Before I'd become a published author myself, I relied on the access of imagination laid out by other authors who I adored to read. The reckless number of hours I'd spent flickering through a book, bending its spine as I tucked myself on the ledge of my window, wondering when on earth my romance would be as dreamy as described. And then I met Nick, we were smitten the instance we set eyes on each other. He was my first love. My first inspiration when I finally put pen to paper. I didn't think it was possible. After all, the men I had read about, who were charming, romantic and ultimately a dream, had set a high bar. An expectation I didn't think was possible. And then when Nick did arrive in the scene, I didn't need to rely on those fantasies no longer. I had the real thing. So, when writing came along, I had all I needed to weave and tweak to suit an audience who desired romance. And now, I had slept with another guy. Something I had a great grudge against. No one liked cheaters. And yet, here I was going against myself, my characters who were all high-moral women. I had never written a romance that involved cheating. And yet, I was, and it wasn't based off some fiction, it was real. I cheated.

So, when Shane had told me I wouldn't be able to fester resistance against him. I knew deep down he was telling the truth. It didn't exactly help that I willingly allowed Shane to lean in towards me and gently caress my lips with the pad of his thumb.

"Rose, you can't resist," he had muttered softly. I had listened to my heart drumming, wanting more as I tried to push those thoughts out. In the end, I had raced away, slammed my front door and exhaled deeply. Tears had threatened in the blink of my eyes as I sought the energy to move off the front door. The front door where Shane had had me pinned against, our lips fighting together and our hands worshipping every inch of our bodies. Stop, stop, I had shaken my head frantically, feeling overwhelmed as I sank to my feet.

And now I sat in the study with a glass of red wine on the desk beside the keyboard and feeling the pounding of my head from the several glasses I had consumed. I felt dazed as I read the words. Read the undeniable attraction bursting out from the several pages.

Elle knew that the next door neighbour was tempting her. She knew she was tempted. That growing urge of connection wouldn't subside even as she thought of her fiancé, Andre. She couldn't cheat but the sexual tension between herself and Andre was just overwhelming for words. Elle wanted him. She wanted to feel his fingertips all over her, hear the sound of her name slip from his tongue and completely fall in surrender to him. Andre was far from her thoughts, he was like a broken memory trying best to hang on. Elle knew it was bad. But she wanted him.

Put one and one together, I thought. It was pathetic. I couldn't allow Nick to see this. It would be too obvious. I had never written something so dark, insane like this. How exasperating it was to know that this was fiction and my reality was not. Elle, what are you doing, I almost said aloud as I clicked off the document, knowing all too well Elle was me. I had saved the document knowing deep down I couldn't find the will to want to part from it. I'm in too deep with this now.

"Rose!" I heard Nick call out as the front door followed with a gentle slam. I got up, turning the monitor off before I met Nick halfway going up the stairs. He was smiling as he took off his brown leather jacket and threw it down the stairs.

"Babe, you're going---"

Before I could even finish my nagging sentence, his lips clashed against mine unexpectedly. It was a struggle to hold onto the banister as his tongue rummaged through my mouth, the passion flourishing through as I stood there, stiff and robotic. Once, he'd pulled back, he clasped my hand and tugged me along. It was obvious. Nick wanted sex. Sex he'd missed out on Sunday. Something I didn't miss, my conscience teased.

I was in no rush as Nick pulled me into the bedroom and began throwing his grey t-shirt over his head, whilst I stood by the door, not moving. He didn't seem to notice my lack of getting undressed, and assumed I wanted him to do that as he went over to me, starkly naked now. Nick began to take my t-shirt off. He was excited as I observed briefly looking down and was muttering senselessly how he wanted me. All of it seemed to wash right over my head. I felt controlled, literally as he guided me towards the bed, climbed on top and kissed my neck. I lay there, blinking barely as I felt whatsoever no spurge of exhilaration. Instead, I was thinking of Shane. Remember, my conscience said pushing images into my mind. Yes, I agreed thinking of how it was him on top of me, his hands all over me and how I felt alive.

Nick was just unfastening my bra, throwing it onto the floor carelessly as I blinked several times confounded by Shane's face suddenly replacing Nick's. I bit down on my lip. Wait, what's going on? There was short movement before without hint, I felt something pushing into me. Shane's face disappeared as I blinked for the fifth time, seeing Nick grunting above me as he dived his hips into me. My fingers gripped his biceps. I begged to feel something. C'mon, I told myself. I tried gasping it came off as forced, not that Nick knew. He was too busy, eyes clenched, fucking my lower half and seeming like he was counting.

Why can't I feel? This isn't right. I love Nick. I love Nick! I closed my eyes, opening them straight after and being re-greeted with Shane's face. This isn't what I asked for, but my complaint stopped as I imagined it was him I was having sex with. It did something. I oozed with carnal desire, holding onto Nick and begging him to quicken the pace.

Nick grunted. "Yes, baby."

I chanted. "Yes, yes."

"Oh, Rose."

"Oh, Ssshane—shittt." I gasped, hoping my quick diversion had worked. Nick didn't stop, he continued until finally he came. His body fell limp on me before he slipped out and flipped onto the side. I was thankful that when I peered over, he was smiling, unaware to the near slip up. Shit, I cursed to myself.

"Man, that never gets old," Nick said, his breathless voice matching the rise of his chest.

I bit my lip as I sat up.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, stroking my lower back.

"Nothing," I lied, smiling sweetly as I pulled my hair into a ponytail. "That was nice," I added quickly knowing 'nothing' wasn't good enough to reassure him. Nick chuckled deeply as he rested his hands on his stomach. "You always used to put your hair up after sex. You'd always tell me then how mad I was. How much of a sex god I was." He poked my thigh.

I attempted another smile.

"I love you, Rose Stanton," he said, breaking my heart further from the guilt.

"I love you too, Nick Stanton," I replied, leaning over as I kissed his wet lips. I swallowed as I pulled back knowing the love I felt for him, was not as it once was. It made me realise me how much I was drawn to Shane. "I should fix us something to eat. It's nearly seven," I announced, getting out the bed as I grabbed the nightgown off the door, covering my nakedness.

"Alright," Nick responded, turning into the pillow as he groaned happily into it. "I might just take a quick nap," he mumbled into it.

I nodded.

Guilt. All guilt as I knew what I wanted. And what I was going to do, tonight.

***

We'd had stir fry that I'd cooked up. Nick was freshly showered, flickering through as his phone as he cursed aloud at the scores of the football. I was sat on the other end of the table, slowly sipping from my glass of ice cold water, shamefully thinking of Shane. My laptop was adjacent to my finished plate, the document open and pending as I continued to add to the story.

I placed my glass down, turning back towards the laptop as I tapped my fingers on the keyboard. Emotions were running through me, helping me devise development towards the characters. Particularly, Elle. She'd already kissed her neighbour. Tick. I mentally thought knowing I had already reached as far as that with Shane.

"Babe," Nick said, alerting me.

"Yeah?" I replied, my fingers continuing to dance across the letters.

"How would you react if I told you I might have to this Wednesday head to a conference meeting in one of the headquarters down south?" he spoke, my eyes refusing to turn away from the screen. I wasn't even sure I was listening properly making him continue. "I would be back Friday morning and in time for the family meal later. It's just they've called me in, again," he explained.

"Babe?" he piped up again after I didn't reply.

"Sure, whatever." I shrugged my shoulders, madly still typing away.

"Are you sure? Because I can or I---"

"Yes," I snapped, stopping my fingers. "Nick, do whatever. It's work. It's important."

Tension grasped us both by the neck as neither of us said a word. Nick was first to break dropping his fork on the plate he'd been playing with. "Rose, I don't understand you. First, you're complaining that you don't see enough of me and when I suggest I can tell them I'm too busy. You blow me off. What's going on? Huh?" he said with frustration.

"Nothing, Nick. I just think you're overreacting right now. If you need to go to a meeting, go. I'm not stopping you," I responded, irksomely backspacing on the keyboard as I messed up a word from the interruption of my track of thoughts.

"Well, I just think that you're not showing---Rose! Will you stop typing for a second and actually look at me!" Nick snapped, dragging my attention towards him. He was a little red in the face from his angered composure. "Will you just actually look at me? Babe, I don't understand why you're showing no compassion right now. I'm asking you if you want me to stay home and you're just not---"

"---Nick," I cut in, sliding my laptop to the side and closing its lid. "I'm looking at you. And I'm telling you it's perfectly fine. I trust you'll be back for the meal Friday. You can stay if you like but Nick you keep telling me you're so close to that second promotion. And you know how it will drag you back if you don't, hm?" I looked at him as I reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Now, please. I'm not mad. I love you, remember? So, go."

He sighed gently as he squeezed in return. "I'm sorry. It's just I care, and I don't want to annoy you and be that husband who leaves his wife as he goes always away. I don't want you to grow old of me, Rose. I'm sorry for getting mad."

"Honey, I could never grow old you," I replied, a little confused whether that was the truth or a lie. In context, I knew I couldn't just throw Nick away, we'd been through so much and I did love and respect him for that but sexually or romantically, there was that problem. I shook my head, as I got out my seat and slipped onto the table before him. Then I leaned in, kissing his lips feeling the ensnaring trap of guilt inflame me as I failed to push it aside. "I love you, babe. Now, stop complaining. You're going and that's final. Now, help me wash the dishes," I said as I tapped the end of his nose playfully.

So much guilt. It was everywhere. Oozing through the walls and the floors. Everywhere.

THANK YOU FOR READING! OUR ROSE IS A BIT OF ANTI-HERO? IF YOU CAN CALL HER THAT! I'M WRITING THIS AND I DO FEEL SORRY FOR NICK. WHAT DO YOU THINK? IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE VOTE, COMMENT AND SHARE! ALSO, PLEASE BE AWARE THAT BOSS UNDERCOVER IS OUT! YOU CAN PURCHASE RIGHT NOW! KINDLE AND PAPERBACK COPIES! TAG ME IF YOU HAVE IT! IT MAKES MY DAY! 

VAMP