“Like, you’re so like taking me to the carnival, right?” asked Felicia Harmon jokingly, while twisting her wet black hair around her fingertips. Arran chuckled lightly, amused at her portrayal of most blonde females. But it hurt him more than she would ever know, because clearly it was a stab at Theresa. If she figured out he was having an affair, she would kill him literally.
His thoughts of her quickly left his mind as Felicia sat in his lap. She ran her hand over his face and stopped at the eye patch now covering his right eye. “What did the doctor say?” Her tone was sympathetic, almost too much, it frightened Arran. This was the first time during the affair she had truly shown concern for him.
“He said it may be awhile before I see out of this eye again.” He sighed. “I should’ve never went back to work. I should’ve never—”
Felicia moved her hand over his lips to hush him. She didn’t want to hear his regret, because it hurt knowing she couldn’t do anything to help him mentally. Physically, now that’s a different story. She kissed him and pushed herself passionately against him. After wrapping his arms around her, Arran stood up out his chair and lifted her up. She responded quickly to his movement by securing her legs around his waist.
He thrust her body against the nearest wall of the motel room. The impact caused the ceiling material to crumble to floor below. A light moan escaped her lips. It hadn’t even been five minutes since she’d finished showing and here she was dirtying herself again. She didn’t mind it one bit, as long as he didn’t think about work or his wife.
Just the smell of her was driving him crazy, as they continued to kiss. Whatever control he assumed he had over the affair was now gone. Maybe he loved her more than he thought. He could tell she certainly did, as she ran her fingers through his hair. Enough of this shit, he thought to himself. He pulled the towel away from her body, exposing everything.
She could no longer control herself, though she had control of him. They stopped kissing and she freed her legs from his waist. Grabbing his hand, she pressed it against her abs, then slowly guided it downward. She smiled at him.
“I love you,” she whispered. Control? Fuck it! She didn’t want control. She released his hand and let him takeover. Her eyes closed and she waited.
Nothing. He leaned his head over her shoulder and closed his left eye. What the fuck was happening to him? Change is one thing, but he felt this was something more. This was a metamorphosis. A single tear rolled down his cheek and stopped at his chin. From there, it dropped onto Felicia's back. Her body jerked as if it could feel his pain, his rage, and his anger.
She didn’t speak. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she just didn’t know what to say. Did he truly love her or was he just using her? The answer wasn't worth it. Being without his sex would drive her crazy. Her husband couldn’t fuck her right even if he used his dick.
"I’m sorry," he paused. Once again his weakness showed. How many more times would he allow it to best him, especially with her? Instead of following through, he released her hand, and stroked her cheeks with the end of his thumbs. He thought comforting her would make it easier to say, but he could see the water forming in her eyes. The tears slid down her cheeks, so he softly kissed her forehead before gazing into her eyes.
“Do you trust me?” he asked in a whisper. She nodded her head, enjoying the stimulation his thumbs brought to her cheeks. Why couldn’t she stop crying? She tried so hard to hold it back, but this was too much. After two months, it finally was coming to an end.
Before he could say anything more, she pressed her hands against his chest. “You still owe me a trip to the carnival cowboy,” she said with a southern accent.
He smiled and nodded his head. “Of course.” It was the first and last lie he would tell her, because taking her to a Sin event was the last thing he wanted to do. Glen Fischer was his ticket to Swing and he didn't want anyone fucking that up.
“Thank you,” she sniffled, lines of snot now rolling down her nostrils. Arran wiped them away and they stared at each other. A moment of silence passed over them, then finally he took her into his hand. She screamed out in pleasure. This would be the last time he’d ever touch her and that made her weak in the knees. It would all come to an end too soon.
He had set her world ablaze, now she was going to do the same for him.
Nightfall arrived and Arran found himself traveling the backstreet on his Harley. Maybe being with Felicia would change his life for the better. But how could he up and leave Theresa after everything they'd been through? He looked down at his wedding ring and guilt overcame him.
The memories of the life he shared with Theresa played through his mind and ended with his final moments of being with Felicia. A smirk tugged his lips and that’s when he heard the horn. At first, he thought it was all in his head, like a warning for him to stay away from Felicia. But it wasn't. Before he could even look up, he crashed his bike into the oncoming car. His body was thrown against the windshield and then rolled to the ground.
Arran struggled to stand to his feet, but all he could do was drag his body. As his vision began to blur, he noticed the car. He noticed the driver. It was Theresa in his Carrera GT. He knew she knew, because the smile on her face was sadistic. That was the last thing he saw.
Theresa exited the vehicle, happy with the damage done on the Porsche and Arran. A station wagon pulled up beside her. “Somebody get him into the back!” she demanded.
Three women jumped out of the station wagon and all carried him to it. They shoved him into the back with ease, then looked over at Theresa. "I have to get rid of the car and the bike, so proceed as planned."
The three women howled like coyotes and all entered the station wagon. The car pulled off and as soon as it was out of sight, Theresa fell to her knees. She sobbed.
“They were right."