Chapter 2: The Morning After
He slid out of her with a soft, wet sound, and she quivered, a full-body tremor that left her thighs shaking. He’s so big, was all she could think, the words echoing in the hollowed-out space of her mind. Her internal muscles clenched around nothing, aching with a delicious, stretched emptiness.
Levi steadied her with hands on her hips, his breath still ragged against her damp neck. “Okay?” he murmured.
She managed a nod, her forehead resting against his collarbone. Her legs felt like wet paper. He helped her down from the counter, her bare feet meeting the cool, slick tile. She wobbled, and he caught her, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. “Easy.”
The shower was still running, steam billowing out to wrap around them. He guided her in, the hot water a shock that quickly turned into a blessing, sluicing away the sweat and the sticky evidence of what they’d done. He reached for a bottle of hotel shampoo, pouring a generous amount into his palms.
“Turn around,” he said, his voice soft.
She complied, facing the wall, her hands pressed against the ivory tiles. His hands began to work the lather into her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with a surprising, tender expertise. She let out a soft moan, her eyes closing. The intimacy of it, the casual domesticity after the frantic coupling, was somehow more disarming.
“You have great hands,” she mumbled into the spray.
“For a teacher?” he teased, his thumbs working circles at the base of her skull.
“For anything.”
He rinsed her hair carefully, then soaped up a washcloth and dragged it slowly down her back, over the curve of her ass, down each thigh. It was meticulous, worshipful. He turned her to face him, washing her shoulders, her collarbones, the swell of her breasts. His touch was clinical for a moment, then his thumb brushed over her nipple and it puckered instantly under his gaze. He smiled, a flash of white in the steamy enclosure.
She giggled, swatting at his arm. “Tickles.”
He just grinned, dropping the cloth to cup her ass with both hands, pulling her close. The water cascaded over them, and she felt him, pressed between their bodies. Softening, but still substantial. Then, as he held her, she felt the unmistakable shift—the thickening, the hardening against her belly once more.
She gasped, her eyes widening. “Oh my God. Again? Already?”
“What can I say?” He shrugged, the picture of false innocence ruined by the hungry look in his blue eyes. “You’re inspirational.”
Her hand slipped between them, wrapping around his renewed erection. He was already rock-hard, the flesh hot and silky under her fingers. She stroked him slowly, watching his lips part. “This is insane,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
He bent, his mouth finding hers in a deep, water-tinged kiss. His hands slid down to her thighs, gripping, and he started to lift her, clearly intending to impale her on him right there against the shower wall.
A sharp, sore twinge between her legs made her wince. She broke the kiss, putting a hand on his chest. “Wait. Levi, wait. I need… a minute. A break.” She gave him a playful, apologetic smile. “You wrecked me.”
He eased her down, his expression understanding but painted with frustration. “Okay. Sure.”
Without another word, she sank to her knees on the textured shower floor. The water beat down on her back as she looked up at him, his magnificent body outlined in the steam, his giant cock standing thick and proud at her eye level. She felt a thrilling jolt of submission, of pure, slutty audacity. This was a line Marcus had never wanted to cross.
“Let me try this,” she said, her voice husky.
She took him into her mouth, and it was a struggle from the first second. She couldn’t hope to take all of him. She used her hands, working the base as her lips and tongue focused on the head, swirling, sucking, tasting the clean, salty skin. She bobbed her head, establishing a rhythm, her other hand cupping his heavy balls.
“Jesus, Jynx,” he groaned, his hands coming to rest on her head, not forcing, just holding.
His hips gave a small, involuntary jerk. Then another. The pressure on the back of her head increased, just slightly, guiding her. He was fucking her mouth now, shallow, careful thrusts that pushed him deeper into her throat than she could handle. She gagged, tears mingling with the shower spray on her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. A dark, shocking thrill shot through her. She liked it. She liked the helplessness, the sluttiness of him using her face like this, the complete surrender to his size and his want.
She looked up at him through wet lashes, letting him see the tears, the mess, the willing submission. His jaw was clenched, his abdomen taut with strain. The sight of him unraveling because of her mouth, her willingness, sent a fresh pulse of wet heat between her own legs.
“Gonna come,” he warned, his voice strangled.
She doubled her efforts, her hand stroking in time with his thrusts. With a sharp, guttural cry, he came, his body bowing over her. She took what she could, swallowing, the rest washing away in the relentless downpour.
She stayed on her knees, catching her breath, the water beginning to cool. He finally looked down at her, his expression dazed, satiated. He reached down, helping her up. They stood there for a long minute, just breathing under the spray, the reality of the hour, the day, the world outside the glass door seeping back in.
“We have to get forty kids to the Lincoln Memorial in an hour,” she said quietly, the absurdity of it all hitting her.
He laughed, a real, bright sound that bounced off the tiles. He kissed her forehead. “Then we’d better get moving, Ms. Solis.”
They dressed in a strange, silent harmony, avoiding each other’s eyes, the playful banter gone. Jynx pulled on her teacher clothes—smart slacks, a blouse, a blazer—feeling like she was armoring up. She applied her makeup, covering the faint flush that seemed permanently etched into her skin. Levi stood by the window, tapping on his phone, already looking the part of the crisp, young government teacher.
When they met the students in the lobby, it was all business. Levi was all easy smiles and corny jokes about the Founding Fathers. Jynx checked her clipboard, her voice steady as she called roll. She caught his eye once across the bustling group. He gave her a small, private wink, the same one from her classroom doorway. This time, it felt like a brand.
On the bus, as the monuments rolled by, the guilt arrived. It came not as a wave, but as a slow, cold seep, like groundwater rising. It filled the hollow spaces his body had occupied. She saw Marcus’s face—not angry, but confused, hurt—the way he’d looked when he said, You used to come home talking about me. She fiddled with her wedding ring, turning it round and round on her finger.
She was a woman who had just let another man fuck her mouth in a hotel shower. She had loved the sluttiness of it. And in a few hours, she would have to go home, walk back into her kitchen with its scent of cinnamon, and look at her husband. The crossword puzzle would still be there, waiting. And she would have to decide which version of herself—the devoted wife, or the woman who quivered on a bathroom counter—was the real one.