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A record scratch moment.
Breakfast. Daytime. Reality.
I’ve done this. I used the hall pass. I actually did this. And it was…
Wow.
I blink a couple times as it all sinks in.
I can’t let it sink in here. I need to do that at home.
I should get home. Get home and take the opportunity to spend the next twenty-four hours or so alone. Process. Figure out how I feel about this, about what I’ve done. About the fact that I, Chloe Desiree Turner, took a hall pass from my fiancé and used it. I really used it. I even had anal for the first time. And although it’s sore back there, my curiosity about it has finally been satisfied and I know one thing for damn sure – anal is hot! At least with Derek Steele it is… I’ve heard plenty of women complain about their first time being awful. Not for me.
But technically speaking, have I broken the rules of the hall pass? Because it happened with Derek more than once. Many more times than once. On two different calendar dates, in fact. But maybe that doesn’t count if I consider that this could be technically counted as one session. I bite my lip pondering if the sleepover is a loophole or if I’m kidding myself.
He rolls off me and now he's watching me. He’s trying to read my expression. And I don’t know how to read his because the warmth is gone. His expression is almost icy. Does he see I’m trying to plan my exit?
I should stay for breakfast. End this on a good note with him. After all, he joined my gym, and he goes to the soup place I love. Not to mention the fact that he sees Alannah at his business since that’s her favorite place for after-work drinks.
And… last night was incredible. It was beyond expectations and after the interactions he and I have had up until this, I had big expectations of what he might be like in bed. He absolutely did give me the hottest night of my life, bar none.
But I’ve got to go soon. Decompress. Deal with my feelings about all of this. Sit in an Epsom salt bath for my muscles and my poor butt. Also, consider all the sex I’ve been missing out on and think on whether I want to actively look for more sex like this. Or not. Whether I’m okay with living with Adam and building a life with him while doing things like this.
And then have a talk with Adam, after which he’ll then process how he feels about me having done this, too. Me doing this will change things. Absolutely.
Because he’ll either lose his attitude with me and we’ll move forward or… I already know I’m not about to put up with endlessly being ignored and neglected. I can’t let that be my life even if it makes me a bad person to give up on him. If I give up on Adam, it’d be because he gave up on us first. Because I’d like to think the Adam I fell for wouldn’t want me to live half a life. I know I wouldn’t want that for him. So, I’ve got to find a way to have a conversation that’s both logical and factual, as well as heart-to-heart. Heart to heart, brain to brain, to figure out if we have a future together.
I’ve had all the empathy in the world for what he’s going through, but the way things are these days can’t be our life together permanently.
It feels like dismissing me has become a habit and habits can be hard to break. I’m not going to let being treated like a doormat become my own habit. He seems happy around friends and family, but when it’s just the two of us, he’s not. And I won’t live like this indefinitely. It’ll suck the life and joy right out of me.
I’m feeling too much right now. And I didn’t want to start feeling things here. But I do feel a sudden clarity about my relationship that sort of frightens me. I’m feeling so much.
And it appears I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve right now – or would be if I weren’t naked – because Derek’s eyes are exploring my face like he’s trying to read my mind.
He reaches over and sifts his fingers through my hair with what feels like affection, the iciness thawing, and he says, “Hey, come back to me here. Those troubles can wait.”
“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head.
He leans in and kisses me. It’s sweet, gentle. And it feels a little…inappropriate. Like I need to switch gears.
“I need the bathroom,” I announce. “Coffee would be appreciated. I’m not fussy about food. You don’t have to go to the trouble, but if you… uh… really want to, I’m game for whatever you wanna make.” I shrug and roll away from him, pulling a sheet with me that I wind around my body as I rise.
Oh… it’s the fitted sheet. We’ve totally un-made the bed and slept on the mattress cover.
“Little late for modesty, no?” he asks with a serious look on his face as I toy with the fitted corners.
The tension is broken by me giggling. He flashes a gorgeous grin at my laughter and I rush toward the bathroom embarrassed, but look over my shoulder as he laughs and my shoulder slams into the doorframe. He’s looking like a billion dollars lying there naked, on his side, watching me. But the smile falls off at seeing my klutziness.
“Careful,” he warns.
“Oops,” I quip and flash him a smile.
A hickey. He gave me a fucking hickey. I thought I stopped him in time, but nope. It’s faint, but it’s pretty obvious that’s what it is. And Derek seems like a mature adult so far, so I’m kind of surprised he pulled a teenager move like this.
It’s low on my neck and thanks to Alannah’s tutelage, I’m semi-pro with concealer, so I’ll deal. But I’m not happy about it because hiding it will feel like deception toward Adam and that’s not at all what I want.
There are purplish bruises on my hips where he gripped me, too. They don’t hurt, but they’re here, plain as day.
