Edge of Torment by R B O'Brien

Edge of Torment by R B O'Brien

Author:R B O'Brien [O'Brien, R B]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-07T16:00:00+00:00


Of course I was running late when I went to Alamo to pick up my Toyota Camry rental, the cheapest they offered. My phone sex with Michael left me unfocused and questioning my decision to drive out to Northampton to see Scott. I should call Michael back, I thought, just let him know what I was doing.

There was nothing wrong with hanging out with friends. Two of my girlfriends from college would also be there, so it wasn’t like I was only going out there to see Scott. I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t had time to tell Michael, that I would tell him the first chance I got, nonchalantly, casually, like it was no big deal. I really hadn’t had time to tell him, I reminded myself. He did hang up on me after all, after he sexually pleased me via sexting and phone sex. And I couldn’t contain my smile.

The October Saturday was unseasonably warm, high seventies, and I needed to turn on the air conditioner. Of course, it worked like crap, but luckily, I had packed an extra bag of clothes, just in case I needed to freshen up, get rid of the wrinkles in my clothes, or stay the night. It’s not like I planned to stay the night or anything…but…it could happen.

That was the part I didn’t think Michael would understand. I’m not sure I understood it myself, but it was a long drive, I was sure I’d be imbibing a bit, and I knew for an absolute certainty that nothing would happen between Scott and me, no matter what. I was so addicted, madly attached to Michael. It was laughable to even entertain a thought of being with someone else. It almost felt like that person, that person who had lived her life for twenty-seven years before meeting Michael wasn’t even real, wasn’t me. I couldn’t imagine my life without Michael. I didn’t want to.

I put my hippie sunglasses on, threw in a CD compilation I had put together--this virtual jalopy had no Sirius, and FM stations changed the farther west I got-- and tried to relax, be the normal person I once was before I met Michael. I rolled down the windows, belting out some Bruno Mars, garnering looks from passing cars as my hair blew around my face. I was happy. A toe-curling orgasm after a denial period will do that to a girl.

When I arrived in Northampton, I texted Scott to let him know, and he directed me to his apartment so I could freshen up and change. He opened the door, guitar strapped on his back, and for a second, I wondered how I could have given up this luscious man. Without any pretense or awkwardness, he scooped me up into a bear hug. I almost couldn’t breathe. When he let me go, I looked up into his brown eyes, and I noticed they seemed troubled. “You look absolutely beautiful. Holy shit. Life treating you good?” He smiled.

I felt guilty.



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