Chapter - 2
The rich, sweet smell of the coffee filled the kitchen, but the woman's hands were still trembling. While she tried to work, her mind kept replaying what had happened upstairs, and Ethan's strong arm around her. Thinking about how he wrapped his arms around her, she could not help but rub her thighs against each other.
'Why am I still so wet? Shit!' She leaned against the counter and took a few deep breaths, "Get it together, woman," she muttered to herself.
But she could not forget the warmth of his body. The strength in his arms, and the shocking, undeniable wetness between her legs.
'What is happening to me? THis is not like me,' She felt disgusted with herself. But… But… a part of her craved for it again.
'This is all Richard's fault,' She tried to rationalize it. She tried to blame it all on her husband's cold indifference, 'Yes, it was all his fault. It has to be.'
On the other hand, the culprit behind all of this, Richard, was sitting at the dining table, hidden behind the wall of a financial newspaper. He did not even know that his wife was feeling wet down there because of another man's touch. And it was all because of him.
He didn't even look up from his newspapers to greet his wife when she had come downstairs after being in the arms of someone else in the morning itself.
He was like a statue carved from ambition and apathy. He was like a man who inhabited the same house as hers, but they lived in totally different worlds entirely.
When the woman walked past the table, lost in the storm of her own thoughts, he called out for her without tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.
"Clara! Is he up yet?" Richard asked, his face hidden by the paper. He didn't bother to look at her.
But the woman, Clara, didn't hear him. She continued to walk forward thinking about Ethan and his warm breath against her skin.
"Clara!" Richard's voice was sharper, and filled with impatience as he called out to her again. He hated being ignored.
He finally lowered the paper, his brow furrowed in irritation as he looked at her, "I asked you a question."
"It's nothing," Clara snapped out of her thoughts and replied in a f;at tone, "Ethan had another one of those nightmares."
Richard sighed, a long, weary sound of annoyance, "Don't worry. He's a tough kid. He will get through it eventually," he said, his eyes already drifting back to the newspaper headlines.
"That's what a man does," With his eyes scanning the newspaper, he continued, "You bottle it up and you move on."
"But it is not normal, Richard," She pressed, trying to make him see what she saw, "He looked like he was in pain."
"He must be. But you coddling him isn't going to help," Richard said dismissively. "He needs to stand on his own two feet, and face it on his own."
Listening to him sprout those words, something inside Clara snapped, she wanted to argue with him, but before she could say anything, Richard spoke up.
"You didn't get me my coffee, honey," Richard said, "Can I get it before I finish this breakfast?"
And now back to the present. The coffee was all mode, and Clara had also calmed down a bit. Well her anger was gone, but she still felt those butterflies in her chest.
In fact, the months of pent-up desires, a need to feel full again inside of her, and the longing to be held by a man had fueled something else inside of her.
So with the coffee in her hand, she slowly walked out of the kitchen and walked towards Richard. Her movements were deliberate and seductive. When she reached him, she put the coffee cup on the table and placed a hand over his chest, tracing it gently from his chest to his shoulder.
She leaned in slightly to have him smell her sweet body scent and whispered in a low husky voice, "Richard, why don't you forget about work this morning."
"In a while Ethan will be gone for a few fours and we will be all alone…"
"It has been so long since we…"
As she tried to hint it to Richard, her hand began to gently rub his shoulder and then trail downstairs. Her hand moved along his shirt, and towards the buckle of his belt.
But in contrast to Clara's burning desires, Richard's reaction was swift and clinical.
He didn't outrightly push her away, but he was quick to catch her wrist. His grip was firm, stopping her hand from progressing any further.
"Honey, not today," Richard said with a smile, his voice was perfectly stable, "You know my work. I can't afford to miss a day. I can't afford any distractions."
"And if we were to… It will be an inconvenience."
"How about we talk about this in the evening?"
And with that, Richard let her hand go.
But his rejection was absolute, and straightforward.
If he had just said that he had a headache, or he wasn't in the mood, she wouldn't have felt that bad and would not have persisted. But this?
His rejection coupled with his indifference to Ethan's pain finally made Clara's heart erupt. From feeling wet down in her pussy, she was now burning with pure rage and hatred.
She pulled her hand back away from his chest with a jerk as if he was some filthy scum. Her eyes which help tender love and hope a moment ago now blazed with murderous fire.
"Inconvenience?" Clara hissed, her voice dripping with venom, "That's all I am to you now? An Inconvenience?"
"Now, Clara, don't be so dramatic," he said while pulling up his paper again, dismissing her, "You know what I meant."
"Dramatic?" she threw her arms in the air, "Hell with dramatic!"
"You and your damn work! Stuff your work up your ass, Richard!"
"Now I will show you something that's dramatic!"
And saying so, she spun on her heel in a swift motion and stormed back into the kitchen.
"Oh, no!" Finally Richard could feel some very bad things were about to happen to him.
He had messed up big time and if he started any longer, there was no guarantee if he could walk away on his own two feet.
He quickly threw the paper on the table, picked up his briefcase, ready to make his exit.
And he was absolutely spot on, but he was already late. In no time, Clara reappeared in the kitchen doorway, her face masked with pure fury. In her hand, she brandished her own cast - iron sword, the frying pan.
"Ohh! You are not going anywhere, you bastard!" She screamed in fury and charged at him.
Richard's face went pale with genuine fear. He almost stumbled backwards and fell over the chair. He barely managed to pull himself together and bolted for the front door.
While all this was unfolding downstairs, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, with his messy hair from the morning now perfectly styled, Ethan climbed down the stairs.
He was ready for his interview, but the sight in front of him almost made him slip down the stairs. Clara looked as if she was really out for some blood.
"You are not going anywhere, you cowardly bastard!" Clara roared as she darted forward, "I will show you 'BLOODY' drama."
"Oh boy!" Ethan moved down the stairs in two long strides and in no time he crossed the room and appeared behind her.
Before Clara could swing the pan and fuck up Richard's brains out of his head, he caught her from behind. He wrapped one arm around her waist and with the other he held her arm, trapping her in his embrace.
"Calm down!" His voice was sharp, "What's going on between you two?"
But Clara was in no mood to explain, she struggled to get out of his grip, "Let me go, Ethan! I am going to end him right here!"
"Hey… Take it easy!" Ethan tried to steady her, tightening his hold around her, but in the struggle, his hand slipped upward. And suddenly instead of her waist, his palm was squarely on her right breast, cupping it.
"Eeeehhh!" Clara froze.
The pan wobbled in her hand, nearly slipping from her hand as a jolt of shock surged through her body.
Every muscle of hers went stiff, her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she couldn't even comprehend what had happened.
Heat flared from her back, and raced up her neck. The furious words she had been spitting a second ago now died in her mouth.
But this was his opportunity. Seeing his chance, Richard didn't wait for a second longer.
With Clara held back by Ethan, he flung the door wide and bolted out of the house, not even bothering to even shut the door behind him.
But Clara barely noticed her deadbeat husband run away. The fire of her anger had water poured down by something far more disarming, she could feel his strong chest pressed against her back.
The warmth of his big palm seeped through her night gown and she could feel her nipples going hard. The will of her fight drained away quickly, and was replaced by a disoriented weakness. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, and she had no energy left to struggle.
She was barely standing thanks to Ethan holding her from behind.
Ethan, on realizing that Clara has stopped struggling, he loosened his grip and let go of her breast, "Now that you have calmed down," He said softly, "I will get going. I will be back by evening."
Hearing him, Clara could only manage to nod. The pan in her hand felt as though it weighed a ton, her fingers barely able to keep hold of it.
"Bye then," Ethan leaned in, intending to give a quick, comforting kiss on her cheek.
But Clara, who was still caught in the haze of the moment, just so happened to turn at the exact same moment. And his lips were planted on the delicate skin at the curve of her neck.
The contact of his lips was soft and feather light. But for Clara, it was devastating, and her world was almost shaken to the ground.
As if the flood gates were about to break through the dam, a raw sensation shot through her body, making her knees weaken beneath her. The place where his lips had touched burned as if it was branded.
Ethan, on the other hand, with that always pleasant smile on his face, he said his good bye to Clara and walked out of the house.
As he watched the door shut behind him, the pan in her hand finally slipped out of her fingers. But the sound of it crashing against the wooden door barely reached her ears.
All that fury, the heat of wanting to smash that head of Richard, had evaporated and was replaced with something more primal and physical.
Slowly, her hand rose without thought, and her fingertips brushed the spot at her neck where Ethan's lips had just met. Her breath became heavy and her lips parted slightly. But no sound came out.
Her eyelids dropped as unconsciously her fingers drifted lower, following the heat as it spread through her chest. And finally she replaced Ethan's palm and gently cupped her breast.
"Ummmhh!" A soft moan escaped her lips as she gently squeezed herself. It was her hand, but she was imagining something strong embracing her.
Clara's fingers pressed deeper into the soft flesh beneath the thin fabric of her night gown. She could still feel the lingering sensation of his touch, the kiss planted on her skin, and the wetness between her thighs.
Shame and guilt clawed their way into her mind, 'This is so wrong… So very wrong,' she thought to herself.
But her body betrayed her completely now.
"God… Why do I want him so bad?"
"Why him of all the people?"
Just thinking about his dilemma, her hand slipped down, underneath her night gown.
** ** ** ** **
[
Author's Question: What do you think? What does Carla wants more?
A. Ethan?
B. To smash Richard's head
]