30 Days, 30 Stories

Day Nineteen: Feel

She didn’t remember the drive home. All she remembered was how the resentment eating away at her grew in mammoth proportions. How could she have married a man as irresponsible as Will—someone who’d sign away part of their dream just to get more money from his mother? At one point, Michael began to fill the silence by singing along with the radio. His voice cracked whenever he tried to hit high notes, bringing a smile to Cassie’s lips. What Cassie did remember was turning to Michael as they stopped at a traffic light and asking him if she could spend the night with him. She remembered his stunned silence and then the nervous way he’d looked at her. He’d licked his lips and pressed them together—he wanted to say yes, she knew he did. Damn it—why did his indecision kick in just when she’d decided to shove off the yoke of being Will Castle’s widow?

“Don’t take too long answering—there might not be a second shot,” she’d said, her words coming hot and strong out of her mouth. “Do you want me, or not?”

“I do,” Michael said, his voice just barely audible over REM singing “Losing My Religion”. “I want you so badly I can almost taste you.”

That was what rang through Cassie’s mind as they drove on without speaking. Now she’d taken this step, smudged out the boundaries between tenant and landlord. Had there ever really been one? Ever since he’d turned up on her driveway she’d been dancing around the issue that this was the man she’d loved before she’d even met Will. Ten years ago, she would’ve done anything for Michael if only he’d asked. 

By the time they pulled into the driveway of Marlborough Cottage, Cassie was shivering though it had nothing to do with the cold. She hopped out of the car and stalked towards the converted garage. Michael trailed behind her, his footsteps measured. What was the best way to do this? In the car it had seemed so easy to just declare that she wanted to sleep with him. She didn’t wait for him; instead she quickly unlocked the door and then took the steps two at a time to his apartment. Her heart was beating wildly. She knew she ought to slow down, but she couldn’t. One pause too many and she’d lose her nerve. She heard him climb the stairs and her anticipation swelled. She undid her coat and tossed it aside. She unbuttoned her sweater, then thought better and nearly redid them. Then he was standing at the top of the stairs, his blond hair shining in the dim light. His movements were slow, almost measured, as he too removed his vest and scarf. When they were face to face again she tried to ignore the tight expression on his face. She smoothed it away and kissed him, tentatively at first. His lips were soft under hers. When his arms slid around her she pulled him closer and she knew he wanted her, she felt it in the strength of his arms and the slow slide of his hands over the curve of her ass. 

“Are you sure?” he murmured in her ear. 

Nodding, she stepped back just enough to lead him down the dark hallway to the bedroom. He didn’t resist, there was no longer any doubt in his eyes. And the more she drank him in, the more she remembered the first time they made love in his small studio apartment in Stockholm. She remembered how each time he thrust into her, his mouth grazed her ear. She remembered his ragged breathing, and the murmured words… This was what she wanted. To remember what it felt like to be with someone who loved her, who’d craved her. Ten years and she still remembered the trail of freckles on his left shoulder, the raised scar on his stomach…and when he pulled her to him again and began undressing her, the wet heat growing inside of her made her weak. His smile told her what she already knew—they were in for a long night.