The Muse's Undoing

“You didn’t mean this.”

“I do now.”

“Wait, really?”

I reach up, finding a handful of his hair to give it a tug. Turning enough that I’m able to see his face, I kiss his cheek. “It’s been awhile since I felt like I was good for something.”

“You have no idea how good,” he says, causing a flush to heat my face. “That was beyond hot.”

“Good,” I say, feeling smaller in his arms today. I appreciate the praise more than I care to admit.

I try to shift again. I want to see him better, kiss him more, then realize that he is however—still in my ass. “Do you mind?”

“Oh. Right.” He uses his hand to slowly remove himself.

I wince, waiting an uncomfortably long moment to let my body clamp back into place. I feel raw. Used. Whole. Finally, I gather the energy to turn over, and he helps, planting his lips on mine before I even have a chance to make the move. And I fucking whimper again.

28

MATTHEW

Iflop onto my back when the bathroom door closes behind Fischer. Tying off the full condom, I toss it aside, hoping I remember to deal with it later, but my head’s a fucking mess.

That was extreme even for me. Not the fingering when he was asleep part, though I mean—that too—but all of it. His spine is covered in a nearly straight line of hickeys. I fucked him until three a.m. I used him like a toy, and he let me. He lay there and took it—and took it…and took it.

I swallow hard, my stomach clenching at the fresh memory. He was everything I wanted. Everything I needed.

I get we’re all, as humans, broken in some way. Everyone’s fucked up by something. The thing is, I don’t know if he’s always—would I call that submissive? Or if the way he let me play with him was unique to our own twisted, possibly codependent dynamic.

No. Submissive doesn’t fit. It felt more like he was containing me. Holding my attention fast and embodying temptation.

I rub at my face because the dots aren’t quite connecting, and our future still hangs in the balance.

I check my phone and find a text from Maggie, which says she emailed the best photos of the tree. Interested in seeing them, I pull on some sweats and wander over to the couch where I use the coffee table as a desk most of the time. I open my laptop.

Damn, my sister takes good pictures. She’d been right about the time of day. All the colored glass is super saturated, and the clear pieces practically glitter. I text her.

These are perfect.

Maggie

You’re awake?

Yeah. I have today off.

Maggie

Plans?

I can’t think past the man in my shower, so my reply is vague.

Playing it by ear.

Maggie

Thanks for your help yesterday. Did you have fun with Fish? You two were acting like you hadn’t seen each other in years.

Not sure how to respond to that.