Filthy Beautiful Lies(#1#2)

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Seeing Sophie after her run – breathing hard from exertion and pink as a berry makes me want things I told myself I couldn’t have. She’s not really mine, so none of this should matter to me, yet it does, tremendously.

I head to my office, needing to relieve some sexual tension. It would be so easy to fall into familiar routines. I could make one phone call – fuck, I could even just send a one-line text and have Marta back over here, ready and willing to suck me off. Lord knows she’d do it. Probably drop everything and jump at the chance. Though it’d been a long ass time since we’d done anything like that, the way she still occasionally looks at me, her eyes wandering over my toned chest and abs told me she’d be up for some genital-on-genital contact. Even after I’d told her that despite what had happened in the past, she and I needed to remain on a professional level, she’d kept herself single all these years, waiting, silently watching my relationship with Stella build, and then fall apart. But I knew if I made that call, I wouldn’t get the satisfaction I was seeking, and I’d end up feeling worse. Regret would churn somewhere deep inside me. I didn’t want Marta. I wanted Sophie. And ever since my life – or at least my love life – went down the tubes two years ago, I vowed to live life with no regrets, so it was back to the original plan.

This line of thinking reminds me of the conversation I had with Sophie the other night. Her sister’s illness, just like my previous harrowing experience puts your life into perspective. It makes you weigh the things in your life, and put everything under a microscope – what you’re doing, how you spend your days. After I found out the truth about Stella, I could have easily spiraled into a heavy-drinking male whore. Instead I threw myself further into my work and my charity. Doing anything else would have put me on the same level as her. And I wanted to be better than that, shit, I needed it.

My brothers’ conversation comes flashing back to the forefront. They were shocked to hear I wasn’t sleeping with Sophie, but they don’t know the half of it. They’d be stunned to learn I haven’t had a single partner in two years – that I’ve been living a celibate life, devoting myself only to my work. They’d be even more shocked to learn that Stella wasn’t the one still holding things up between us. I was. And I had my reasons. Reasons I hoped to figure out and finally deal with soon. Maybe then I can finally put the past behind me and build a future –a concept that both excites and scares the fuck out of me.

I sink down into my office chair and click on my computer.

The first order of business is to get some sexual relief.