Free Hard by Kathryn Thomas

frustration and anger that stirred inside of her. As she thumbed through her mail she came across a brochure from the villa in Italy where she and Terry would be staying on their honeymoon. She had been receiving them for months, but as she stared at it an impotent rage came over her.
     
    I don’t want to go to fucking Italy! I don’t want to get fucking married! I don’t want to be Mrs. Terry fucking Lewis! I hate my fucking life! She threw the mail across the room, an envelope offering her another credit card careening off a lamp shade. She wanted to scream in frustration, to rage against the world and herself for what she had done. She created this mess, and she knew it, but she didn’t know how to get out of it.
     
    She should call off the wedding, but her parents would be devastated, doubly so after they found out she had been having an affair through the entire engagement. They were good, upstanding people, unselfish and kind. They wouldn’t understand how she could throw away everything, the love of a good man, a man they admired and respected, for Stiles, a tattoo artist and a member of the Black Aces Motorcycle Club. She was certain if they ever learned the Aces secret, they wouldn’t hesitate to report them to the police. They would never accept him and she would be forced to choose between her family and the man she loved.
     
    But that paled in comparison to what she would do to Terry. She had started seeing Stiles before Terry proposed and while Stiles had offered to back away, she hadn’t wanted him to. For ten months she had all but cuckolded Terry, having sex with Stiles while still sleeping with him.
     
    I’m such a fucking whore! she raged silently as she stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door. On the dresser was a picture of her and Terry, a wine glass in their hands as they smiled at the camera. It was taken the previous Christmas at the hospital staff party, the event where Terry had announced their engagement to his coworkers to much cheering and congratulations. And yet, less than seventy-two hours later, Stiles was balls deep inside her as she shared his bed. He was nothing but a fuck then, something they both understood, but over time he had stolen her heart.
     
    Something had changed within her after their weekend in the mountains. It was there that she had first seen him as more than a hard cock, and she liked what she saw. She saw him as the intelligent, thoughtful, man that he was, treating her with the same respect that Terry did when in public, but setting her passions ablaze at night in the privacy of their bedroom.
     
    She picked up the picture, intending to smash it against the wall, but finally sat it back in place and sat on her bed. She gasped, trying to hold her tears, and then gasped again, losing the battle with her emotions. She sat for a long time, weeping into her hands. I’m so fucked up, she moaned to herself as she sobbed. I don’t know what to do!
     
    Eventually her tears stopped and she felt dazed, as if she were someone else, and she sat, staring at nothing, her thoughts quiet. She couldn’t give up Stiles for Terry. She knew it wasn’t fair, but she knew that every time Terry touched her, she would think of Stiles and resent Terry for what she had left behind. She was already fantasying that it was Stiles’s touch she felt when she was making love to Terry. She also worried that what she was feeling was nothing more than a case of the nerves, and after she was married and settled, she would feel differently. Unbeknownst to her parents, she had always been something of a party girl, always eager for the next sex partner. Stiles had kept her interest longer than anyone but she wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him, too. If she were to break off the marriage with Terry, and Stiles became tired of her, or she of him, she would have nothing except a blackened reputation to show for it.
     
    She fell backwards onto the bed, feeling the tears