My Stranger

He was startled by my initiating it, even more astonished by my brazenness. I didn't let him get two feet from the door before I had stripped him of his clothes and taken his shaft in my mouth, desperately coaxing it to life.

"Jesus, Anna," he moaned. "What -"

"Shut up and fuck me," I growled, whipping off my shirt and propping myself up on the couch. I looked back at him and flipped up my skirt to show him I had no underwear on. "Now," I ordered. "Take me now, dammit!"

He looked confused and almost frightened, but he was behind me in a second, squeezing my behind and sliding his length along my slit. He leaned over my back, caressing my breasts and kissing my neck.

"Please," I gasped, rocking against him. "Don't tease me - please."

He entered me slowly, almost tenderly, running his hands over my body. I bucked my hips back to meet him, thrusting against him urgently.

"Grab my skirt," I whimpered. "Grab it like a handle and fuck me!"

"Anna," he whispered, cupping my breasts.

I groaned in frustration, trying to steady myself.

"Baby, do whatever you want," I begged. "You can do whatever you want to me - I'm yours. What do you want to do to me? Spank me? Tie me up?"

"Anna -"

His voice was so serious, so shocked, that I buried my face in my hands in embarrassment. He withdrew and scooped me up in one movement, sitting on the couch, settling my legs on either side of his thighs. He gripped my waist and lowered me onto his length, kissing me deeply.

"Anna, what's this all about?" he asked softly, combing his fingers through my hair.

"I just - I was horny," I said in a small voice, avoiding his eyes.

"Okay," he said, letting out a small chuckle.

I glanced at him, somewhat calmed by his amusement. I shrugged and nestled my face in his neck.

"Talk to me," he said quietly, rolling my hips in a circle until we both moaned at the sensation.

"I - I just thought - we could try something new," I said in a gasp. "Don't you have any fantasies?"

"I guess," he said carefully. "But, what brought this on now?"

Had he not been inside me, it might have been the perfect opening to confess what happened with my stranger. But who am I kidding? I still would have chickened out.

"Well, I was horny," I repeated lamely. I let out a long, shaky breath and met his eyes. "I just wanted you to - to do whatever you wanted... that's all."

"Sweetheart," he murmured, brushing my hair off my forehead. "I just want to love you."

What woman wouldn't melt at that? What kind of woman wouldn't go weak in the knees at those words from the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with? The kind of woman who lets strangers kiss her and proposition her and then thinks about them nonstop, that's who. The kind of woman who doesn't deserve a man like Aaron. Me, evidently.

Disgusted with myself, I tried to stamp down my mania. Tried to remind myself that this was what I had always wanted from a partner: love, respect, caring. I didn't know how to explain how I needed him to love me when I couldn't understand it myself. The tender, romantic coupling that was our norm - gazes locked, fingers laced, mouths exploring - was incredibly fulfilling. I craved that connection. That I had been on the verge of begging him to pull my hair and spank my ass, that I was aching to be told I was so hot he had to have me, was going to fuck me, hard... It wasn't me, us. Or was it?

Looking into his eyes and seeing his tender, loving expression, the rushing train of arousal slowed to a halt. A depressing stop in which I could almost hear the sigh and hiss of the engine's brakes, could almost feel the steam surrounding me in a fog of confusion. I managed a smile, instructed my fingers to tangle in Aaron's hair, told my lips to meet his in a sweet kiss. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding on while he gently made love to me.

-

"You look like hell - are you okay?"

I smiled faintly at Sabrina. Her job had brought her to town for the day and she'd surprised me by asking to meet for lunch.

"Just tired, I haven't been sleeping well," I said. "So, what's the occasion? You don't normally have time for lunch when you're here just for the day," I added, trying to change the subject.

"We haven't talked in a while," she said, shrugging. "I was getting worried that you were avoiding me."

"I'm sorry," I said guiltily. "I've just been... out of sorts. But it's nothing to do with you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now... It's really nothing, anyway," I assured her. "What's going on at work?"

I forced myself to concentrate on her work anecdotes, nodding and laughing when appropriate. Since I had time after we ate, we decided to stop by a boutique and browse. Catching a glimpse of my reflection in one of the mirrors made me stop short. I knew I'd been looking kind of peaked lately, but I hadn't realized how gaunt I appeared. Not only had I not been sleeping well, I hadn't been eating very much the past several weeks. My eyes were strained and anxious with dark circles under them, my cheeks hollowed slightly. Lifting a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear revealed my trembling fingers.

Unable to stand the sight of myself, I found Sabrina and said my goodbyes, making an excuse so I could leave. I headed into the bookstore next door to get a cup of tea from the cafe, and wandered the shelves as I sipped my drink, trying to settle my nerves before going back to work. Trying to do anything but think.

"Missed me, Anna?"

Hot tea splattered on my arm when I jumped at the sound of his voice. I whipped my head around, but I was alone. I am losing my fucking mind.

"Have you thought about us? About what I asked you?"

I gasped, looking around frantically. A book was pulled from the shelf facing me, allowing a small portion of the aisle on the opposite side to be seen through the stacks. The dark blue sleeve of a dress shirt was all I could see.

"Who are you?" I whispered shakily.

A low chuckle sounded through the books. My skin tingled at the sound.

"You haven't answered my question."

His voice was both casual and seductive. My eyes drifted shut as my pulse quickened. God.

"If you really do know me - and I don't believe you do - you know I can't," I snapped, suddenly angry.

"I do know you. That's how I know you can. It's how I know you want to," came the smooth reply.

I stared at the books, flabbergasted.

"I'll see you soon."

A flash of blue shirt, then the book was replaced on the shelf, blocking my view. I froze for only a moment but by the time I darted into the next aisle, it was empty. A few quick steps to the end of the shelves brought me within sight of the entrance, but there was no one there. My hands were still shaking and I put my cup down, pressing my hands to my flushed cheeks. My whole body was warm.

Fuck. How is he doing this to me? What is wrong with me?

-

A few days later I came home to find Aaron packing.

"I thought you were leaving tomorrow," I said.

"Mom called on my way home," he told me, giving me a hug. "Dad's on a new medication that she has to give him every few hours. She's wiped out from getting up so many times in the middle of the night and asked if I could come a day early."

I ran a finger across the worry line on his brow sadly.

"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked.

He smiled gratefully. "That's okay - we'll be there for Thanksgiving. Besides, I doubt Dad would want you to see him like this."

"But, I can help," I protested. "You guys shouldn't have to do it all by yourselves."

He wrapped his arms around me again, nestling his face in my hair.

"God, I love you," he murmured. "I appreciate it, really, but it's okay. Jacob's coming home, too, so I'll probably be able to come back earlier," He straightened up and kissed me.

"Okay," I said hesitantly. "If you change your mind, I'll drive up - all you need to do is ask."

"I know," he kissed the tip of my nose.

-

It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do, though I wasn't proud of the sleeping pills I needed in order to make it happen. Still, I felt mostly relaxed and peaceful for the next few days. Sabrina visited for the weekend and kept me busy while Aaron was out of town, spending the evenings playing pool at our favorite neighborhood pub with our friends. We were embarrassingly bad at it, but it provided a good opportunity for her to flirt with guys by asking for their help.

She was leaning over the table to make a shot, her behind against the crotch of the guy guiding her, and looked up at me with a wink. Her tutor had an expression of ecstatic disbelief on his face. I caught the eye of our friend Allie, who had covered her mouth to conceal her grin, and I had to walk away to hide my laughter. Deciding to get us another pitcher, I was resting against the bar, fiddling with a straw, when his body pressed against my back. For a second I didn't think anything of it, but as soon as his lips tickled my ear, I knew it was him.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my body instantly responding. Dammit.

"I want you, Anna," he went on, his lips grazing my neck.

"I can't," I whispered. "Please."

His chest rumbled with the low growl. "Mm, I like to hear you say please."

He ran a finger down my back in the faintest of touches and my thighs quivered.

"Meet me out back," he said softly.

"No -" I began, but the lack of warmth around me told me he was already gone.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. The pitcher of beer appeared in front of me and I slid some cash across the smooth surface of the bar, not looking at the bartender, not wanting anyone to see my confused arousal. I stared at the pitcher as if I didn't recognize it. Pick it up, I told myself. Go back to your friends. Pick it up and go back to your friends.

My frustration turned into anger. How dare he do this to me. How dare he. Leaving the pitcher where it was, I charged toward the back door of the bar. He can't hide from me now. In the alley I'd be able to see who he was and give him a piece of my mind.

I burst out the door with such force that it slammed against the wall before slowly closing. The alley was dark and empty. I actually felt disappointed. Telling myself it was because I missed the chance to yell at him, but deep down unsure that was the truth, I morosely turned back to the door. Fuck him, then.

Suddenly I was pinned against the wall next to the door. My breasts smashed against the bricks, my nipples hardening through my thin shirt. In one motion, he swept my hair over my shoulder and his teeth were on my neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. I whimpered and struggled even as a flood of moisture began flowing between my legs. He kept me immobile with his body, with that hard chest, with the hot steel in his pants, his hands free to roam my stomach and chest, my waist and ass, before gripping and stroking my legs.

Everything was sluggish as if a slow motion button had been triggered. There was a faint ringing sound in my ears and a blurring around the edges of my vision, making everything seem surreal. My hands were flattened on the wall, fingers splayed, trying to gain purchase on the surface. My eyes studied the varying shades of red interspersed with grey mortar. I watched one of my fingers leisurely trace a crack in one of the bricks. Heard him breathe heavily against my neck, felt his fiery lips trailing a path of nips and bites up to my ear, his knee wedging between my thighs, his fingers deftly pulling up my skirt. I took in every detail of how it looked, how he sounded, how he felt - all as if it were happening to someone else.

The crotch of my panties was pushed aside and I returned to myself, tensing in shock.

"No -" I gasped.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked gruffly, his hands stilling.

"I - I -" I stammered, unable to take a full breath.

"You just have to tell me to stop," he ordered.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered plaintively.

"It's what you want," he said.

I rested my forehead against the wall, tears forming in my eyes.

"It's what you want," he repeated. "Say it."

I took a shuddering breath and raised my head.

"Fuck. You," I said clearly, staring at the wall.

He chuckled and I felt the tip of him at my entrance. I bit my lip to stifle my cry of anticipation.

"I'd like you to," he said in his arrogant, husky voice. "But you say the word and I'll leave now."

He nuzzled the nape of my neck and I shivered. Then I felt his tongue against my earlobe and he placed a soft, sweet kiss just under my ear. The incongruity of that tender kiss shattered the last of my resolve and I arched into him, unable to stop the moan.

Burying his face in my hair, he groaned, a long, low groan that I felt to my toes. He was inside me in one movement, filling me completely. I shrieked and his hand clamped over my mouth.

"Quiet," he hissed, sounding both shocked and angry.

He began thrusting, locking an arm around my waist when my knees buckled. I could feel myself clutching around him, losing myself in the sensation. He moved slowly but powerfully, introducing me to his cock with each steady motion. And I responded, dammit. Hating myself and needing more, I rocked back against him, trying to take him deeper.

Shit. The tears spilled over my cheeks even as I cried out in ecstasy against his hand.

It felt so good. So good and right. Right and wrong at the same time. Nothing had felt this good since the early days with Aaron, when he seemed to want me so much it was all we could do to make it through work before we could see each other and rip our clothes off. When we wouldn't leave the house for days, canceling plans with friends, barely taking time to eat, so consumed in our passion for each other. But this... This was my stranger. It was almost irrelevant how good it felt. That it could be so familiar and so foreign at the same time was making my head foggy with confusion.

Even as my body responded, sadness washed over me. I would never have that again. I had effectively ruined it, forever. For this. For one horribly rapturous moment, I had thrown aside everything I had, betrayed the man I loved.

My body went limp, my tears disappeared. As if he could feel my despair, my stranger pulled out and took a step back. Our only contact was his hands covering mine on the wall, but I could feel his chest heaving with exertion, could hear his ragged breathing. I could have turned; he wasn't restraining me any longer. Could have seen the face of my stranger, finally put a face to the voice that had been haunting me. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered.

His head dropped to my neck and he let out a sigh that made his body shudder against mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in a gasp, almost sounding like a sob.

He ran his hands down my back, smoothing my skirt down around my legs, and was gone.

-

I slid down the wall, hugging myself. I couldn't go back inside, not with my tear-streaked face, rumpled clothes, and messy, just-been-fucked hair. So I just sat there, wondering what he had apologized for. Wondering if I could sit there long enough to forget. Thinking I should just start walking, down the street, to the edge of town. Keep walking until I got far enough away. Nothing of my life here would be the same now, anyway.

I don't know how long I sat there, but eventually the chirp of my phone broke through and I dug it out of my pocket, expecting it to be Sabrina.

The Hilton on 3rd. Room 309.

The phone slipped from my hands onto my lap. I pressed my fingers to my eyes. He had my number. I must really know him. Who? Who would do this? It didn't matter; I was the one who had done it, really. I stared intently at the text message as if it could tell me what to do.

Finally I stood, numbly brushing the dirt from my clothes, looking up and down the alley. In one direction lay my house, the home I had been building with Aaron. What had been the sanctuary of our relationship. The place that would never be the same, but maybe, possibly could still be mine. In the other direction, the hotel. And him.

I closed my eyes and gave my feet permission to move, letting them make the decision for me.

-

The flickering of a bulb gave the impression of a strobe light, the pulse of each flash underscoring the step of my feet. Approaching the door, I saw the flip latch sticking out from inside the room, presumably so I wouldn't have to knock. This inexplicably raised my hackles. Was he so sure I would come? The irritation passed quickly. I had, after all.

Noting with amazement the steadiness of my hand, I pushed in the door and closed it behind me. I had time to take in the huge, four-poster bed monopolizing the room before his arms wrapped around me from behind, his firm chest smashed against my back.

"You came."

He sounded surprised and relieved, scared and overwhelmed. His tone made me melt against him. His arms locked around my waist, his lips just below my ear, nuzzling my neck. I automatically pressed my behind into his crotch, moaning softly. My response seemed to spark something in him. I could tell by the way his arms tensed around me, by the sharp intake of breath, by the way his erection seemed to grow and expand, hard as steel against me as if there weren't layers of clothes between us.

Covering my eyes with his hand, he propelled me forward until my knees knocked against the bed. He shoved me down, holding my face against the mattress for what felt like several minutes. I groaned quietly into the comforter, imagining what he was doing behind me. If he was just staring at my body, prone and vulnerable. If he was teasing me, if he knew that being held down like this was making my thighs tremble and my entire body ache with longing.

A strip of cool fabric slipped over my eyes and I felt him knotting it on the back of my head, his fingers stroking my hair as he did so. He turned my head and tugged at the knot, presumably to make sure it was taut across my eyes. He gripped my shoulders.

"Stand up," he said roughly, pulling me to my feet. "Don't move."

I swayed on my feet, feeling light-headed without anything to grab on to. Hearing the rustle of the bedding, the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle being released, the whoosh of a shirt being whipped off. My chest began heaving as my breathing quickened. My hands twitched at my sides, wanting to remove the blindfold. Being stripped of sight was disorienting. It occurred to me that I should concentrate on my other senses, maybe search for a familiar scent or something recognizable in his voice... something. But I was too overwhelmed to focus. Besides, I obviously wanted this - needed this. And if I never discovered my stranger's identity, maybe I could fool myself into believing that this never happened, that I wasn't a horrible person.

He moved silently but I could tell the instant he stepped in front of me. I could sense his strong chest, feel his body heat, could almost hear the blood coursing through his veins. His fingers were on the buttons of my blouse, undoing each one methodically, almost gently. He shoved the top off over my shoulders, running his hands along my arms. Fumbling around the waistband of my skirt, he found the zipper and released it so it tumbled around my feet. I could tell he took a step back, holding my arms out by the wrists, an approving low-pitched growl sounding from his throat. Unhooking my bra with a simple flick, he dragged it off before hooking his fingers in my panties and pulling them down in a single fluid motion. They soon joined my skirt on the floor and he knelt, gliding his hands over my legs to my feet to remove first one shoe and then the other. He lifted me easily by the waist, holding me up and taking one of my breasts in his mouth for a teasing bite before bouncing me onto the bed.