Seize the Night - Sex Stories

Seize the Night

... said more than enough last time we were together."

"Amie, I'm sorry." Russ took a sideways step, so he was directly in my line of vision. He was also blocking the damn door. "I hate the way things ended between us."

I didn't trust myself to speak. Instead, I lifted my glass to my lips and took a sip. Like me, Russ wore jeans and a T-shirt. I could tell his wavy brown hair had been cut recently. His blue eyes were entreating as they met mine. "I'm surprised you showed up here tonight," I finally said. Though I felt my face pulling into an ugly sneer, I was powerless to stop it. "I thought you decided you were too good to slum around with lowlifes like us."

"That's not fair, and you know it!" he shot back. "Christ, I was only trying to give you some advice, and you took it all wrong!"

I snorted at that. For months, Russ and I had dated. We'd laughed at each other's silly jokes and walked along city streets holding hands. We spent our nights together and fucked like rabbits. And we confided in each other, sharing all our wild dreams we knew would never come true. I'd fallen in love with him. I thought he loved me. And then he got a new job. He was so excited, going on about how great it was for his career. At first, I'd shared in his excitement, because I knew how much the job meant to him.

But then he began to change. It started with his comments about my lack of ambition. "Don't you want to go back to school?" he asked. "You don't plan to wait tables for the ...

... rest of your life, do you?" I tried to overlook his "advice" even as I sensed us growing further apart. At twenty-two, I was only six years younger than Russ, but I started feeling like I was dating someone my dad's age.

Our relationship ended the night Erika and I decided to get matching tattoos. I hadn't mentioned it to Russ beforehand, and when I showed him the fresh ink—a vine of ivy wrapped delicately around my ankle—he gave me a disapproving look. "It's pretty, Amie, but you know it's going to be harder for you to get a decent job if you're covered in tattoos. You have plenty as it is."

At that moment, I understood what people meant when they said their blood boiled. Hot fury surged through me as I shouted, "Fuck you, Russ! I've had it with you trying to change me!"

Russ looked shocked at my outburst. "I'm not," he insisted.

"The hell you're not!" I pointed an accusing finger at him. "You constantly criticize my job, and my 'life choices,' and now you have a problem with my tattoos? Why the fuck did you want to get involved with me in the first place?" As angry as I was, I couldn't hide the fact that I was deeply hurt. Tears pooled in my throat, preventing me from saying another word.

Russ reached for me, but I jerked away. "Amie, I love you. I just want what's best for you."

I shook my head. "I'm sick of trying to live up to your expectations!" I hated myself for crying in front of him. It felt like weakness on my part. "You know what?" I went on. ...