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What have I done?
His body twitches, and I can’t ignore the way his hands shake before he tucks them into his pockets. Slowly, he turns around connecting his gaze with mine.
“Do you need—”
“No,” I interrupt, too mortified to ask for anything. “I’m good.”
His head bobs in a nod as he backtracks toward the door. With one deep breath, one last look that’s indecipherable, he spins away, slamming the door behind him.
In for five, out for five.
In for five, out for five.
My eyes drift shut as I arch my spine, bending deeply into the pose. The feeling of my yoga mat beneath my fingertips and the sun beaming through the windows of the sunroom grounds me in a way so few things do anymore. Maybe ever.
I hold the pose until my lower spine is no longer burning, reveling in the deep, cathartic stretch, before shifting into Downward Dog. My thighs tingle and protest at first, reminding me of what I’d done to make them ache in the first place.
My throat burns just as badly as my muscles and try as I might, I can’t force the thoughts of last night away.
I tossed and turned, replaying every second I spent with Isaac. Every heated touch, every rasping moan. Even the fact that he’d come inside me twisted my stomach, and not in a bad way.
In for five, out for five.
In for five, out for five.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I remember how I’d been so caught up in my thoughts I dug myself deeper into the pit of bad decisions. My fingers found their way between my thighs and in the pitch black silence of my room, I succumbed to the fantasy that I created. Wishing Isaac would have stayed rather than running away, that he’d joined me in my bed, fucking me again and again instead of leaving me to clean up the mess by myself.
Literally.
In for five, out for five.
In for five, out for five.
My phone pings with an incoming message but I ignore it, already knowing what, who, it is. I roll my eyes, forcing myself to stay present, unwilling to give up my morning routine for anyone.
The old pipes rattle above me as Isaac turns the shower on, and I let out a low groan. I guess I will give up my routine for someone. Huffing, I drop to my knees, my head tipping back as I stare up at the slats in the ceiling. The rickety fans whirls, each rotation lulling me deeper into a trance-like state.
This is my favorite part.
Shavasana.
Reconnecting with my spirit, grounding myself mind, body and soul. Normally, this is the time I’d be setting my intentions for the day, but without my permission, those damn thoughts of last night come tumbling back in.
His hips grinding against mine. His lips trailing along my throat. His teeth tugging on my lower lip until it bled.
My tongue darts out, tracing the wound, and I smile to myself at the visceral representation that last night was real. My smile widens as I realize that the small cut will be visible at church this morning and I half wonder if anyone will notice it.
Will it be a beacon, alerting everyone of the taboo night I shared with their beloved preacher, or will they assume it’s nothing more than an innocent mark?
Shaking my head at the sudden turn of my thoughts, I shove to my feet with a deep sigh. Apparently I’m done for the morning. After rolling up my mat and rearranging the furniture in the sunroom, I snag my phone and heave out an annoyed breath.
Daddy555:
I want to see you again, sweetheart
Goldengirl69:
I’m not taking any requests at this time.
