Sick with a Sex Addiction novel · Chapter 3 of 12
Chapter 3: The Old House
Teodoro pointed with one finger to the gap between the bookshelf and the wall.
I hid there, my heart in my throat and my blouse half-buttoned.
He ran a hand through his hair, straightened his shirt, and opened the door just a crack.
"Bruno."
"Professor. Am I interrupting?"
"I was grading papers."
"I just wanted to ask you about the Night of Letters."
"I'm the student council president, and I'm putting together the program."
"We want the top students to read something."
From my hiding spot, I saw half his face: the gelled hair, the polished smile, the council blazer.
My ex.
Two years of dating.
And the "sick" label he'd slapped on me one day in a faculty chat when I told him I was leaving him.
"Send me the list," Teodoro said. "I'll get back to you tomorrow."
"Perfect, prof. By the way..."
Bruno craned his neck, trying to peek into the office.
"...have you happened to see Mayte Arosemena? I heard she was coming to talk to you."
"I haven't seen her."
"That's weird."
"Good afternoon, Bruno."
He closed the door.
He waited ten seconds with his forehead pressed against the wood.
"Come out," he said in a low voice.
I came out.
We looked at each other in silence.
"I have to go," I said.
"Yes."
"I'll take..."
I grabbed the notebook that had fallen to the floor, and next to me I found a book from the shelf.
Pedro Páramo, an old edition, with pencil annotations.
"Can I borrow it?" I said.
"Mayte..."
"I'll return it tomorrow."
He looked at me for three eternal seconds.
"No," he said. "Today. At my place. At eight."
And he scribbled an address in the margin of a page, in his firm handwriting.
Casco Viejo. Third Street.
Teodoro's house was old, two stories, with wrought-iron balconies and a green wooden door.
It smelled of wood and books.
He opened the door himself, shirt untucked and wearing a kitchen apron.
"Come in."
"I came to return the book."
"I can see that."
We stood looking at each other in the entryway, the book between us.
"I have soup on the stove," he said. "Have you eaten?"
"No."
"Then come."
He led me to the kitchen, a spacious room with red-and-white hydraulic tiles, a marble countertop, and windows facing the courtyard.
A pot was steaming on the burner.
I sat on a stool, and he stirred the soup, his back to me.
"I told you we had to stop," he said.
"Yes."
"And you're in my kitchen."
"Yes."
"This is a mistake."
"I know."
He set the spoon down on the burner and turned around.
"I don't know how to do this," he confessed. "With someone I look at from the podium every Monday."
I got up, walked over to him, and placed my hands on his chest.
"Once," I said.
"Once?"
"Tonight. One more time. And then you decide."
"Mayte."
"And I'll obey."
I saw him hesitate.
Then he grabbed me by the waist and sat me on the marble countertop.
Cold against the backs of my thighs.
"Once," he repeated.
"Once."
He kissed me.
It was a slow, deep kiss, without the urgency of the office.
A kiss from a man who'd had time to think.
My hands unbuttoned his apron, his shirt.
His hands took off my blouse, and my bra, and left my breasts bare.
He gazed at me with a sacred attention.
"So beautiful," he whispered. "And what a fool I was."
"Why a fool?"
"For not knowing it sooner."
He lowered his mouth to my chest.
He licked it slowly, and sucked it, and bit my nipple with a softness that made me arch my back.
I moaned.
My hand sank into his hair.
"Lower," I whispered.
"Lower?"
"Doctor."
He lifted his head.
His eyes gleamed with a flash I recognized instantly.
"Patient," he said.
He hiked my skirt up to my waist.
He slid my underwear down my legs, slowly, and left it on the cold burner.
He knelt on the tiled floor.
He spread my legs with his hands.
First he kissed my thighs, one and then the other, working his way up slowly.
Then he ran his tongue over my sex, from bottom to top.
A long, flat, hot lick.
"Oh my God," I said.
"There's no God in this kitchen."
I smiled, eyes closed.
He ate me with infinite patience, his tongue curling around my clit, tasting me, playing with me.
Each moan from me drew a growl from him, and the vibrations of his voice traveled up my spine.
He slid two fingers inside me and curled them.
I shuddered.
"There," I moaned. "There, there."
"Here."
"Don't stop."
"Never."
We'd said those words at the clinic, when we had no faces.
And now we repeated them with names, under a yellow bulb, in a kitchen that smelled of soup.
I came with a long cry, clutching his hair, my legs pressed tight against his shoulders.
He didn't stop until I stopped trembling.
He straightened up slowly, his beard glistening.
He wiped my cheek with his thumb, tenderly.
He kissed my mouth, and I tasted myself.
"Once," he said.
"Once."
"That one's already done."
"The rest are still to come."
"I didn't say that."
"You don't need to say it."
He laughed against my neck.
And through the courtyard door, from the darkness, my phone started ringing.
I pulled it out of my bag, my pulse racing.
The screen read: "Grandma."
"Answer it," he said. "It's late."
"Yes, Grandma."
"Mayte, my girl, where are you? It's ten o'clock."
"At a friend's house, Grandma. Studying."
"Good, good. Don't stay up too late."
I hung up.
Teodoro was looking at me with a half smile.
"Studying," he repeated.
"Literature."
"I can see that."
He lifted me off the counter and straightened my skirt.
But when he took my face in his hands, his expression was serious.
"One more time, Mayte," he said. "One. And then it's over."
"Liar."
← Chapter 2 · All chapters · Chapter 4 →
Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend