Which is why I’m not inviting Brook to the club. No one is getting their eyes on her beautiful pussy...unless it got her off. Then I’d consider it.
Maybe.
When did I stop sharing?
Multiple lovers is a kink of mine. I don’t cross swords, as they say, but when the girl is sucking off another guy and I’m sinking deep inside her—or vice versa—you bet that makes my cock turn to granite.
I let my mind imagine Brook sucking off Killian or Zayne. No. It’s a hard no.
Punnotintended.
So what the hell does that mean?
My phone rings.
I pull it out of my pocket and answer without looking at the screen. Few people have this number, so whoever it is, I want totalk to. Plus, I’m glad for the distraction. I don’t like the image of her mouth around any other cock but mine.
“Hola, darling.”
Shit. Mama!
Think about baseball.
“Hey Mama. Everything okay?” I walk back toward the exit. There’s something about being inside the club when I’m talking to her that feels wrong.
Even if it is outside open hours.
I cross over to the golf course main building and down the hall while we talk and step into my office. One of them anyway.
“Yes, but I haven’t seen you for over a week, so I’m checking in on you,” Sofia replies.
“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” I reply. “I’ll pop by tonight.”
“It’s okay. I...I heard about thatbastardoin the news. You okay, baby?”
I close my eyes and soak in her love and caring tone. I was hoping Mama wouldn’t hear about it. Which is dumb. She likes being on Facebook, so it was going to reach her, eventually. If I have my way, it will blow up and the whole world will know. So it was inevitable.
I should have warned her, but was hoping I could do it in person.
“I am. You?”
“Psst, it’s not about me.”
Yes, it is, and she knows it. We were both impacted by the evil inside him. She lost her job and me. Not to be narcissistic about it, but she loved me. And I returned that love.
I know she’s protected me from the full truth of what happened to her after leaving my father’s employment. It took her months to find a new position, and it wasn’t as lucrative—I use that word lightly—as it was working with us.
She struggled, from what I know, and I wonder if that’s why she got married. Despite the fact that he died ten years after their first of three kids was born, she never talks about him. I think he was cruel to her, but she won’t talk about it, and I think if I knew the details, I’d dig up his fucking grave and piss in it.
The stress has impacted her health. She’s not even sixty yet, and the doctor is warning her to take measures to look after her heart. Meditate. Exercise. Make improvements in her diet. Take these pills.
She takes the pills.
Sometimes.
I sit at my desk and tap my keyboard, making my screen come to life. It’s where I left it, on Brook’s podcast. Her stunning face staring back at me, frozen.
I fucking miss her.
