“Are you crazy?!” Sandrine blurted out, when she opened the door and saw Rafe. “You know this is dangerous.”
It was the middle of the morning, she was just starting to sink back into being in New York again. Her son and daughter were at school, and she was thinking how her marriage had been a weird semblance of monogamy for her and Marcus for a long time.
Until Rafe and Eliza.
Marcus has wanted Eliza when she was not available, and she to be honest wanted Rafe whenever she saw him. That it had taken so long for her to fall into Rafe’s arms had been something of a miracle.
But the man who stood in front of her looked like a shadow of the one that she knew. Rate walked past her, and lit a cigarette. Moving like a robot, he sat on the couch in front of the huge flat screen television. Sandrine wondered if he saw his own reflection, because he shook like he had been spooked.
Sandrine knelt before him and placed her cheek on his lap, the smoke from his cigarette making her get up to get her own pack of cigarettes. Lighting her own, she sat back down at his feet.
They were quiet. Smoking. Her own reflection of the flat screen startled her as well.
“You look like shit,” she said. “I mean you sounded like shit on the phone, but you really look like shit. How long has it been now? Have you spoken to her?”
Rafe stood up suddenly, angrily. He picked up Marcus’ hat that had been left on the coffee table.
“I can smell her on his hat, your husband must be very happy now. He can have you, and Eliza…”
Sandrine stood up.
“You know that this mess was because we did not tell them, you know that. We should have said something. But I think you knew that Eliza would not have been happy that you wanted to be with me again. I know that you knew that…”
She saw brief recognition come into his face.
“You were not a dirty secret, don’t make this about you.”
Sandrine pressed her face to his chest.
“What am I supposed to feel like Rafe?” Her accent was heavier now, because she had been in France, and because she was suddenly enraged. “You wanted me, enough to lie to your fiancée and you had me. Now you want my pity because she left you? You need to make up your damn mind!”
“Do not make this about you Sandrine, I can’t deal with that right now!” Rafe said, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her and staring into her eyes.
“Are you going to hit me?” she asked, her eyes rolling from the way he shook her.
“You know I would never hurt you Sandrine…I have to go…”
She watched him walk away from her, but she could not let him go.
Grabbing him from behind, she startled when he turned to look at her. She had never seen him look so destitute as he did. He was a good-looking man, but he looked scrappily attended. Sandrine tugged on his collar, before she kissed his throat and licked the buttons of his shirt.
“Someone needs to take care of you…”
At his feet again, Sandrine licked the buckle of his belt.
“I told Marcus that I did not know what was going to happen between us, I told him I did not know if we would…”
She licked the metal of his belt buckle like it was her job, before she opened it. The taste of Rafe’s flesh replaced the flavor of metal in her mouth. She sucked up all of the warmth of his flesh, her fingers digging into his tense backside. Sandrine knew he was conflicted, but she was not as he came in her mouth and she swallowed his come like an elixir.
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blurry photo taken out of a jack vettriano book by f dot leonora