My Time in the Affair (10 page)

“I want you to be '
that chick
', and you're gonna do a lot more than say '
hi
' to me,” he assured her. He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. Dust flew everywhere – his black hair almost looked salt-and-pepper.

“What were you two doing!?” she demanded, her eyes wandering over his clothing again.

“Hmmm, wouldn't you like to know,” he teased, grabbing her hips and pulling her close.

“Yeah, I would. And stop touching me, you're filthy,” she pointed out.

“Oh, c'mon, you love a filthy boy,” he cooed, leaning in to bite on her ear.

“Filthy, not dirty. You're gross,” she informed him.

“Filthy, dirty, nasty, raunchy; I'm a man of many talents,” he whispered, running his tongue along the inside of her ear.

He looked like he had been rolling around in a dried up mud pit, but when he kissed her, Misch didn't stop him. She couldn't resist him. He could've told her to get on her knees for him – in the elevator, dirty as he was – and she would've done it without hesitating.

Why can't life be like a dirty man who kisses good?

*

“Your friend doesn't like me.”

It was closer to forty-five minutes later when Tal and Misch made their way back downstairs.

“No, he's just … closed off,” Tal tried to explain.

“Your '
closed off
' friend doesn't like me,” she repeated herself. He rolled his eyes.

“He doesn't know you, so how can he have an opinion?” he pointed out.

“Um, it's called '
judging
' someone. Is it because of … you know … my thing,” she stuttered around what she was trying to say. They still weren't saying the M-word.

“Ah, '
my thing
', how perfect. Like a cancerous growth,” he chuckled, though it sound angry. Evil.

“
Not funny,
” she snapped.

Mike was completely innocent, a victim of her little infidelity. Well, not so little, anymore – and that just made it worse. She would never let Tal, or anyone, say a disparaging word about him.

“Sensitive. And
no
, it's not cause of that – Ruiz doesn't have morals, I'm pretty sure he
prefers
married women. He's just worried that you're too much of a distraction for me,” Tal told her. She bit at her bottom lip.

“Am I? I don't want to get you in trouble,” she replied. Suddenly, his hand was on her ass, grabbing her roughly, yanking her up against his side. He seemed to prefer her that way, always pressed against him. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it, someone needing to touch her that much.

“Baby, you are the biggest distraction I've ever had in my entire life.
I love it
. Let me worry about my work,” he assured her.

“That would be easier if I knew exactly what it was.”

They strode into the lounge, and he ignored her statement as he said hello to his friend.

Ruiz still looked at her in that smiling-not-smiling way, but didn't say anything. They ordered dinner and drinks. Conversation flowed. Tal was cheeky and witty, but Ruiz was more laugh-out-loud and slapstick funny. He had a slight accent, and it was finally revealed that he was originally from Cuba.

They finished dinner and moved up to the bar, ordered some real drinks. Ruiz seemed to loosen up with her, and he regaled her with stories of Tal. Places they'd been and stupid things Tal had done while there. He had a penchant for getting caught in public doing nasty acts that were better left to be done in bedrooms. Apparently, Mischa wasn't the only one he liked to indulge in that fetish with.

She eventually let go of the feeling that Ruiz didn't like her, she was having such a good time. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard, had felt so carefree. With her friends, she was always hiding her shameful secret – with these men, it was open, and it was accepted. With her husband, she was always walking on eggshells because he was easy to offend and always wanted to be the center of attention – with these men, they could dish it
and
take it, and even encouraged her to be the same.

“You guys are too much,” she struggled to breathe, she was laughing so hard. Tal was walking away, going off in search of the bathroom.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Ruiz's laughter died down.

“I haven't laughed this much in a long time,” she sighed, wiping at her eyes.

“Tal's good for a laugh.”

It was said in a dry voice, and it sobered her of her giggles.

“He's pretty funny,” she attempted to lighten the mood back up.

“He is. So tell me something,” Ruiz began, leaning against the bar, getting closer to her. It was funny, but when Tal got in her personal space, even that very first time, she hadn't minded. With this man, she minded very much.

“What?” she asked, crossing her legs. He was standing close enough that her knee brushed against his waist.

“What's your deal with my friend?” he questioned.

Phew, he's just worried about his buddy.

“No deal. He's a great guy, we bumped into each other one night,” she started to explain.

“That's it? You just '
bumped
' into him?” Ruiz clarified.

“Yeah. I promise, I'm not trying to break up the band,” she assured him.

“I get it. So it's just, like, sex. Right?”

Whoa. This one isn't shy at all.

“Well, I guess so. Sort of,” Misch responded, though that didn't cover it. Not at all. She'd been trying not to think about it, but it was now obvious they were so much more than that – she could never say that's all they were, would never call what they did '
just sex
'.

“You flew all the way to Italy just to get some ass. Man, things must be
rough
at home,” Ruiz said, his eyes wandering down her body.

“Excuse me!?” she was a little shocked.

“Hot little thing like you? Who wouldn't want to give it to you good. Who else are you doing while you're here?” he kept on with the questions. Mischa felt her face burning up.

“Nobody, it's not like that. I'm not like that,” she snapped.

Only … you kinda are.

“Woman cheating on her husband with a dude she doesn't know. You are definitely like that, baby. Why not give me a crack at that pussy?”

Misch jumped off her stool and went to push past him. He wrapped an arm around her back and held her in place. Meanwhile, his other hand ran up and down the side of her body. She felt sick.

“Get the fuck off me!” she all but yelled, shoving and hitting at his chest.

“C'mon! If you think Tal can show you a good time, wait till you see what -,”

“
What the fuck are you doing!?
”

Tal was a big man with a dark complexion and intense features – picturing him angry was easy. Seeing it and hearing it, though, was a whole different ball game. Even Mischa was scared at the tone of his voice, at the sight of him walking up to them.

“Hey, it's cool, man,” Ruiz laughed, letting go of Mischa. She stumbled backwards into Tal, who practically shoved her behind him.

“It's not fucking cool – what the fuck!?” Tal demanded.

I'm so the Yoko. God, I'm horrible.

“I'm gonna go, you guys can work this out,” she said, backing away. Tal turned and pointed at her.

“
You stay
. And you,” he turned back towards his friend. “You have five seconds to tell me what the fuck you were thinking.”

“You said she was a good time. I wanted to see for myself.”

All hell broke loose after that; Tal stormed right up to the other man, got right in his face, started yelling at him. Ruiz rolled his eyes and was a smart-mouth right back. The bartender started yelling at everyone. People were shoved. Threats of violence were made.

Misch turned and scurried out of the bar.

It was one thing for her to destroy her own relationships. She wasn't about to destroy anyone elses.

“
Mischa!?
” Tal snapped, walking across the lobby.

“She's gone, man, let it go,” Ruiz groaned, following a short distance behind him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tal growled back before heading outside onto the sidewalk. But Ruiz was right, Misch was long gone. She'd snuck out while Tal had been threatening to shove Ruiz's head up his ass.

“You can go find your hot piece of ass later. We need to talk this shit over,” his partner called out.

“I don't have to talk about shit with you! You seem to keep forgetting,
partner
, who outranks who,” Tal reminded him.

“Oh, I haven't forgotten a thing. You seem to have forgotten a lot. What are you thinking, fucking around with her!? Why didn't you say anything!?” Ruiz demanded, walking up next to him. He was holding his nose, trying to stave off the bleeding. Tal had punched him, a clean jab to the center of his face.

Call her another name, fucker.

“Cause it was none of your damn business. It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't change anything,” Tal stressed.

“Are you fucking with me!? It completely compromises the integrity of our mission! So you need to remember what the fuck we're doing here! And remember that we're not gonna be here for long, either,” Ruiz snapped.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you were looking pretty fucking cuddly with this bitch, which isn't necessary if you're just in it for the pussy. She's fucking married, bro. As in
not yours
. She's using you, too. You don't live here, you're here for a job, and you need to fucking remember everything that job entails. Remember what we're here for.”

Well, when he lays it all out like that, it sounds fucked up.

Tal glared at him and walked a few feet away. Of course, he knew Ruiz was right. They were in Italy to do a job, and then they would be gone. Assigned elsewhere. It wasn't like he could take Mischa with him – for a whole bundle of fucked up reasons he didn't even want to begin to get into. And even if by some magical way he
was
able to,
she
couldn't go. She belonged to someone else.

No. Not while she's here. Something about this woman … while we're here, she's mine.

“Look,” he sighed, turning back to his partner. “I get it, alright. Your little act was super cute, trying to piss me off, trying to scare her off. Don't worry about me, okay? I know what I'm doing. I know what's going on, I know what the mission is. You know me, you know I wouldn't do anything to compromise that. I'm just having a little fun.”

This stopped being “fun” a while ago. How did I not notice? She's more than just a “fun time”
.

Ruiz stared at him for a long time, scowling. Then he took a deep breath and nodded.

“Fine.
Fine
. I trust you, man. And you were right, she's a knock out. A sweetheart. I just ... don't want your little crush ruining all our months of hard work,” he said.

“It won't.”

Ruiz gave a curt nod, then walked off down the street, running his hand over his head. Cursing in Spanish.

Tal turned the other way and snapped for a hotel valet to get him a taxi. When he slid into the back seat, he pulled out his phone. Called Misch's number. But just like he'd assumed would happen, she didn't answer.

He chewed at his thumb nail while the car raced across the city. He hadn't really taken the time to think about it before, what was going on between them. He'd told her they were just winging it, just having fun. That's really all it could be, fun ...

But it was already more. Somehow, in their small space of time, it had become more. He'd felt it before he'd left. He'd felt it even more while he'd been gone. And he felt it now more than ever, as he worried that Ruiz had possibly ruined something amazing, before it had even really started.

What am I doing, chasing a married woman all over Rome? I'm a stupid, stupid man. Only me. I'm the only man on earth who, when I decided to fall for a woman, she's fucking married. Figures.

He didn't bother stopping at the front desk or trying to call her again. Just went straight up to her room. Knocked on the door. It took her a while to answer and he was leaning against the door frame when she opened up.

“I told you not to move,” he said, smiling down at her. She frowned up at him, her bottom lip being worked between her teeth, and she kept the door mostly closed.

“When it's just us, Tal, it's kinda like a dream, as cheesy as that sounds. But being around other people, makes it real. And reality is horrible,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

God, don't say that. Nothing about us is horrible. I'm beginning to think we're the only “right” that's going on in our lives.

“Ruiz was being a dick, he's just … work has him worried,” Tal tried to explain. Tried to reassure her. Tried to remove that worried look from her face. He knew it was lame, but he wasn't in a position where he could tell her more. Her eyes slid away from his, stared off down the hall.

“It's not just him,” she replied.

Oh.

“What happened? Did
he
call?” Tal asked bluntly. She'd never really talked about her husband, wouldn't say a word about him, and still. In his own mind, Tal had grown to hate the man. Hated sharing something with him. Mischa still wouldn't look at him. She just frowned and nodded.

Tal didn't know what had happened to Mischa's relationship, couldn't wrap his brain around it. She was sexy. Beyond that, she was beautiful. Captivating. Something. Something big. Like the sun, just pulling him into her gravitational field.

He reached for her, tracing his fingers down the side of her face, and her eyes slowly closed. She had amazing hazel eyes, one of them a slightly darker shade than the other. He kept moving, slowly slipping his fingers into her hair. Moving his hand around her head, attempting to pull her forward. She held her ground.

“Tal,” she whispered his name, not opening her eyes.

“Just let me be with you,” he whispered back. He didn't know where the words were coming from, but there they were.

Let me make you feel whole.

He continued pulling, and she finally moved. Allowed him to pull her out into the hall. Allowed herself to be pulled into him. Allowed him to kiss her. Kiss her like how she deserved to be kissed. How she should
always
be kissed.

What the fuck am I doing?

*

“How about school?” Tal threw out. Misch glanced at him.

“I went to the University of Michigan, studied dancing,” she replied, kicking her leg up for effect. He smiled.

“I knew that.”

“What about you?”

“Didn't really go to school. I was in the Israeli Army for a while,” he told her. Misch was surprised. Not just that he'd been in the army in Israel, but that he'd actually answered the question.

After he'd talked his way into the room, things had calmed down. He'd made himself comfortable while she'd gone into the bathroom and tried to clean up her face. When she'd come back out, he'd been sitting at the foot of her bed. She had a standard hotel room, not a suite like him. There was only a queen sized bed, and two cushioned chairs pulled up to a small, circular table, and that was it for furniture.

Misch had stretched out on the bed, upside down, and rested her feet against the wall. Tal laid down from where he was sitting, and both their heads were near each other. Then they started talking.

Something they'd said they wouldn't do.

“Military man, I should've guessed. Is that what you do now, take pictures for the military?” she continued, dropping her feet so they were on the pillows, her legs bent at the knees.

“No, I haven't been in the military for a while. I left when I was twenty-three,” he explained. With him saying that, she realized for the first time that she didn't even know his age.

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“How'd you get into photography?”

“Long story.”

“I've got time.”

“Maybe I don't.”

“Testy.”

“I'd rather hear about you. You're more interesting. How old are you? How'd college work out for you?”

“Twenty-seven. I graduated with a liberal arts degree, but I always wanted to be a dance instructor. I was in a studio for a long time, but then I tore my ACL. I went to work in insurance, never went back,” she filled him in.

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

“I don't know. It just wasn't … I almost didn't want to dance anymore. I mean, I did, but I gained a lot of weight. I always felt like shit, my marriage was horrible, everything. Dancing just made it worse. So I didn't do it,” she tried to explain. There was a small pause, then Tal cleared his throat.

“So what was your plan?” he asked. It was vague, but she knew what he meant.

“I was gonna come here and be a heartless vixen. I had given up when you found me,” she reminded him.

“I'm glad I did.”

“Me, too. I never meant for it to be more, though,” she spoke slowly, not wanting to spook him. “Maybe a one night stand here and there. It sounds awful, but I just wanted to cheat, just wanted to sleep with other people. I just …
wanted to be touched
. I wasn't looking to have an affair, I didn't want to do that to him. Physically cheating is bad enough. Emotionally cheating … that's even worse.”

“Why did you marry him?” Tal questioned. She'd been waiting for it.

“Because I loved him. I
love
him, as hard as that is to believe. We started dating when we were nineteen, and it was so awesome, you know? We had been best friends, and we got along great, and then hey, throw sex in the mix, and it felt like the jackpot. But after a couple years, it kinda cooled off. I just chalked it up to how relationships go or whatever. He had started a new job, I was busy at the studio. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't have spent so much time there,” she finished with a sigh.

“No. If that was the only problem, then it would've changed when you stopped dancing,” Tal pointed out. She shrugged.

“Maybe. I thought getting married would change things. Like, maybe he was all stressed out about proposing. Then I told myself it was the stress of planning the wedding. I just kept making excuses, kept thinking things would be different once we got married. That things would get better. But they didn't. They just kept getting worse. Both of us stopped caring about each other, at least in that way. We're still friends, though,” Misch assured him.

“Hmmm,
friends
. I can't think of anything worse than being married to a girl who '
friend zoned
' me,” he said. She frowned.

“But it wasn't always like this, really. We used to have such great times – we still do. You'd probably like him, he's a lot like me, only funnier. Always up for a good time, always wants to be laughing, or doing something,” she described her husband. Now it was Tal's turn to frown.

“I don't think I could ever like someone like him,” he replied.

“That's not really fair – just because I'm unhappy, doesn't make him a bad guy or something,” she argued.

“That's not why I wouldn't like him, I don't think he's a bad guy.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don't think I could like any man that has touched you the way I get to touch you,” Tal's voice was low. Mischa felt a flush spread across her body.

Heelllloooooo, new territories, new boundaries.

“Oh. Well. I doubt you'll ever meet my husband, anyway.”

“
Good.
”

“Stop it.”

“You know what the problem is?” Tal suddenly said. Misch turned her head towards him. He was a little lower on the bed and she was looking into his dark hair.

“Enlighten me.”

“You married your best friend,” he said in a simple voice. She rolled her eyes and looked back at the ceiling.

“That's stupid. Everyone should be friends with the person they marry,” she argued.

“Friends, yes. Of course. But you didn't say that, you said he was your '
best friend
'. I think when you guys started having sex, you got confused about what you really were. You thought sex meant he was your soulmate. No, sex just meant you were banging your best friend,” Tal explained.

Misch stayed silent and stared up at the ceiling.
Best friends
. She'd always been so proud of that fact, that she'd married her best friend. That they had such a great friendship. She knew a lot of married couples who barely knew each other. Not her and Mike, they were besties, could finish each others sentences.

But what Tal was saying, it felt
right
. She and Mike had been best friends for a long time, since before they started sleeping together. She had always been attracted to Mike, he was an attractive guy, and when they'd started sleeping together, that attraction had only grown, because he was good in bed.