Giving into life

Ivy’s POV

The bar smelled like whiskey and smoke.

I slid onto a stool near the back, away from the handful of people scattered around the room. A basketball game played on the TV above the bar, but nobody seemed to be watching it. Everyone here looked like they were running from something, yeah the cruelty of life i guess. Welcome to the club.

“What can I get you?” The bartender was older, maybe fifty, with tired eyes that had seen too much.

“Something strong.”

He nodded like he understood exactly what kind of night I was having and poured me a double shot of whiskey. I downed it in one gulp, barely tasting it, just wanting the burn.

“Another.”

He poured again without comment.

The second one went down easier. So did the third. When I downed the fourth, the sharp edges of my pain had started to blur. The constant loop in my head of yesternight.

I was reaching for my fifth shot when someone slid onto the stool next to mine.

“Rough day?”

I turned and found myself looking at a man who definitely didn’t belong in a place like The Blue Room. He was wearing an expensive suit, the kind that probably cost more than my car payment. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that seemed to see right through me.

“Something like that,” I muttered, taking my shot.

He gestured to the bartender. “Two more of whatever she’s having.”

“I didn’t ask you for that.”

“I know.” He smiled, and for a heartbeat I swear I thought it was Ethan, I felt the same way his smile made me feel, the kind of smile that made women behave stupid. 

“I’m Adrian.”

“Ivy.” I said trying to get a grip of myself.

“Nice to meet you, Ivy.” He picked up one of the fresh shots the bartender set down. “To rough days.”

I clinked my glass against his. “To rough days.”

We drank in silence for a moment. The alcohol was working now, making everything softer and distant. I felt disconnected from my body, like I was floating somewhere above myself, watching some other sad woman drink alone in a bar.

“You want to talk about it?” Adrian asked.

“No.”

“Fair enough.”

I liked that he didn’t push. He just sat there, existing next to me while I tried to drown.

“What about you?” I asked, the words coming out slightly slurred. “What’s your rough day?”

“Closed a deal I didn’t want to close. Made money I didn’t need. Same boring shit.”

I laughed, because the alternative was to cry at my miserable life. “Must be so hard being rich.” I mumbled. 

“You’d be surprised.” He turned to look at me properly, his eyes tracing my face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t lie to me.” I could feel tears threatening again. “Everyone’s been lying to me. I can’t handle any more lies.”

“I’m not lying.” His voice was quiet, serious. “You are beautiful. Even with sad eyes and messy hair. Maybe especially with those things.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was playing some game. But I couldn’t figure him out, not even a single hint. Or maybe I was just too drunk to tell the difference anymore.

“I should go,” I said, but I didn’t move.

“Should you?”

“Probably.”

“But you don’t want to.” He was teasing me.

“No.” The word came out as barely a whisper. “I don’t want to go back to that empty house. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. I don’t want to exist in my life right now.”

Adrian was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “There’s a hotel across the street.”

My heart started pounding. I knew what he was offering. And that wasn’t who I was. I had been with exactly one man my entire adult life. I had never even thought about anyone else, never wanted anyone else.

But that woman, that faithful loyal good woman, where had it gotten her? Alone and broken, with everyone she loved thinking she was a cheater anyway.

If they already believed I was guilty, what did I have left to protect?

“Okay,” I heard myself say.

Adrian’s eyes darkened. He threw cash on the bar, way more than our drinks cost, and stood up. Held out his hand and I took it.

We made it to the hotel, the lobby was all marble and gold, the kind of place that probably charged more for one night than I made in a week. Adrian didn’t even look at the price when he asked for a room. Just handed over a black credit card. Okay, that wasn’t normal right? But let’s just get to it.

Neither of us talk, as we enter the elevator. The tension between us was thick enough to choke on. I could feel his eyes on me and the heat of his body standing so close.

The elevator doors opened on the eighth floor and he  led me down the hallway, his hand still holding mine. His palm was warm and calloused. Not soft like Ethan’s.

Okay enough of Ethan’s thoughts.

He opened the door to room 812 and stepped back to let me in first.

The room was huge. I took in the details and that was luxury I was seeing in all its glory. I heard the door close behind me. 

 Adrian approached me and landed his hands on my waist, spinning me around to face him.

“Tell me, do you want this?” he asked, his voice rough. But I don’t think he was asking for my consent because i know he definitely wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I want this.”

“Tell me you’re not going to regret it in the morning.”

I probably would regret everything, but right now, in this moment, I needed to feel something other than the crushing weight of my life falling apart.

“I want this,” I repeated.

Before i could blink, his lips crashed against mine, hard and demanding. Nothing gentle about it. His tongue pushed past my lips, tasting like whiskey and something darker. His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I could feel how much he wanted me pressing against my stomach.

I kissed him back with everything I had. All my pain, my anger, my agony poured into the way my teeth caught his bottom lip, my fingers tangled in his hair and pulling him in.

He groaned into my mouth, walking me backwards until my legs hit the bed. Then he pushed me down, climbing over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

“You sure?” he asked one more time, his hand already pulling my sweater up.

“Stop asking and just do it.”

Something flashed in his eyes, before you know it, my sweater was gone, tossed somewhere across the room. His mouth moved to my neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Good. I wanted that.

My hands fumbled with his belt, shaking from alcohol and lust. He helped me, shoving his pants down while I worked on my own jeans. Everything was clumsy and rushed, nothing like romance or tenderness.

This wasn’t love making. This was an escape.

He hooked his fingers in my underwear and pulled them down my legs, his eyes locked on mine the whole time. Then he was settling between my thighs, and I felt him press against my entrance.

“Last chance,” he murmured.

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

He pushed his cock inside my cunt in one hard thrust, I gasped at the stretch, the fullness, the feeling of someone who wasn’t Ethan.

The thought stabbed through me, sharp and painful, but then Adrian started moving and I stopped thinking at all.

The rhythm was rough, like a punishing, like he was working through his own demons, and surprisingly i love it. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise. Each thrust pushed me higher up the bed until my head was almost hitting the headboard.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, chasing that feeling of being completely consumed, forgetting everything except the sensation of skin on skin, breath on breath, the wet sounds of our bodies moving together. 

“Fuck,” Adrian groaned against my neck. “You feel so good.”

I didn’t answer, just dug my nails into his back and held onto dear life.-

The pleasure built slowly, mixing with all the pain I had been holding inside. When I finally came, it felt less like ecstasy and more like breaking apart. I bit down on Adrian’s shoulder to muffle the sound, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

He followed seconds later, his whole body going rigid before he collapsed on top of me, breathing hard.

We lay there in the dark, tangled together, neither of us speaking.

Reality was going to come crashing back eventually, but I wouldn’t let myself die of despair. The sun would rise, and I would have to face what I had done. Face the fact that I had slept with a stranger to forget my husband.

But for now, for these few stolen hours, I let myself exist in the space between who I used to be and who I was becoming.

I tried not to think about the fact that the person I was becoming might be exactly what everyone already thought I was.