"Uhhgg,"Igroaninfrustration, thrusting fast between Veronica's legs and ignoring her moaning because it's hindering me getting off.
I move slightly to grip the bend of her knee and wrap her leg around my hip, circling hard, trying to chase my orgasm. But it's just not happening tonight.
My skin crawls at the feel of her fingernails scraping down my back, and I force myself to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything offensive, preferring to remain silent yet hating that I have to. I shouldn't have to force anything…especiallythis.
Gently pulling her arm away, I hold her wrist down on the white sheets of our hotel bed, detesting her touching me. Detesting even more that I broke and slept with her knowing I didn’t truly want to. I’d just been so lonely. And she’d been blatant and forward in her advances towards me, wondering why after weeks of dating I hadn’t initiated sex with her.
Sneaking a look at the digital clock on the nightstand, I see that I've been screwing her for the last half hour. That in itself heightens my irritation, because the fact I'm just mindlessly thrusting into her and nothing's happening…well...it's a shame, really. What's even worse is it validates my thoughts that I might be broken after all.
To my horror I slow my pace when I feel my face begin to break like my heart feels…like it's cracking to pieces.
Iambroken.
Grinding my teeth together, I wrestle my features into something Ihoperesembles an expression that won't be offensive and pull back from the crook of her neck. Straightening my arm, I rake my eyes over her body and try to latch on to something—anything—that will speed up the process to finish me off. But there's nothing. Disappointed, my lip curls back in annoyance, and I take a deep breath of her perfume that somehow makes it even worse.
I hate that I feel like this.
Truly ready to go, I sneak another glance at the clock. Distracted, my eyes go past it, perusing the lush hotel room I’d bought for tonight. I hadn't been comfortable with taking Veronica to my house as we've only been dating about four weeks, which is five weeks too long in my opinion. I bury my face back into the crook of her neck, continuing to try and ignore the irritating smell of her perfume.
I thrust faster, and minutes tick by where it's no use because I'm broken.
Defective.
My orgasm is holding back, my lungs burn, and my back aches with the effort to not take her the way I want to just get it over with. But I need to be gentle. I'm a big man and will hurt her if I pound into her the way I really need to. I slow my pace a little, feeling my cock deflate slightly, finally accepting that it's just not happening. She doesn’t smell right, sound right,feelright. I can't do this. I won't.
“Doctor Richardson,”Veronica moans, running her hands down my back.
I grimace as she grips my ass hard, digging her sharp nails in. She may as well have dumped a bucket of spiders on top of me because I shrink from her touch, and my skin crawls even more than it already is.
Deciding I'm done with this, I grit my teeth and groan, acting like I orgasmed just like she was acting like she liked the sex we're having. Because she doesn't. She's faking right now, and her antics are worthy of a porn star. What's even worse is there’d been no genuineness in her motions with me tonight, which I believe truly hampered my ability to be all in this with her.
My demons whisper awful thoughts in my head, taunting me with the trauma of my past marriage with my ex-wife, Hannah. And my heart goes cold when I look into Vanessa's eyes.
I don't know if she was trying to make me fall in love with her by using her body and securing a physical bond or if she was just truly curious about what being in bed with me would be like, but I hate myself for folding and giving in just to appease this Godforsaken emptiness inside myself, knowing caving was just a temporary fix. Like slapping a band aid on a wound that really needs attention from the inside out.
It never works.
I observed that every move she’d made so far was disingenuous, so I can't get into the sex. I feel like I'm just using her at this point, and it doesn't make for a good time. At all. Over the last few weeks I've suspected that she's only in this with me so she could say she was with a world-renowned psychiatrist. For my money and status.
Absolved in the realization that tonight just isn't my night, I go completely still and pull out of her slowly, mindful of my big size. She throws me a confused look as I sit on the edge of the bed.
"Hey, what happened?" she says quietly, reaching for me. I stiffen, ignoring her fingers grasping at my arm.
I clear my throat uncomfortably. "Nothing."
Her brows pinch. "But then why…" Her words trail off when I turn to look at her. She recoils a bit, and I know it's because of my eyes. I can't help my icy cold stare. I work quickly to take the condom off, tying it, and stand to place it in the pocket of the pants I'd slung over the chair next to the bed. I'm not taking any chances. What would I look like at forty-three starting over with a baby with another woman who is so similar to my ridiculous ex-wife that they could be sisters?
I clear my throat uncomfortably. “I have to go,” I lie.
But it's not a lie, either.
My eyes land on the clock again anxiously, seeing it's almost nine at night. If I leave now, I can work for at least a couple hours before I have to go to bed.
“Are youserious?” Veronica asks, her brown eyebrows hit her hairline as shock and disbelief color her tone. She pulls the sheet up to her breasts, leaning forward towards me. Her blood-red nails catch my eye, gleaming starkly against the white sheets of the hotel bed. I turn my gaze back to her, my eyes wandering over her wavy hair. A thick lock falls forward over her shoulder hanging against the curve in her breast.
For a second I hate myself. Veronica's extraordinarily attractive, and I wish desperately that I could feel something for her.
I get that I'm probably jaded on some level, but I'm just sooverinauthentic women and their games. This one proves no different, unfortunately. My nose crinkles again. However, I note with some relief that it's not just her perfume that bothers me; Veronica smellsdesperate. And that's a scent I've grown to detest ever since I smelled it on my ex-wife Hannah.
