By the time my back hits his mattress, all thoughts of his birthday and the unopened present sitting in the living room fly right out the window. I don’t care that we’re skipping straight to the main course. I don’t even care that he hasn’t told me he missed me. It’s his birthday. He can do this any way hewants.
So he didn’t call me much while he was away. I know work has kept him busy. He owns property all over Texas and commutes often between Dallas and Austin to manage a new housing development he and his family are building. I love that he’s motivated and on top of his shit. At least one of usis.
Jamie peels off his t-shirt, putting those gorgeous muscles on display. A sigh escapes me as he wedges himself between my thighs. His rough jeans scrape my skin, but I don’tcare.
In the two point two seconds we’ve been in his bedroom, he’s managed to strip me of most of my clothes, except for my black lace bra and thong, which he eyes appreciatively before he presses himself againstme.
“Missed you, sugar plum,” he whispers against myneck.
Warm fuzzies fill my chest.Of course he missed me.I knew hedid.
The moment his lips touch mine, we’re in a frenzy to get closer, and the Jamie who makes me come undone is back. His hand fists my hair, and he’s sucking on my neck and grinding his cock againstme.
I’m lost in a haze of lust until something slams down the hall.Was… was that the frontdoor?
His whole body goesrigid.
“Jamie!” a female voice yells out. “I’m home,baby!”
It’s my turn to frown, especially when I see the expression on hisface.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Get up. Put your shit on.” He leaps off the bed like an Olympic runner at the sound of the starting gun and tosses my shorts and tank top in myface.
I’m still processing what’s happening when he closes the bedroom door, but yells, “I’m coming. Be there in asec!”
“Who is that?” I didn’t hear the doorbell, and I doubt a contractor would waltz in likethat.
Plus, it’s awoman.
He ignores me and yanks on his t-shirt.
With dread slicing through my veins, I open and close my mouth like a beached fish. “Are you…are you seeing someone else?”Holy shit. Is he dating that other waitress I saw him talking to last month? Is he cheating onme?
He buttons his jeans and motions for me to move off the bed. I stand up and slide on my shorts, my mouth still agape as I watch him smooth down the comforter. “Seriously, Jamie. Are you fucking someoneelse?”
Pushing his hands through his hair, he growls, “Not now, Tori. Just fucking getdressed.”
I wrestle with my tank top. “Please tell me that’s a relative in the other room, and that you’re not screwing around behind my back,” I plead, my voice low. Why I whisper, I have no clue. If he’s cheating on me, I should be screaming in his face and breaking out thecrazy.
Footsteps sound down the hall, and a look of panic registers in hiseyes.
And then he’s pushing me back along the far end of theroom.
Back behind thedresser.
Back behind the tealottoman.
All the way back to the walk-in closet, where he shoves me into the shadows and tells me towait.
“What’s going on?” I ask, horrified. Why is he hiding me in the fuckingcloset?
His eyes clench, and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, okay? Just wait here and be quiet. I’ll explain everything later.Pleasedo this for me. I promise to make it up toyou.”
But I don’t have time to respond before he shuts the closet door in my face just seconds before that woman squeals with delight and launches herself in his arms. How can I tell? Because he slammed the closet so hard the sliding door bounced open, and there’s a one-inchgap.
And I can seeeverything. Her gorgeous black hair and designer clothes. Her lithe body and perfect tan. Those expensive black and red heels with the French name I can’tpronounce.
Then the kissing starts. She’s moaning and telling him how much she missed him. Telling him how she never wants to spend that much time apart again. Saying how much she loves their new house. How she’s going to make it theirhome.
