Long Awaited Reunion

Julie and George sat at their breakfast table. The house was unusually quiet, a rare moment of tranquility gifted by Lily and Tim's three days long school field trip.

"George," Julie mused, cradling her coffee cup in her hands, "can you recall when we last had the house to ourselves like this?"

He chuckled in response, his eyes still scanning the newspaper before him. "Feels like another lifetime ago."

Julie flashed a faint smile. He couldn’t have picked better words to describe their current situation. The shift in their lives felt like they were living in a whole different lifetime. But perhaps there was an opportunity to reconnect today.

However, their peaceful morning was punctuated by the sudden ring of George's phone. He answered swiftly, his voice growing more animated with each passing second. Julie watched him from across the table, curiosity stirring within her as he ended the call.

"Jules, you won't believe this," he said, his eyes sparkling. "I just got a call from some unknown publisher. They're offering me a deal that, well, seems too good to be true. Their only demand is that I meet with them today, cause they’re seriously considering signing a deal with me after the success of my last book. Can you believe it?"

"Wow… finally some good news! That's amazing!" Julie replied. “You have to go to the meeting right away?”

"If I want to be there on time I have to. Apparently, I'll be away for most of the day," George informed her, as he was buttoning up his shirt. "You'll have the house to yourself. Enjoy some quiet time."

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew that with George gone, she'd be left alone to her treacherous desires.

Before George left, he paused and gave her a long look. "You know... I have a weird feeling that this might be it, Jules. I’ll check and call you as soon as I get some info," he murmured with a knowing smile on his face. He leaned down and gave Julie a tender kiss on her forehead. “We’ve got this,” he added and with that, he was gone, leaving Julie alone with her thoughts.

The moment George's car disappeared down the driveway, Julie felt her breath catch in her throat. She clutched her phone tightly as it vibrated in her hand, signaling a new message. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the sender - Mark.

"Hey Julie," the message popped up, "I’ve been thinking past couple of weeks and how I fucked up big time. I hate how we parted ways and I'd really like to say sorry face-to-face if you're free today. I hope you're holding up alright and that any hard feelings have cooled off a bit. Mark"

Her head spun with shock and conflicting emotions, the timing couldn’t be just a coincidence. Her trembling fingers were already typing out a response. "Mark, I can't promise anything, but... I'm willing to meet and settle things between us."

"Perfect," Mark replied almost instantly. "I’m in your town today, how about we meet in a hotel downtown?"

She hesitated, considering her options, before proposing an alternative - a motel her former colleagues used to meet up with their lovers. "No, that hotel is too public. I know a motel nearby. It's really discreet. I’ll send you the address."

"Sounds good," he agreed. "See you there."

"Oh and bring along some cigarettes. I really need a smoke. And maybe that red wine from the hotel… I liked it," she added. As she hit send, her phone fell out her fingers as her entire body shook with anticipation and dread.

One last, final time, she told herself.

---

Julie’s heart pounded in her chest as she perched on the edge of the motel bed, a chaotic mixture of fear and anticipation swirling within her. She knew this encounter with Mark was a defining moment; she had to see it through—for her family, for herself. She had to confront him.

The knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. She took a steadying breath, then rose, her legs feeling heavier than she’d expected. As she opened the door, Mark’s piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, his entire presence exuding that infuriating confidence that had once drawn her in.

"Julie," he said softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “I’m so happy to see you again. You look beautiful as ever.”

"Thanks," she mumbled, casting her gaze down, avoiding his eyes as if they were fire.

There it was, that familiar pull—an urge to meet his intense gaze, to let herself be swept up in the magnetic command of his presence. In a matter of seconds, the room seemed to shrink, the air between them thickening, and her pulse quickened against her will. She hated that he still had this effect on her, hated that his mere presence could still make her feel so exposed, so disarmed.

Mark took a step closer, lifting her chin gently so she had **** but to meet his gaze. “I'm really sorry for hurting you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety. “That was never my intention. I don’t regret what happened between us, but the way I manipulated you was… truly deplorable. I hope you can forgive me… it would mean a lot.”

As his words washed over her, Julie felt the weight of his gaze settle over her, the way his eyes seemed to strip away her defenses, leaving her feeling both **** and desired. Her heart pounded harder, an uncomfortable heat rising in her chest. This was the moment she’d rehearsed over and over in her mind—she was supposed to confront him, to stay sharp, to outwit him. But under his intense stare, every planned response seemed to evaporate, leaving her tongue-tied and trembling.

Instead of pushing him away, her body betrayed her. She nodded softly, telling herself it was all part of the charade, and allowed herself to be drawn into his kiss. The moment his lips met hers, a dangerous familiarity flooded her senses. His mouth was warm, persuasive, and her mind screamed at her to pull back, to resist—but somehow, her body leaned into him instead, as if some buried part of her still craved the thrill, the reckless abandon he once offered. Their tongues met, and her mind warred with the conflicting sensations of longing and dread.

Mark’s hands slid over her, claiming her body as though he still owned it, igniting sparks along every nerve. For a fleeting second, she felt herself melting into him, surrendering to the deceptive comfort he offered. She couldn’t deny the unsettling truth—some small part of her didn’t want to stop.

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, Julie broke away from him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "I—I'm sorry," she stammered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm just... too nervous. I can’t-"

Mark smiled gently, his hand still cupping her face. "It's okay," he murmured. "We don't have to rush anything. We have all day to ourselves."

The tension in the motel room pressed in on her, her skin tingling under the weight of his gaze. She struggled to keep her composure, her breathing uneven as she reminded herself that she was here with a purpose—but that purpose now seemed trivial with every second she spent in his presence.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Mark beamed as he pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "This should help you relax."

Julie's eyes widened with anticipation, her fingers trembling with eagerness as she reached for the pack. It had been two long weeks since she had one of these and the craving had grown into a **** need. She tore open the foil without hesitation, eager to satisfy her longing.

She slid a cigarette between her lips, the familiar scent of fresh tobacco sending a shiver down her spin. With a flick of her lighter, she drew in her first lungful of smoke, the sensation of the nicotine rush hitting her like pure heroin. Her body quivered with pleasure as she exhaled, a low moan escaping her throat.

"Feeling better?" Mark asked, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he took a seat beside her on the couch.

"You can’t even imagine…" Julie replied, her voice breathy and husky as she took another drag. In that moment, even the most intense orgasms paled in comparison to the overwhelming sense of satisfaction she felt.

Mark produced a bottle of red wine, uncorking it with a practiced ease. He poured a generous amount into a glass and handed it to her. "I didn’t forget the wine you asked for. It pairs perfectly with a cigarette, doesn’t it?"

Julie hesitated for a moment, she knew the wine was **** - it had to be - but if she wanted to see this through, she needed to drink it.

"Go on," Mark urged, his eyes never leaving hers.

With a shaky hand, Julie brought the glass to her lips and took a few large sips, feeling the warmth of the liquid spread throughout her body. A strange sense of calm washed over her as she took another drag from her cigarette, the combined effects of the nicotine and the wine making her head spin.

"Already in heaven?" Mark asked, his voice a low purr as he leaned in closer.

"Almost," Julie whispered, her heart pounding harder than ever. As she looked into his eyes, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt mixed with desire, her body aching for his touch even as her conscience screamed at her to resist.

Mark caressed Julie's cheek and hair, his touch gentle yet possessive. "You're absolutely gorgeous when you're relaxed like this, you know that?" he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Leaning into him, she exhaled a thick, curling stream of smoke, the haze around them mirroring the blissful haze settling over her senses. For the moment, the tension between them seemed to melt away, and as it did, her mind felt sharp again—almost dangerously so. “You said we had the whole day to ourselves,” she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper. “You couldn’t have known that… unless you made sure George would be away. Right?”

A smug smile spread across Mark’s lips, his gaze dark and steady, never breaking from hers. “You’re a clever girl, Julie.”

The praise sent a rush through her, a pulse of heat that she couldn’t ignore, her curiosity piqued in a way that felt almost forbidden. She let the warmth of his words wash over her, leaning in just a little closer. “And you’re still such a cheeky bastard,” she teased, her lips curling in a mischievous smile. “I’ve been wondering… was that why I lost my job? Did you have something to do with that?”

Mark held her gaze for a beat too long, a flicker of something—guilt, amusement, perhaps both—passing over his face. His silence was answer enough, and a thrilling mix of anger and arousal twisted together in her chest, tightening as she drank him in.

“Unbelievable,” she murmured, the fire in her eyes matching the heat coursing through her veins. “You really stop at nothing, do you?”

“Julie, I—”

“Oh, no, don’t even try,” she cut him off, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “But you know what’s worse than you? Me.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper, her breath hot against his lips. “I guess it turns me on when a man knows exactly how to get what he wants.”

Before he could respond, she captured his mouth in a searing kiss, fierce and unrestrained, her fingers tangling in his hair as if to claim him right back. She felt his surprise melt into eagerness, his hands roaming over her with the same possessive intensity she remembered all too well. A low, needy groan escaped his lips, and she reveled in the way his body responded to her touch, his usual control unraveling.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathing hard, Julie looked up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes, her voice laced with playful accusation. “You really wanted me to lose my job… just so I could be part of your twisted little experiment, didn’t you?”

Mark’s lips curled in that maddening smirk, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. “It worked, didn’t it?” he replied, a hint of triumph in his tone.

She chuckled, running her fingers slowly through his hair, letting the strands slide between her fingers like silk. “You’re dangerous, Mark. And I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make you… kinda hot.”

His arms tightened around her, drawing her flush against him, his mouth grazing her ear as he whispered, “I’m only dangerous when it comes to you.” His lips trailed down the side of her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

A shiver ran down her spine, her body instinctively tilting her head back, exposing more of her neck to his touch. The wine, the smoke, the raw presence of him—it all left her teetering on the edge, lost in the sheer, reckless thrill of it. Her skin tingled where his lips met her flesh, her pulse quickening as she let herself sink deeper into the intoxicating pull of him, surrendering to the sensations he so effortlessly evoked.

With each touch, each murmur against her skin, he held her captive, and for the first time, she let herself fully give into it, submitting herself to the dangerous allure of his power. She could almost forget, for a moment, that there was anything else driving her—that her heart wasn't racing for reasons beyond the thrill of being consumed by him. But a glint in her eye, hidden and subtle, remained—an ember of intent, waiting to ignite.

Before things escalated further she broke away, her heart pounding in her chest. "One thing I still don't understand," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "How did you manage to orchestrate the entire smoking experiment?"

Mark hesitated, clearly **** to pause their passionate moment and unwilling to talk about the experiment, but Julie was relentless, "How could you conduct the experiment in the name of the National Smoking Research Institute if it was all just a scam?" she demanded.

"Alright," he sighed, pride edging into his tone. "Technically, I did work with an institute by that name, but thing is - it’s based in Peru. Legally, I’m therefore in the clear—people just don’t read the fine print these days."

Julie's mind raced, caught between fury and the undeniable pulse of lust rising within her. She knew she should feel outraged—betrayed, even. But all she could think about was the intoxicating hold Mark had on her, the dangerous thrill of surrendering to his control. The dose in the drink must have been stronger than before...

Mark's lips trailed a burning path from her cheek to her ear, his breath hot against her sensitive skin as he whispered tender words of praise. Julie shuddered at the sensation, the cigarette between her fingers forgotten for a moment as she tilted her head back, offering her neck to his insistent mouth. The combined effects of nicotine, ****, and the **** coursing through her system intensified her desire, making it impossible to resist him.

"Mark," she breathed, her voice unsteady. "Why do I feel so... completely relaxed all of a sudden?" She attempted to sound casual, but there was an underlying tremor in her voice that betrayed her growing curiosity.

He paused, his lips barely brushing her collarbone. "What do you mean?"

"This wine..." she said, trying to distract herself from the fire that raged inside her. "It's not just wine, is it? What did you put in it?" She feigned concern, adding, "I don't want to have an allergic reaction or something."

Mark chuckled, his warm breath fanning across her neck. "You're not allergic to it, Julie.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause you've had it before."

"I-I did?" she asked as she slightly moved away from his lips. "So what is it then?"

He hesitated for a moment before finally admitting, "It’s really nothing, Julie. I just added some herb from South America, called Voluta Solanum. It helps to negate certain fears and reservations, making you bold enough to do what you truly desire. It’s effects have been discovered just recently." He paused, studying her face for any sign of resistance. "Do you like how it makes you feel?"

Julie swallowed hard, torn between her loyalty to George and the undeniable pull of Mark's influence. "I… I do," she whispered, almost ashamed of her own honesty. "So it was in my drinks at the hotel too?"

He smirked and replied, "Just a touch," before leaning in to kiss her with fervent desire. Julie couldn't resist, her longing for more than just a kiss consuming her body. Mark could sense her need as his hand traced along her inner thighs. She imagined herself opening up to him willingly, craving the intense pleasure she knew he could give her. The thought was irresistible, and her body ached for it desperately.

But not this time.

She mustered all the willpower and broke away again from his insistent kiss, her eyes glazed over with a newfound confidence.

"Mark… I have to thank you for explaining everything," she said, her voice sultry but firm. She took one final drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. "Tell me, did the other girls in your little experiment react like I did?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual.

Mark furrowed his brow, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What's with all the questions, Julie?"

She leaned in closer, locking her gaze onto his. "Well, you already told me more than needed, I guess. You certainly helped a lot being so straightforward.”

“Uhm… what are you talking about, Julie?”

“You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you? You once told me during the experiment that passions either set you free or they destroy you. Remember? Well, they nearly destroyed my life.” She smiled, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “So I made sure they would completely ruin yours.”

Mark blinked, disoriented. Her behaviour, her confidence—it didn’t add up. Had he overdosed her? he wondered, paranoia creeping in.

"You know, Mark," she said, a sly smile curving her lips, "you're way too overconfident... and not nearly as observant as you think you are." His brows furrowed as he tried to decode her words, frustration flickering in his eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, annoyed.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Oh, just that there’s little camera somewhere in the room," she said nonchalantly, gesturing at the space around her. "It's been recording our entire conversation."

"Wha- Is this some kind of joke?" he spluttered, anger rising in his chest. But when he met Julie's triumphant gaze, he knew she wasn't playing games.

"Tell me, does it feel good to be on the other side for once?" she taunted, her voice dripping with malice. "Being played isn’t that great, huh?”

Mark’s face twisted with fury as he shot up from the sofa, his eyes wild, darting around the room for any sign of the hidden camera. "Fucking bitch… you-you set me up! After everything I gave you, this is how you repay me?"

Julie couldn't help but let out a smug laugh as she watched him pace around frantically, oddly reminding her of her husband's behavior just two weeks prior. How the roles have reversed now.

Fueled by **** and ****, she relished in her sense of victory and couldn't resist the temptation to taunt him a bit more. "Mark," she asked with a wicked smile, "One final question, last one, I promise. Do you think you'll be any good at sucking dicks in prison?"

Hearing that, Mark snapped. He leaped on her, his fingers grabbing her throat.

But Julie just laughed at him mockingly, still enjoying the power she held over him. As his fingers dug into her flesh, she reveled in the knowledge that she had turned the tables on him, exposing his manipulative schemes for all to see.

"That’s it, Mark. Incriminate yourself a bit more," she whispered menacingly, relishing the way his eyes filled with fear and betrayal, but soon fury overtook him.

His grip tightened, his face twisted with a desperation that bordered on madness. “You think you’ve outsmarted me, you stupid bitch? I’ll find that camera… and there won’t be any evidence left.”

Julie struggled to breathe under his relentless grip, her vision blurring as she fought for air. Yet, bizarrely, she felt no fear. The **** coursing through her veins must have dulled her panic, leaving her in a surreal calm even as her life hung by a thread.

"Is… that… all… you've got?" she managed to gasp.

Mark's eyes widened in disbelief, her defiance shocking him. He squeezed her slender neck with all his might but before he could do any real damage, the doors slammed open with a deafening crash.

It was George.

"Get your hands off my wife!" George roared as he tore Mark away, the **** of his grip sending them both sprawling to the floor. Julie gasped for air, coughing as she scrambled back, while George pinned Mark down, his eyes blazing with protective rage.

"You piece of shit!” George shouted, landing blow after vicious blow on Mark's face. “What did you do to her? Huh? I'll make you sorry you ever touched her, you fucking psycho!" Blood splattered across the floor, painting a gruesome picture of retribution.

"George, stop!" Connor called out as he hurried into the room. He quickly pulled George away from Mark, handcuffing the bloodied man as he writhed on the floor. He joined George, who was now checking on Julie.

"Julie! Are you okay?" George asked.

Julie nodded, still struggling to catch her breath. "I'm okay," she whispered, shock settling in as the adrenaline began to fade.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner, I-I didn’t expect he would get so aggressive," George said, his voice thick with emotion. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “You were so brave, Julie. It’s over now, we’ve got him."

"I can’t believe it worked… I couldn’t have done it without you, George," Julie whispered, tears streaming down her face as she clung to her husband.

"Yeah, who gives a damn about the cop who did all the work," Connor joked with a half-smile. George, still trembling with adrenaline, pulled him into a heartfelt hug. "Thanks, man. I owe you," he murmured, his gratitude genuine.

"Good job, Julie. Your act was superb," Connor said, his voice firm yet comforting. "I told you, George, our plan would work."

Connor then retrieved the hidden camera, took the wine bottle and cigarettes as evidence and hauled Mark to his feet, the handcuffs biting into the psychologist's wrists.

“You think this over, bitch? You don’t know who you’re dealing with! I’m going to destroy your fucking life…” Mark spat at Julie.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Hey, moron. You want me to turn the camera back on? Shut the fuck up!" He gave Mark a shove towards the door.

“And you…” Mark turned to George. “Whenever you get to fuck that whore of yours, remember - she’ll always be thinking of me…” The rest wasn’t audible as the door slammed behind him, but Julie’s face flushed crimson.

"What a nutjob… it’s over now," George said, running a soothing hand down her back. "We did it."

Sobs wracked her body, the tears she'd been holding back finally breaking free. George wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, providing a much-needed anchor in the storm of emotions.

"Jules... I believed you all this time, you know that," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "But after seeing what just happened, after seeing what a lunatic he is, it’s obvious… you weren’t yourself."

Julie continued to cry, and George couldn't tell if they were tears of relief or something deeper.

He hugged her tightly, letting her weep into his chest. “Hey there... Everything is behind us. We can try to move forward, to find our way back…”

Julie clung to him, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as she tried to steady herself. “No, George… don’t you see? We can’t go back. The life we had, the way things used to be… it’s gone.”

“What do you mean?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as though he feared her answer.

“I…” She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I’m not the same person I was. I don’t know if I’ll ever be that person again.”

George pulled back, his face shadowed with worry. “Julie… you’re still you. You’re still the woman I fell in love with.”

She looked away, a pained smile on her lips. “Maybe… but I don’t feel like her. I lost something in that hotel, George. And part of me… part of me found something else.” She took a shuddering breath. “Connor praised my acting skills, but the truth is… I didn’t need to act. Not as much as I should’ve. And you had to watch me kiss him… Oh God, George, I…”

George was silent for a moment, processing her words, then took her hands in his, meeting her gaze. "Jules, watching you kiss him was… painful, to say the least, but necessary. It was the only way to let his guard down. And speaking of your changes… You were manipulated and **** with some new shit for weeks. No one knows what the side effects are but I bet it's only natural that it would change you somehow. It’s going to take time, but I’m here for you. Whatever it takes, we’ll get through this together. Therapy, whatever you need… we’ll make it right.”

A faint, fragile smile crept onto her face. "I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you, George. Most men would have run a mile… and I wouldn’t have blamed them."

He squeezed her hands, his eyes unwavering. "I’m not most men. I’m your husband. And as long as you need me, I’m not going anywhere. Just... no more weird experiments, ok?"

---

They sat in silence for a while, wrapped in the dim glow of the motel room, both understanding that the conclusion of the Mark situation brought the beginning of a long, uncertain journey for them.

After a moment, Julie looked up, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "You never told how you figured out your meeting was bogus? That it was all part of Mark's twisted plan?"

"It was just a hunch at first, so I asked Connor and he traced the call. It came from a number belonging to Dr. Graham—Mark’s associate. Once I knew that, we set up the camera here and waited for you two to meet, just as we planned."

A shiver ran down Julie's spine as she processed the extent of George’s preparation, his quiet determination to protect her. She reached out, brushing her lips against his cheek. “George, I don’t know how to thank you for everything you did.”

The warmth of her breath against his skin sent a surge through him. Her hand moved down his chest, lingering, her fingers trailing gently. She leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper. “Let me repay you… I want to make things right.”

George felt the pull, the longing in her touch, but he stopped her, gently taking her hand and holding it still. “Julie… we can’t. Not like this.”

Her gaze met his, filled with a mixture of confusion and yearning. "But I need this, George. I need to feel close to you again."

He held her face in his hands, his voice soft but firm. “I know, Jules. But right now, you’re still under the influence and I can't let you do something you might regret later. I’m not Mark. We need time. Time to heal, to find each other again—slowly, without some crazy ****.”

She closed her eyes, nodding, understanding the unspoken wisdom in his words. "You’re right," she murmured, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that seemed almost childlike. “I’m sorry… I probably just embarrassed myself, didn’t I?”

“It’s alright,” he reassured her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I know you’re not yourself right now. Come here, let’s just rest.”

As George held her close, Julie felt a strange, fragile relief washing over her. She knew the road ahead would be anything but easy; Mark’s damage ran deep, reshaping parts of her she barely understood. But as she nestled into George’s embrace, she felt a flicker of hope—that together, maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild from the ruins, piece by fragile piece.