Jason opened his mouth, but no words came out. I just stared, my body shaking, and the tears started again. Embarrassed, I turned and slid the door of the shower open and quickly fumbled out. I reached for one of the clean towels and wrapped it around my body. The water turned off behind me, and Jason stepped out, reaching for another towel.
"Sam, I..." He started, then stopped. I turned back to look at him again, then left the bathroom, heading for the walk-in closet in our bedroom. As the door swung shut behind me, I unwrapped the towel and began rubbing my body vigorously. I needed to calm down, and get dressed. I needed to get out of this house and collect my thoughts. I towel dried my hair and let the wet towel fall in a pile in the corner of the closet. As I did, the door opened behind me and Jason entered, a towel around his waist.
"I didn't mean for it to happen. She doesn't mean anything to me, I mean, I'm not in love with her or anything, it was just sex, and only those two times, please, let's talk about this." The words spilled out of Jason's mouth, he was talking so fast he was tripping over his words.
"Only those two times, huh? Well, good to know. As far as I knew it had only been once. I didn't get to finish the story before you came home," I knew I sounded like a sarcastic bitch, but I couldn't hold it in, especially after hearing he had been with her again in the last two weeks. My insides churned with rage, jealousy, and desire. If I was so mad, and hurt, why did I want to fuck him again? The more jealous I felt, the wetter I got. I stood there, naked, glaring at Jason.
"You've known since last week? That night after my shower? And you didn't say anything? And the way you fucked me that night..." He looked at me, confused.
"I knew about the sexting, and the night at Joe's bar. I didn't know about the night at her place until today. When was the second time? Wait, I don't know if I even want to know." I put my hand up and turned to find a shirt, grabbing the first one I touched. Jason moved closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Calm down, let's go talk. Don't leave, not like this. I love you, and right now I'm terrified. I know I fucked up, but please don't leave me like this." Jason begged, as his hands slid down my hips and back up to my belly. I felt his breath on my neck, and shivered, waiting for his lips. Wanting him to kiss me, but at the same time, wanting him to get the hell away from me. I closed my eyes and images of Rachel giving him a blow job again filled my mind. I thought of her red polka dot dress, and the passionate sex they had, not once, but twice. I thought of the desire between the two of them, and it reminded me of us in the beginning of our relationship. The way we use to be when we were just dating.
I turned then, and pressed my body against his. I hid my face against his neck, torn between shoving him away, and wrapping my legs around his waist. My hands stayed at my sides, indecisive, my breath shallow as I tried to keep the tears at bay. His arms wrapped around me, hugging my body close to his. His lips pressed against my ear, my cheek, my neck, and my hands finally reached for him. I tilted my head back, giving his lips access to my throat. I moaned as his tongue and lips caressed my throat softly. My mind raced with conflicting thoughts; how could I find the thought of him with Rachel so fucking hot, yet be filled with intense jealousy?
I pushed him away and headed for the door, still naked. He followed behind me, towel still wrapped around his waist. As I reached the bed, I turned to face him, stopping him in his tracks. He looked terrified and unsure what to do. My anger flared as I walked toward him again, "Tell me about it. I want every detail. I read all about the first time you fucked while I was at that stupid movie. Now I want you to tell me about the second time."
"Uh, I don't think you really want to hear about it, I think you need to calm down, Sam," Jason whispered.
"Oh no, I want you to tell me," I pushed him furiously toward the bed. "Every detail. Tell me where you were, and what she did to you, what you did to her." He walked toward the bed and as he turned to sit, I shoved him down and climbed on top of him, holding his chest down when he tried to sit up. "Where were you."
He paused, unsure what to do. Finally he began, "At her place again. It was on Thursday afternoon. We left work early, at lunchtime. We picked up lunch and headed back to her place to eat. Honestly, Sam, I don't know if you really want to hear this..."
"I do," I said, and sat back on him, my hands still on his chest.
