The Love Affair

Chapter Eleven

Before I'd become a published author myself, I relied on the access of imagination laid out by other authors who I adored to read. The reckless number of hours I'd spent flickering through a book, bending its spine as I tucked myself on the ledge of my window, wondering when on earth my romance would be as dreamy as described. And then I met Nick, we were smitten the instance we set eyes on each other. He was my first love. My first inspiration when I finally put pen to paper. I didn't think it was possible. After all, the men I had read about, who were charming, romantic and ultimately a dream, had set a high bar. An expectation I didn't think was possible. And then when Nick did arrive in the scene, I didn't need to rely on those fantasies no longer. I had the real thing. So, when writing came along, I had all I needed to weave and tweak to suit an audience who desired romance. And now, I had slept with another guy. Something I had a great grudge against. No one liked cheaters. And yet, here I was going against myself, my characters who were all high-moral women. I had never written a romance that involved cheating. And yet, I was, and it wasn't based off some fiction, it was real. I cheated.

So, when Shane had told me I wouldn't be able to fester resistance against him. I knew deep down he was telling the truth. It didn't exactly help that I willingly allowed Shane to lean in towards me and gently caress my lips with the pad of his thumb.

"Rose, you can't resist," he had muttered softly. I had listened to my heart drumming, wanting more as I tried to push those thoughts out. In the end, I had raced away, slammed my front door and exhaled deeply. Tears had threatened in the blink of my eyes as I sought the energy to move off the front door. The front door where Shane had had me pinned against, our lips fighting together and our hands worshipping every inch of our bodies. Stop, stop, I had shaken my head frantically, feeling overwhelmed as I sank to my feet.

And now I sat in the study with a glass of red wine on the desk beside the keyboard and feeling the pounding of my head from the several glasses I had consumed. I felt dazed as I read the words. Read the undeniable attraction bursting out from the several pages.

Elle knew that the next door neighbour was tempting her. She knew she was tempted. That growing urge of connection wouldn't subside even as she thought of her fiancé, Andre. She couldn't cheat but the sexual tension between herself and Andre was just overwhelming for words. Elle wanted him. She wanted to feel his fingertips all over her, hear the sound of her name slip from his tongue and completely fall in surrender to him. Andre was far from her thoughts, he was like a broken memory trying best to hang on. Elle knew it was bad. But she wanted him.

Put one and one together, I thought. It was pathetic. I couldn't allow Nick to see this. It would be too obvious. I had never written something so dark, insane like this. How exasperating it was to know that this was fiction and my reality was not. Elle, what are you doing, I almost said aloud as I clicked off the document, knowing all too well Elle was me. I had saved the document knowing deep down I couldn't find the will to want to part from it. I'm in too deep with this now.

"Rose!" I heard Nick call out as the front door followed with a gentle slam. I got up, turning the monitor off before I met Nick halfway going up the stairs. He was smiling as he took off his brown leather jacket and threw it down the stairs.

"Babe, you're going---"

Before I could even finish my nagging sentence, his lips clashed against mine unexpectedly. It was a struggle to hold onto the banister as his tongue rummaged through my mouth, the passion flourishing through as I stood there, stiff and robotic. Once, he'd pulled back, he clasped my hand and tugged me along. It was obvious. Nick wanted sex. Sex he'd missed out on Sunday. Something I didn't miss, my conscience teased.