I was going to stay don’t stop, but in a different circumstance, when the love of your life was walking out the door, you might say don’t leave.
The buzz of a phone brought me back to my senses. I was making stuff up. The phone buzzed again. I didn’t know if it was mine, but I located the source on the kitchen counter, plugged into the wall. Jonathan’s phone, and it was facing up.
The caller: Jess.
Ex-wife.
Fuck.
I threw the rest of the water down my throat and put the glass in the sink. I had to go. I didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever that was.
“Good morning,” he said, sleep all over his face, T-shirt stretched over his perfect body.
“I took the glass from the rack and got water from the little thing in the fridge door. Didn’t even open it.” He shrugged, and I relaxed. He didn’t seem to feel invaded.
“Can I make you coffee?” he asked. “I can scramble eggs if you want.”
“No, I’m okay.”
As I rinsed the glass, he came up behind me and kissed my neck, fingering my zipper. “How about another go?”
“The sun is up,” I teased. I wanted another go. On the counter. On the floor. His lips caressed my earlobe, and I leaned my head back.
He slipped the dress’s zipper down. “You need to beg again. You’re good at it.” He kissed my back. I wanted to. I wanted to cry for it, one more time, before he became a memory. He pushed my dress off my shoulders with a perfect touch that rode between firm and light, a touch on a collarbone, maybe, like the one caught on camera from his wedding day.
“Your phone rang,” I said. Stupid. Another go would have been nice, but it was too late now.
“It’s always ringing.” He reached inside the dress and caressed my breasts, nipples hardening at his touch.
The phone buzzed. His lips left me, and I knew he was looking at it. His hands fell, and a palpable chill filled the room. I cleared my throat.
“I think I need to take this,” he said, zipping me back up.
“Sure,” I whispered. “My shoes are upstairs.”
I walked to the door, and when I looked back, he was popping the cable from the phone. His hands might have been shaking. I couldn’t tell.
I scooped up my shoes from the bedroom floor and went back to the kitchen. He was on the patio, elbows on his knees, looking at the flagstones with the phone pressed to his ear. His hands gestured, but I couldn’t hear him. It wasn’t my business.
“Good-bye, Jonathan,” I said before I slipped out the front door.
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To be continued…
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This series was structured like a serial TV show. Novellas were released every four to six weeks, with a break between sequences. Each novella episode was between 20 and 50 thousand words, and ended with unanswered questions.
Sequence 1
Beg
Tease
Submit
Sequence 2
Control
Burn
Resist
Sequence 3
Sing
Sequence One is also available as a novel-length omni edition.
Supplemental, optional reads—
Jessica/Sharon (to be read after Submit and before Control)
Rachel (to be read after Burn and before Resist)
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