussy. He put his hands under my arms and heaved me onto the bed. His cock found my sticky pussy and pushed inside. We both cried out when he sank into me.

Hungrily I tore at his chest with my nails. "More, please. More!"

"What a polite girl," he cooed. He sunk deeper inside of me, quickening his pace.

My body bounced against the mattress with every slick slide of his cock returning home. 

It was violent and basic. We rutted against one another, each intent on purely getting off. It wasn't making love, or just plain sex, either. We rabidly needed one another. It was reminiscent of when we first began dating. We slipped into alleys, fucked in public bathrooms and got each other off under tables of swanky restaurants. We weren't weighed down by life, then.

Now we fucked one another, seeking that wonderful sensation of careless release once more.

Suddenly my body tightened harder and harder until I orgasmed with a broken shout. Will wasn't far behind, increasing his speed until he came in fierce spurts inside me. 

We kissed and whispered fractured declarations of love as we came down. For the first time since I messed up, I really felt like we had a chance.

I hoped I wasn't thinking this too soon, but I believed we'd made it through. We needed this, to fuck. To remember passion. It was a baptism by cum, I thought to myself. I laughed against his chest.

"What's so funny?" he asked, a questioning smile on his face.

I kissed his nipple. "I'm just happy."

And that wasn't a lie.

________________

Slowly winter thawed. Corny people made jokes about how any minute the groundhog would spot his shadow. Stores decorated for Easter. Snow turned black and melted onto busy roads.

Jackson moved.

I spotted the moving truck one day, as did Will. He put down his paper and picked me up, bringing me upstairs. He fucked me for hours and did a fairly good job of distracting me. 

The pain came back once we were tired out, but Jackson was gone by then. His house looked eerie and still when I peered out the window later on that night.

Things truly were better than ever with Will and me. It was still hard sometimes, but therapy and the love that never really disappeared was enough to help us through it. 

Then one Friday time slowed down. I had a shock at work and left early. I didn't quite know where to go but after a while I organized my thoughts and headed to the supermarket.

When I got home, I carried in the grocery bags and the mail. After I put away the groceries, I checked the mail I brought in. As if it were destined, a post card with palm trees caught my eye. I flipped the card over. The message was succinct and three words long: In another life.

I sat at the table and wept. When I finally came back to the present, I realized I didn't have much time left before Will came home. I ran upstairs and put the card in a drawer underneath my clothes.

Then I rushed down to the kitchen and quickly prepared Will's favorite dinner- veal saltimbocca, of course. 

Surprisingly Will came home early, too. He walked into the kitchen with a smile on his face. "So, what's the occasion?"

I took a deep breath. It was time to get my head out of the clouds--and out of my ass. I walked over and kissed him. "I wanted to make tonight special."

Will's smile turned into a dirty grin. "Oh, did you?"

"Sit down. I'll pour you a glass of wine."

He happily sat at the table and wrapped his arms around my waist. I poured him his wine and dipped a finger in it. His eyes widened when I lifted my finger to his bottom lip. He made a noise in his throat and kissed my finger.

I stepped away from him with reluctance. Tonight was bigger than us.

"I have something huge to tell you."

Will smiled and picked up his glass. "Oh, yeah? Did you go on a big shopping spree or something, and that's why you're trying to butter me up?"

"I'm pregnant," I blurted in a rush. 

He stayed still for a moment after I told him. His smile fell. Then he set his wine glass down, blinking rapidly. He swayed on his feet, tilting his head to examine the floor as if it held some great answer for him.

He took some steps to look out the window, placing his hands on each hip. I stared at his back, waiting.

After an interminable amount of time, he spun around and took three big steps toward me. He glanced down at my stomach. "Pregnant?"

I nodded.

His smile was slow and staggered. I could see the various thoughts and emotions play out- excitement, fear, hope, dread, contentment. I knew he wondered if it was his.

"It's yours," I said after a few moments, unable to quite meet his eye. "I hadn't... We hadn't... For a while."

And that was the truth, at least. We'd conceived on what was supposed to be the pyre of a marriage. Would it be cliched to refer to our child as a phoenix rising from the ashes of the dead, first stage of our marriage? I don't care--because it was. This baby was everything. He or she would be representative of our fresh start.

Will's warm hands dropped down on my shoulders and caressed my skin. He kissed the top of my head so delicately.

"What will we name him?"

"Ha. It's going to be a girl. I can feel it."

Will smiled at me. "Okay, what will we name her?"

"Carrie. After my grandmother."

He squeezed my arms, letting me know he was okay with it. "Hopefully she'll have better taste in china."

My smile hurt my face. Then he kissed me, really kissed me, and every part of me went up in flames. In spite of everything we'd been through, he could still manage to make me desperate for him with just a kiss.

He took me to bed and folded me beneath the blankets. Then he climbed in next to me, stroking my hair. Occasionally he kissed my cheeks. Shyly I pulled his body toward me, as if we were new lovers. He got the hint and moved on top of me. I put my hand on his cheek and whispered that I loved him. 

Then he was inside of me and everything else slipped away.

Yes, I thought. Yes. I'd made my fumbles and stumbled. I had made fractures in our marriage, but I was back where I belonged. I knew Will better than I knew myself. He was black and white, wrong or right, yes or no. Nothing in between, and I wouldn't have it any other way. We'd been through the fire, he and I, and we hadn't emerged unblemished. I had many scars, and he was covered in burns.

But we were together. He was inside of me, and I was all around him. We made it through. We were going to have a baby. It was the brand new beginning we needed, that he had wanted.

The sex was the best we'd ever had, at least in my opinion. I had an explosive orgasm that brought tears to my eyes.

After he was finished, he dropped down beside me and pulled me close. I felt warm, loved. 

"I want this to be our new future. I want the new 'us' to start right now, this instant."

I kissed his chest in response. He panted beneath me, still trying to catch his breath. We didn't say much more. Eventually he fell asleep. 

I stared at Will's profile for a while. How different he was from Jackson, I thought for maybe the millionth time. So many differences, and not just on the outside. 

As I gazed at him longer, however, it struck me they had a great deal of similarities. The two were insanely moody. They valued the "all or nothing" motto. They loved fiercely.

And both left their marks on me, for better or for worse. Like the masochist I was, I'd treasure those scars in the moonlight, running the fingers of my mind over the wounds with fondness for probably the rest of my life. It was an easy price to pay for my sins.

Will pulled me closer to him in his sleep. He nudged his face into my neck and let out a contented, hot breath against my skin. 

God, I loved my husband.