I stepped back, snarling at the throb that came when I pulled out of her. It was the only thing I could do to stop myself from confessing that I loved her in a marrow-deep way that had accompanied me around as an endless ache for as long as I could remember, and I had no intention of divorcing her at the end of this year or at any other point. “Roll over,” I said, giving myself a slow stroke. “Get that sweater off. The shorts too.”
She complied, her hair a rose gold mess and her eyes glassy as she fumbled with her clothes. A sliver of doubt sliced through me when I crawled between her legs and sat back on my heels. The idea of jerking off on her body sounded great in the filth library in my head but the reality of it hit differently. It felt like a new level of dirty and degrading, and I didn’t know if I could take that step.
“Show me,” she purred.
Not a single one of my teenage—or thirtysomething—dreams could compare with seeing her spread out before me, stripped bare, soaking wet, and staring up at me like I could do anything to her and she’d thank me for it.
I dragged my hand down my shaft. “What?”
“Show me what it looks like to belong to you.”
I didn’t think about tonight or tomorrow or two weeks from now when we’d deal with the fuckhead ex. I didn’t think about marriage or divorce, or kids or families. I didn’t think about the secrets I kept from Shay or the fact I couldn’t keep them much longer.
I just came all over her belly, cleaned her up with the t-shirt I’d discarded earlier, and held her as she fell asleep.
It was then, with her even breath warm on my bicep and her hair tickling my chest, I whispered, “Love you, wife.”
chaptertwenty-seven
Shay
Students will be able to examine forgotten history and sunken ships.
“I need you sitting for this,”I said to Jaime.
“I’m leaning against the kitchen counter. Is that adequate?” she asked. “If not, we might have to reschedule this chat. I’m slow going today.”
I opened the front door at Thomas House and then shut it behind me. “What’s wrong? What’s going on that you don’t want to video call?” She groaned out a sigh as I settled onto the floor. I’d told Noah I needed to check on something here but I just needed a minute alone. A minute to think.
“I have a UTI. I went to the clinic last night and the meds are kicking in but I can’t move or breathe very deeply right now. I can exist and that’s about it.”
“Oh my god, James. Is someone taking care of you?”
“Yeah, my roommates have been amazing as per usual. Don’t even threaten to come up here. I’m okay. I just need to get through the next twelve hours and then I won’t feel like I fell into a quarry.”
“I’m not sure I know what it means to fall into a quarry.”
“It’s terrible. Don’t try it,” she said. “In other news, I will be taking a sex hiatus for at least two weeks. Probably a month.”
“Is that how this happened?”
She murmured in agreement. “It’s important to pee after sex, doll. Even if you can’t walk or remember your name. Especially then.”
“Good to know.”
“So, what’s going on with you?” she asked. “What do you have for me that would knock me on my ass?”
“The ex messaged me last night.”
“Holy fucking shit, he didwhat?”
I nodded but then realized this wasn’t video. “Yeah. He texted right after Noah and I had this big, emotional talk and he wants—”
“Wait. Wait a minute. What was the big, emotional talk about?”
I shoved my fingers through my hair because I was still processing all the ground we’d covered. Still trying to parse out what was true and what was dirty talk with feelings—and whether I should believe the dirty talk. And if any of it was true, even a single word, what did that mean for our fake marriage?
“Long story short—and it’s a very long story I’ll share with you on a day when you don’t require a fainting couch—he wants to get moving on the renovations at Twin Tulip and he thinks I’m dragging my feet because I don’t want to get attached to the project and that I want to give myself room to walk away. I said I’m—”
