Growing Pains
Part II

      "C'mon, Jericho," she purred, exagerrating his birthname as she rolled her r's. "Tell the truth. There's no one here but you and I. You're torn. Can't make up your mind, can you?"

      A graceful tilt of her head as she swept aside her shoulder-length chestnut tresses afforded Jerry a glimpse of his greatest weaknesess when it came to Sabrina; her neckline and her breasts. Piercing Jerry with a comely gaze he was all too familiar with, her lips curved into a devestatingly cruel smile as her almond-shaped eyes fluttered closed.

      "You don't know, do you?" she whispered.

      "Wh...what?" Jerry's voice sounded like gravel.

      "Whether you want to take me home...and fuck me. Or tell me to fuck off." Her gaze rose to meet his once again, her eyes glittering with triumph. "Well, Jericho...," she challenged, no longer speaking Russian, "which will it be?"

      It was only years of training that enabled Jerry to render his body still. To will the fire seeking to rise from the pit of his belly and tear past his throat to subside. To force down the pain daring to cloud his eyes, replacing it instead with a cold fury.

      For the briefest of seconds, Jerry envisioned his hands around Sabrina's throat. Moments later the image gave way to visons of their nude bodies, entwined atop sweat-drenched sheets. Sabrina's legs wrapped tightly about his waist even as she writhed breathlessly beneath him while Jerry thrust deeply within her heated walls; all the while she pleaded for a mercy both knew he would never give until they both were near delirious. His strong, talented hands ceasing to caress her neck, only to be replaced by his ravenous mouth as his hands blazed an almost desperate path along her arms. Finally coming to rest at her wrists, pinning them above her head...

      Memories were cruel taskmasters, he notely bitterly.

     His gaze never wavering from Sabrina's, he reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket and retrieved the reason for his impromptu visit. Moments later the furious scrawling of pen across paper could be heard. With one last stroke of the pen, Jerry made a rude noise then casually flung the divorce papers on the table.

      "Fuck off, luv."

      And just like that, they were 'officially' over.



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