Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)
By: Martha Sweeney
Forty Seven
As I wake from unrestful slumber, the memories of last night flood my brain, temporarily dulling the pain in my head and sinfully exciting my sex. My eyes open just a tiny little bit as my body staggers to the bathroom from the throbbing need to pee. The very sensation of relieving myself stimulates my clitoris, reminding me of Joe’s tongue swirling over it last night. God — I want him. I want him even more now than I did before last night.
Strolling back into my bedroom, my eyes try to focus on the clock. It’s just after eight in the morning, indicating that it’s not too early to text Anna that I’ll come and get Sadie. Taking out my phone, I momentarily panic, not sure why it isn’t working. Oh, yeah — I remember now. I turned it off in the cab when Joe tried to call me for the third time after I left his hotel room in a hurry at two in the morning.
Once my phone turns on, it rapidly buzzes at me, alerting that there are multiple text and voicemail messages. Ignoring them, I text Anna. “I’m home. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll come get Sadie.”
Scared to confront my actions from last night, I decide to only see who contacted me. Jared hasn’t written back to my message from two twenty-nine saying that I was going home. However, there are three texts messages, six missed calls and two voice messages from Joe. My finger hovers over the text message icon, but I can’t will myself to look — even though I want to.
It takes Anna five minutes to write back that she’s about to run some errands, so she’ll stop by in a few minutes with Sadie. I don’t have enough time to shower, to really shower before Anna gets here, so I decide to wash my face, brush my hair and teeth and change. I’m not interested in looking like a person who just had a hot, erotic, mind-blowing night of sex and didn’t bother to rinse off before having visitors.
The sex — God — was it good. It was better than good. It was — there are no words to describe it, because I’ve never had sex like that before. Is that even possible? It can’t be. It must have been a fluke — a first-time luck kind of thing. My curiosity is peaked. I definitely need to f*ck Joe again to find out. Will he want to? I mean — maybe it wasn’t that good for him. Maybe I’m just left wondering and will never know. Is this what it’s like for some of the men I’ve slept with only once? Is that why Chris is the way he is with me? This is torture — sheer torture!
The apartment buzzer goes off right as I’m in the middle of unpacking the bags I took with me for Maggie’s and Henry’s wedding weekend.
“Hi, Anna. It’s open. Just come right in when you get up here,” I instruct with my finger on the intercom button.
The sound of Sadie’s paws running across the wooden floor energizes me as I finish checking myself in the bathroom. Sadie and I eagerly greet each other at the base of my bed.
“Hey, pretty girl!” My hands rub Sadie in all her favorite places as she bangs into my body, almost making me fall from my squatting position. “I missed you too, sweetie!”
Sadie follows me the few steps out to the living room as I go to meet Anna. My eyes deliberately blink a second and third time when I don’t see Anna in my apartment — I see Joe.
“Hey . . .” my voice weakly greets.
“Hi . . .” Joe returns, sounding shaky and tired.
“Where’s Anna? Is she okay?” I ask.
I’m not sure why he came instead.
“She’s fine. I offered to bring Sadie. I . . . .” He’s trying to sound like himself, but I hear a slight difference in his voice.
“What are you doing home?” I stupidly inquire.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Yeah . . . .” I say, glancing down for a second, embarrassed — I know the feeling.
“Did I . . .” he pauses like he’s search for the right words. “Did I . . . do . . . something wrong?” Joe’s lack of sleep is suddenly more apparent on his face.
“What do you mean?” I reply, confused by his implication.
“Last night . . .” his voice trails and his head slumps down.
“No,” I offer quickly. I find myself within an inch of his body. “Why would you think . . . .”
“You left,” he says cutting me off, sounding defeated.
Barely a second after hearing Joe’s words, my lips take his. My body has the uncontrollable need to comfort him — and probably myself too, but I’m not sure why. I’m surprised when only his lips move, chasing mine slightly when I pull away.
“I never stay,” I meekly utter. “I . . . It’s . . . .”
A tiny, nervous chuckle escapes his throat. “I forgot about that rule,” he admits, tentatively lifting his hand to my face.
Leaning into his palm, I reply, “Yeah.”
Joe finally lifts his gaze back up to mine, but he doesn’t say a word. He glides his thumb back and forth over my cheek and I revel his touch.
“I was a little nervous about breaking two rules at the same time in one night,” I try to joke lightly.
“Yeah . . .” he answers, placing his other hand on my hip.
“Sorry,” I sincerely admit.
“Don’t be . . .” he consoles, pressing his forehead to mine.