How in the space of less than five hours had I made up my mind? How was it that I was now deciding that my relationship with Nick was mendable. Had it just taken a horrible nightmare and sex to fix the pieces back together? Or was I delusional and pitying Nick by attempting to dampen my guilt. Maybe, I'm pretending. Maybe, my relationship with Nick is really damaged and that moment of vulnerability I'd felt last night was nothing more than just exactly that. Who knew? Because I certainly didn't. There must be some truth because I'm staring blankly at the computer screen and fixated on the pending cursor. I feel like I can't write suddenly again. It's as if my motivation, or my desire has been snipped off with a pair of scissors leaving me sitting here like a fool. Something's going on. Surely, thinking about Shane should spur me to address a few more lines. But, nope. Instead, after numerous times of reliving our kiss earlier today, it appears even that cannot challenge me to go full steam ahead and finish the book. Am I not turned on by Shane? Am I broken? Or has my guilt finally gnawed away at me that my desire has been tarnished as part of my punishment?

I groaned, rubbing my tired eyes before frustratingly back-spacing on the keyboard. And how on earth was I going to finish this book when I can't find the will to write? Or better yet, how was I going to tie the loose ends in the end because after-all, this was strictly tied to my own circumstances than loosely inspired. So, what? Does my story have to wait until I make up my mind? I just don't know anymore.

I opted to close down my document and briefly browse upon my social media, answering questions and liking tags. It helped. And there was nothing more I liked than connecting with my readers.

I must have been browsing for some time until I stopped mid-way, my eyes pinpointed to some twitter comment.

@R.Stanton Your romance stories always inspire me. They're always seem so happy and just great. But things aren't so great for me. I feel like I'm being suffocated by my marriage.

The back of my throat felt a little dry as I re-read each word. Suffocated. Was that how I felt? I might say that but then Nick isn't horrid or despicable. He loves me. It's me that's the problem. I couldn't help but feel attached to their comment. Only unlike me, they probably haven't resulted to committing an affair with another man.

I wrote back a quick response. I'm glad my stories are close to your heart. Follow your heart. Do what's best for you. You can't force love.

It seemed a little ironic giving out the exact advice that I needed.

At that moment, I wanted to be honest with somebody. I hated keeping this to myself. I hated that I couldn't confide in Angie considering I'd lied to her face. She probably wouldn't forgive me, or she would be disappointed that I was attempting to fix my problem by cheating. But who else could I tell? My parents would be distraught. I hadn't really got any other close friends. So, in all honesty, I felt completely alone.

I was about to completely switch off my desktop until a thought popped up in my mind. I remembered hearing a while back, discussion of posting your confessions on apps or sites. I didn't give any thought to it back then, but now it seemed more than appropriate. Advice from strangers across the internet. I didn't see any other option.

My fingers typed in ConFESS, a site known to have troubling posts of people admitting their fetishes, dirty secrets and notoriously like my own, affairs. I wasn't fond of the idea, but I was finding it more than necessary.

The options popped up onto the screen. What's your ConFESSion?

I selected martial affair.

Gulp.

Feeling a little paranoid I turned quickly around. No one was there, and I knew Nick was at work, but it still didn't comfort me, nonetheless.

Type your ConFESSion below.

I did, typing quickly, and cautiously glancing behind me as I did so every now and then.

And then I posted. User34?2!

It was more irritating now that I had to wait. Wait for strangers who don't even know me to judge me and become aware of my dirty secret. I sat there for about five minutes refreshing the screen waiting for some notification to pop up, but nothing did. I wanted to all day, but I just couldn't. I closed the browser before re-opening it to clear my history and then switched off the monitor. I exhaled shakily. I'd look later on.

***

I was more than glad when Nick returned back from work that I found myself even more welcomingly than usual. His was the usual open, warm affection as he slid his arms around my waist, and mine was surprisingly similar when I kissed his lips in return. For a second, it seemed like everything was normal. Like the affair I was pursuing didn't exist. It must have been wishful thinking because once Nick reminded me of the child we could have, I immediately distanced my warmth towards him, feeling guilt swarm around me.

"Was your day productive today?" he asked, as he sat down on the sofa in the living room and began to untie his shoe laces from his smart shoe. I leaned against the wall trying as best to push aside those episodes of posting my confession and aligning to some reader who'd I felt more than connected to in some way.

"Yeah," I lied, "the manuscript should be done soon. I'm just trying to tie up the loose ends," I added, which wasn't completely a lie. I was coming to the end, but my problem still faced with how to end it. I wasn't so sure if I wanted my protagonist to end things with her fiancé or end her affair or do neither. That is pretty much the same problem I'm facing. So I guess that's more directed towards me.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear that, babe," he replied cheerfully.

I paused for a second. It was happening again. I was weighing out options in my mind. Perhaps now I could test it again? Do I feel connected to Nick or was it just pity?

Following my instinct, I headed towards him, gently grabbing his hands as I positioned myself onto his lap. Nick's smile only grew further as he caught up to my trick. I leant in and kissed his lips, my hands multi-tasking as I unbuttoned his trousers and rubbed against his manhood. He moaned in my mouth as his hands found their way to my ass which he kneaded within his palms. I wasn't exactly feeling like a roof on fire, but I did feel some sort of sexual appetite. Part of me felt like I forcing it as I hastily pulled down my trousers and knickers, before working on his boxers, and then climbed to let him slide into me, to try to satisfy me. I wasn't sure if I was pretending to enjoy this or if I actually felt ecstasy when I rode forward and back but some noises did leave my lips. Nick was all to occupied to give thought, his hands were invested all-over me. My name left his lips more than once and his breathing was only getting quicker and quicker as I attempted to pick up some pace. I felt him but at the same time I didn't. Nick was sweaty upon his forehead. He soon filled me. I felt the responsibility to moan, at least inspire some passion from myself but it didn't really matter because as soon I slid away, Nick's head was tilted backwards as he swallowed mouthfuls of air.

I began to fasten my trousers as I recomposed myself. Nick wasn't moving an inch yet.

So, did it prove anything? I didn't get to dwell on the thought long as I heard the door bell ring. Nick looked up and shoved his member back into boxers before fastening the buttons. I headed out into the corridor, double checking my state as I passed the mirror above the sideboard. It was funny because I looked like I hadn't just had sex then.

I opened the door, startled to see Shane. But was I more startled that I was consciously looking down to double check remnants weren't hinting at what just happened then. I heard Nick walk up behind me, smiling as he saw Shane at our doorstep.

"Shane," he said, brushing his hands upon his trousers. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" Before he invited him inside. I stepped aside, shamefully looking to the floor as Nick continued the conversation. "How's things going?"

"It's great, thank you. I was hoping to ask a favour from off your wife?" I heard Shane reply, and when I finally did look up, his eyes were locked onto mine. I'm sure I looked guilty at that point. Guilty for what? Nick is after-all my husband, I argued back. But Shane's who you really want, my conscience sneered back.

"Oh, well, Rose. You're up," Nick said with humour.

"A favour?" I cleared my throat as I anxiously rubbed the palms of my hands together.

"Yes," Shane replied, "I have some guests coming to my business' annual ball and I may have slipped to them that I know my neighbour is the one and only Mrs R. Stanton. I was hoping you could attend tonight and entertain them for good business," he explained, a lie I knew could only be his way of hinting at our own entertainment together.

I expected my answer to be yes. But I couldn't help to look towards Nick, hoping he'd chip in and perhaps suggest attending it with me. Was that strange?

"Fans, ey? You should go, Rose. You've been cooped up in the house all day, babe. I would come but I've promised a friend I'd meet them for drinks later," he said, slicing my apparent hope in half.

"I-I guess." I sounded a little defeated.

"Great," Shane responded, "I'll pick you up at seven."

Nick smiled warmly. "Good, right. I need to go make a quick call. Nice seeing you, Shane." He left me alone with him. I could feel him staring at me with only intensity.

"I saw you," he muttered, before hastily turning on his heel and heading out the front door. I felt obliged to follow, trying to keep up with his large strides as I descended down the driveway.

"Shane!" I hissed, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face me. Shane's expression was dark and murderous as met my eyes.

"What do you mean---"

"---I saw you just then through the window. What was that Rose----"

"---You were watching me," I spat, a little horrified on that. The only way you could look into the living room window was to stand on the step and lean to the left to glance through the blinds.

"What was all that about?" he angrily said.

"What do you mean? If you haven't forgotten I'm still married, Shane!" I hissed back, trying to keep my voice down to a minimum. There was no wandering souls about, but it still didn't stop Nick sneaking up on us.

"But why was you so cold then?" he hinted at my reluctance just moments ago.

"B-because, I-I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out all of this," I replied, shaking my head.

"Rose," his voice softened as grabbed my hand and squeezed it against his chest. "It upsets me to see you with him. I don't like it one bit. I'm getting more impatient each time you waste your seconds with him when you should be with me."

"I—I'm sorry," I muttered, feeling a little ashamed to have upset him.

He leant in close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered. "You'll always be mine, Rose."

A shiver shuddered down my back before he pulled back. "I'll pick you up at seven," he said, that infamous grin darkly replacing the frown that was once upon his lips. 

THANK YOU FOR READING! HOPE YOU'VE ENJOYED! PLEASE VOTE, COMMENT AND SHARE! ALSO, BOSS UNDERCOVER PART TWO CAN BE PRE-ORDERED! PLEASE SUPPORT ME! 

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VAMP