Deviants

Chapter 13

Clint

We arrive at the restaurant around seven, Gracie dressed in a gorgeous blue dress that she almost never wears. I remove her black dress coat for her before setting it on the end of her chair and pulling it out for her.

"Thank you," she whispers. I can't help but study her as she examines the menu. We both order a glass of wine and then our dinner before I grab her hand and have her look into my eyes.

"We haven't done this for a while," I say. She gives me a shy smile.

"No, we haven't," she agrees.

"Do you feel like I've been taking you for granted?" I ask her. She sighs and looks down at her plate.

"Of course not, Clint," she says, looking back at me. I can tell she's lying. She feels like I don't love her anymore and I've been pushing her towards that fifty-year-old piece of shit.

"Don't tell me what you think I'll want to hear," I say. She opens her mouth to speak but our food arrives, and she lets go of my hand. We eat mostly in silence, Gracie comments on a few different things. This past week she'd open her mouth often and it was always to talk about Dean Curtis but tonight she spends most of the time avoiding my eye.

When we are finished, the drive back to her apartment is just as quiet. By the time we get there it's only eight-thirty. We take off our coats and I watch her slip her heels off and take out pins from her blonde hair, so it falls in curls around her back.

"Are you sleeping with him?" I blurt out, not knowing that I was going to say that. She turns to me, surprised.

"Clint..." She whispers. She steps towards me, her head not even reaching my shoulders. She reaches up and touches my cheek with an ice-cold hand. I place my hand on top of hers and press my lips to it. "I love you," she says. We freeze, she stares into my eyes as if she expects me to say it back and it'll take the thought of Dean Curtis from my mind, but my throat's gone dry. She pulls my face down to hers and presses her lips to mine. I find it hard to kiss her at first, but then her tongue slips past my lips. I take in her scent, which always tasted the same- like saltwater. Before I liked it. It always turned me on but now there's something wrong. It still tastes like saltwater but it's not exciting me.

I push my fingers through her hair and place my hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer to me. What would I do if she was sleeping with him? What would I do if she wasn't?

I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her so she can wrap her legs around my waist. Is my problem because of Dean Curtis or something else?

As I walk down to the bedroom, I graze her smooth thigh. I lay her on the bed and softly kiss her neck, grip her thigh and run my other hand down her side. I look at her to see her eyes closed while she squirms underneath me. I watch her bite her lip and feel her hand run through my hair.

Something else?