Shattered and held

He didn’t say anything as I stood, didn’t ask me to stay, didn’t stop me. He just sat there, staring down into his drink like it had the answers he didn’t. That silence—his silence—was all the confirmation I needed.

I left Dom inside the coffee bar.

As I walked out to my car, the late afternoon sun hit me in the face, too bright for how I felt. I fumbled with my keys and my purse, juggling everything as I tried to find my phone, which had inevitably sunk to the very bottom. My fingers brushed pens, receipts, a tube of lip balm I never used, before finally wrapping around the cool, flat rectangle of my phone.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I called Vince.

“I broke up with Dom,” I said. “I need you to come over.”

“I’m on my way,” he said.

By the time I was parking my car in my unnecessarily large driveway, Vince was already walking up to my front door, shoving his keys into his jeans front pocket. I parked, grabbed my stuff, and met him at the front door.

He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and took some of the stuff out of my hands.

“I need to be distracted,” I said.

“How do you need to be distracted?” he asked.

“Figure it out,” I said as I unlocked the door.

We entered, and he closed the door behind us. We kicked our shoes off and walked into the kitchen. We plopped my stuff on one of the kitchen table chairs.

Vince turned to me and kissed me. He told me that he was going to distract me by showing me what I deserve inside and outside of bed.

As we made our way to my bedroom, we stripped, and our clothes fell on the floor. When we got to my bed, Vince lifted my fat ass onto the bed and then followed suit as I was getting situated on my back.

He hovered over me and kissed my neck, his hands sliding down my sides, gripping my thighs as he spread them open beneath him. I could feel how hard he was as he pressed between my legs, and I arched into him, needing the contact, needing the weight of him against me.

“You want this?” he asked, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear.

“Yes,” I breathed. “God, yes.”

He didn’t waste time. He pushed into me slow, thick, deep, making me gasp as my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. His hands braced on either side of my head as he started moving—long, full thrusts that made the bed creak beneath us.

“You feel so good,” he groaned into my neck.

“Harder,” I whispered, digging my nails into his back.

He obeyed, and I met him stroke for stroke, lifting my hips into his thrusts, moaning his name without apology. The tension built fast, sharp, and sweet. I felt my orgasm start to crest, my thighs trembling.

“Don’t stop,” I panted.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice rough with restraint.

I came hard, clenching around him, dragging a low, guttural sound from his throat. He cursed, buried himself deeper, and came inside me, his body tensing above mine as he let go.

We stayed like that for a moment, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us catching our breath.

Eventually, he kissed me again, slower this time, his hands still exploring, still wanting.

The second time was slower, more intimate, but no less intense. He started by rolling me onto my side, pulling my leg over his hip. He entered me again and moved with a steady rhythm that let every thrust draw out the pleasure. His lips stayed on mine, or my neck, or my breast, like he couldn’t stop needing to feel me everywhere at once.

“I love having sex with you like this,” he murmured into my skin.

“Then don’t stop,” I whispered.

He didn’t. He made me come again with just the grind of his hips and the weight of his hand on my thigh. I moaned loud, no shame, and he kissed the sound right out of my mouth as he finished again, pulsing deep inside me.

We rested for a bit, tangled in each other’s limbs, sweat cooling on our skin. I ran my fingers through his hair, and he traced lazy circles on my hip.

Then we went for a third round. This one was rougher—more urgent. He bent me over the bed and took me from behind, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip. He filled me again and again, his pace relentless.

“Is this what you needed?” he asked, breathless.

“Yes,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. Just like that—please.”

He didn’t stop until we were both shaking, and I felt him spill into me once more with a groan that echoed in my chest.

Afterward, we finally got out of bed, both of us moving slower now. We pulled our clothes back on—me in a tank and shorts, Vince slipping his jeans back on. I padded into the kitchen barefoot, still flushed and warm.

“I’m starving,” I said when he joined me.

“Same. What are you thinking?”

“Aditi’s,” I said without hesitation. “Butter chicken. Garlic naan. You want your usual?”

He nodded, already pulling out his phone. “Extra samosas this time.”

I smiled and tossed him the menu from the drawer even though we both knew it by heart.

We ordered the usual spread: rich, creamy butter chicken with extra sauce to soak up with the garlic naan, Vince’s lamb vindaloo with just enough heat to make his nose run, and plenty of paneer tikka for sharing. I couldn’t decide between jeera and basmati rice, so I asked for both, and Vince threw in extra vegetable samosas like he always did when he was starving. I asked for a mango lassi, and he got a chilled Limca. For dessert, Aditi always included warm gulab jamun because she knew I had a weakness for them.

We ordered enough for two people who had just had multiple rounds of sex and weren’t planning to do much else the rest of the night. He texted our order to Aditi. Knowing my sweet friend, she would add a little bit more food than what was ordered.

We curled up on the couch while we waited, still a little breathless, very satisfied, and not saying much at all. Knowing the food would arrive soon, I got up and poured the both of us red wine. As I was heading back to the couch to rejoin Vince, the doorbell rang. Since he was getting up to get the plates and utensils ready, he said that he’d get the door. On his way, he grabbed his wallet.

“It’s Dom,” Vince said after looking through the peephole. “Want me to say something or do you want to?”

“I will,” I said as I placed the wine glasses down. “Please let me handle this myself.”

Vince nodded in agreement as I opened the door. I knew that he wanted to disagree with me but he knew how much Dom had meant to me when we were together and he still means something even now.

“Dom,” I said, holding my breath. “You smell like cheap whiskey. That shit can destroy your stomach and intestines.”

“DeppGrl, what can I do to get you back?” he asked.

“You can’t,” I said as I sat next to him. “I know that you didn’t mean to hurt me but you did. Women are wired differently than men are.”

“Can we be friends sometime in the future?” he asked.

“I’d like that but I can’t promise t,” I said as I noticed his car parked askew. “I’ll call a friend and his buddy to take you home. I can’t let you leave my house this drunk and expect you to not hurt anyone including yourself.”

“So you still care for me?” he asked hopefully.

“I always will, Dom,” I said as I texted my friend to come get Dom and his car. “However, do not keep your hopes up.”

“Will you ever come by the restaurant again?”

“No, I won’t,” I said as I spotted my friend….glad that he lived down the road from me. “My friend is here. He’ll get you home safely.”

“And my car?”

“Yes,” I said. “Hey, Jerry. Dom.”

They both did the “man nod” that showed that they acknowledged each other.

“Where’s Twix?” I asked Jerry.

“He’s on his way,” he said. “He had to go grab his wallet.”

“Ah, cool,” I said. Twix – a dear friend of mine who’s legal name I never knew and the man loved Twix chocolate bars – lived across the street from Jerry. He was known to have a Twix candy bar or five handy most times.

I texted both Jerry and Twix Dom’s address as we saw Twix jogging over.

“Hey, DeppGrl,” Twix said as he hugged me. “This is the dude that has the ancient beater?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s always loved that junkyard car more than he loved me!”

Dom was denying that as I told him that I was joking even though I really wasn’t.

“This is a 1964 Ferrari 250 GTO in original candy apple red,” Twix said in awe. “I’ve always wanted to see one in person and now I get to drive one?”

“Be careful with my baby,” Dom said without even thinking. I made a good choice in breaking up with him.

I tossed the keys to Twix and thanked both men for taking care of my former boyfriend. They nodded and helped Dom into Jerry’s four door sedan. I was thankful that I have friends like Jerry and Twix. I loved them dearly and appreciated them both more than they’d ever know. They and their wives were all close friends but no one in the neighborhood knew that they were all swingers. I kept their secret and they kept mine.

I went back inside to find Vince asleep on the couch. Fifteen minutes later, Jerry texted me saying that he and Twix got Dom home safely and they have him wash off that horrid whiskey. I thanked Jerry for taking care of Dom for me.

As I stared out the kitchen window, I saw headlights sweep across the neighbor’s house. I knew it was Aditi so I stepped outside to greet her so Vince wouldn’t wake up. We greeted each other with a hug and she handed over four full bags of food. Before I could ask her why so much food, she said that she knew that Vince and I would need it to keep up our energy. I handed her $300 for the food though I knew it was more than the food was worth. She was grateful. She handed over the food and we waved to each other as she got in her car.

When I got back inside with the food, Vince was awake and ready to have sex again before eating. The second I put the food on the counter, I turned around to kiss Vince. As we were kissing, I slid my shorts and my barely there panties off and Vince slid his shorts and his boxers off. In one swift movement, Vince lifted me up to the counter and gently put me down on the marble countertop. The marble felt cold against my skin as I spread my legs.

Vince entered me again without hesitation, one hand braced against the counter, the other gripping my hip as he rocked into me. His thrusts were slow but powerful, the sound of our bodies echoing in the kitchen. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close as our mouths collided.

"You never get tired of this, do you?" he asked between kisses.

"Not even a little," I said, breathless.

He groaned, his hips moving faster, deeper. "You feel so damn good."

I clung to him, trembling as my orgasm hit again, sharp and hot. Vince followed moments later, his moan low and rough in my ear as he came inside me for the fourth time that day.

We collapsed against each other, laughing quietly, still tangled. I was still trembling when Vince pulled out. “Wait here,” he said, disappearing upstairs. A moment later, he returned with a warm washcloth, gently wiping me clean. The softness of the fabric against my skin was comforting—an intimate care that made me feel safe and cherished. He threw the wash cloth into the laundry room then helped me off the counter. We pulled out clothes back on, cleaned where we had sex and took dishes and utensils out to serve the food.

“Now,” I whispered, “we eat.”

“Finally,” he grinned, breathless.

We settled back down to devour Aditi’s feast, the scent of spices wrapping us in comfort. Between being in Vince’s arms and eating Aditi’s amazing food, the day was finally turning around.

We ate until we were stuffed. We packed up the rest of the food, poured ourselves more wine and cleaned up the kitchen, putting the food into the fridge. As we headed to the living room, we were contemplating whether or not to watch something on Netflix or not. We agreed that we’d watch a movie of his choice. It was a football movie – which surprised me but I said that I’d watch something of his choice.

After a while, I looked over at Vince, feeling a surge of something tender amid the chaos. I reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

“Vince,” I said softly, “can you stay the night?”

He looked at me, surprise flickering in his eyes before a slow smile spread across his face. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

And just like that, I felt a little less alone.