His Rebound Love

by Melissa Bender

  I sighed, standing back and watching again like I had done all week. I wanted to say something else but decided on keeping my mouth shut. It was best I said nothing. That way, I could not fuck up any more than I had done.

  Swaying on my feet, I heard the usual coos from behind. “Aww… How old is she?”

  My smile was automatic as I glanced down at my sleeping daughter, nuzzled and protectively wrapped up in my arms. “Two months,” I replied, still in newborn daddy bliss.

  “How precious… She’s so beautiful.”

  “What beautiful coloured hair…”

  Just like her mother’s.

  A few more mothers came over, asking the same question. Always the same fucking questions. I replied, and off they went. Sienna finally pulled herself away from the table, looking teary and heartbroken. “He’s too little.”

  “He’s four.” I pointed out. “He has to start school sometime, babe.”

  “He doesn’t even care that we’re going. Why can’t he miss me?” She huffed, a slight frown creasing where her brows met.

  I needed to get her out of her, now. “Let’s go to the car. I think little miss is missing her mama’s boob.”

  “Stop trying to use Millie as an excuse to get me to leave Hudson.” She glanced around the room, finding that he had run off outside with his friends. “I should go find him and kiss him goodbye.”

  “You’ve said goodbye three times already.” I pointed out, wrapping an arm around her as I smiled, urging her to walk with me. “Come on, baby. It’ll be half two before we know it and then you’ll be waiting for him to go to bed.”

  Reluctantly, she finally walked to the car with me.

  Back home, I watched as she fed Millie with her full breast, enjoying the view as she settled down our crying daughter. Fatherhood was better than I could have ever imagined. From the second Hudson was born, it changed us both for the better. My nights were spent inside our home, instead of going out with the guys. At work, I was eager to come back home again. I took three weeks off work when he arrived, screaming. Sienna had been incredible during labour, although she was terrified of shitting the bed. She didn’t. She went in, pushed our son out while almost breaking my hands in the process, and told me my dick was never going near her again.

  Five weeks later, she caved in and begged for my cock to be inside her.

  Catching my gaze, she pulled Millie’s blanket, covering her full breasts more. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?” I smiled, stretching out on the couch.

  “Shouldn’t you be at work?” She pointed out, faking annoyance.

  I shrugged, watching as she stood up to place Millie in her rocker. “I’m working from home today.” In all honesty, I would rather be working from home everyday just to be around them.

  “You’re not working, though.” Grinning as she turned back around, she walked towards me. I opened my arms, welcoming her on my lap. “You should be working.”

  “I’m thinking of something else I would much rather be doing.” Eating her out was high on my to-do list. “She’s asleep. Does daddy get a feed?”

  Scoffing, her face scrunched in disgust. A grin formed on my face as I laughed hysterically. It was still so easy to embarrass her. With a push against my chest, she stood up and walked away. “You’re a pervert. Go and do some work.”

  I followed her to the laundry room, leaning against the door frame as I watched her fold tiny pink socks together. She had not worked since just before she fell pregnant with Millie. It didn’t take us longer than two months to have her, and I had been fucking excited to know we were having a girl. I would like two more, but she wanted only one.. I had plenty of time to change her mind.

  There was one thing I was eager to know. “Why won’t you marry me?”

  She did not hesitate in her answer. “I am going to marry you.”

  “It’s nearly been five years since I proposed. You won’t set the date.” I pointed out, slightly bothered by this. “We have children.”

  “Yes, and that’s more of a commitment than marriage.” She looked up with a heavy sigh. “I’m not purposely putting it off. I just don’t have the time to plan a wedding.”

  I raised a brow. I guess she was right, but it still pissed me off. “I want to set the date, Sienna.”

  “Are you demanding this?” She stopped what she was doing, folding her hands over her chest.

  I would have taken her on the washing machine if this was under any other circumstances. “No, I’m not demanding it. I’m telling you that I would like to be married… and soon. I suggest you make time in your busy schedule and fit it in.”

  Her smile grew, and I wondered what was going through her mind. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I questioned back. She was up to something.

  She nodded and went back to the laundry. As I began walking to my home office, I heard her calling out. “Go get naked. I want to make love.”

  FOUR YEARS AND TWO WEEKS LATER

  We married in the place we first met—just the two of us with our children and parents. It turned out she had already set the date. She just hadn’t told me about it until the evening before when she kicked me out to go and stay with my parents for the night.

  I thought I had loved her with all that I could after she gave birth…

  Turned out seeing her walk towards me in an off-white dress— with our son by her side, holding her hand, and our daughter in her arms—would prove me wrong.

  I fell in love with her even more.

  For the rest of my life, I would love her endlessly.

  SIX YEARS LATER

  Sienna slid over an ultrasound picture, and I frowned. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “Look at it.” Her voice void of any emotion. “What do you see?”

  “Millie? Hang on, no… There’s two.” I scrunched my brows, holding it up closer. “Wait. Are you…”

  My smile grew, which only seemed to piss her off. “Yes, Jackson. You’ve gotten your wish.”

  Holy fuck.

  I had gotten her pregnant with twins and was currently enjoying my first night on the couch after she refused to sleep beside me.

  Fucking worth it.

  SIX YEARS AND AN HOUR LATER

  I was back in the bed, holding my wife in my arms. Life hadn’t felt so good. I was a husband, a father, and a provider for my family. The life she had given me was more than I could ever have imagined, and it would only get better for us.

  Sienna may have been what others would call a rebound. She was anything but. She brought me happiness that I had never known. She was the mother of our children… and many more children to come.

  I whispered, my hand settled protectively against her flat stomach. “Are you still mad?”

  Turning in my arms, she directed her eyes at me. They were soft and loving as she brought her hand to my cheek, stroking it. “How could I be mad when you’ve given me all of these, two children and two more on the way? I’m anything but mad.” Her smile grew, and she leant in, pressing her lips against mine. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, Jax.”

  “I love you, Sienna.”

  This woman is mine. The one and only. My love. My life.

  I would go to sleep each and every night with my arms tightly around her body, and I would love her… even when dreaming. I was reaching for her, grasping her tightly like I was afraid she would vanish.

  The rest of my life, I would spend loving her.

  THE END

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  Prologue

  Most would call us high school sweethearts. I fell fiercely and violently when we first met at fifteen. He was leaning against the lockers in the school corridor when I lai
d eyes on him for the very first time. My heart raced at the sight of him, pounding inside my chest so hard that I thought it would nearly explode. I walked past, blushing as my gaze dropped the second our eyes locked. Luckily for me, he felt the same way too.

  I looked at him with love and complete devotion and always craving his deep blue eyes on me. Often, I’d look up to see him staring right back, gazing ever so lovingly towards me and sneaking hidden glances during classes. Even when we finished school and moved in together, he would always watch. At night, Brody would always hold me as if I were about to disappear, never wanting to let go.

  Fast forward eleven years and two children later, the only thing exploding of late was my anger towards him. The fire of passion between us was no longer explosive. Lovemaking was a rare, occasional occurrence, and I no longer had a clue what foreplay was needed. Was it spitting on my own fingers or giving him a quick grab? I didn’t know. I just knew it wasn’t what it should have been.

  Every touch, lingering kiss, and glance towards each other was just for show. Behind the large wooden door of our home, we were anything but happy. Living a lie was what we’d become accustomed to. This was our life.

  To everyone else, we appeared the perfect couple. Deep down, I knew the divorce was near.

  We spent most nights apart, sleeping in separate bedrooms. I hated it. I hated that we’d grown to loathe each other. The undeniable attraction was still here, just fizzled out. Neither of us was willing to try to keep the spark alive or to keep what we once had. Both of us had given up.

  His personal life was suffering because work always came first. Brody worked hard all the time. I won’t deny that. He had thrown himself into becoming the best he could, climbing the ladder to the top. I said nothing when I really should have spoken up the second I began feeling left out. My thoughts were kept hidden away and left unsaid.

  His family never noticed, too busy engrossed with their own lives to notice just how bad things had become. Brody’s mother loved her weekly family dinners and the yearly vacations. We would always manage to avoid those. Using work as the perfect excuse when in all honestly, we just couldn’t stand to be in the same room with one another for two weeks, which was a sad and harsh reality.

  I was unable to complain too much as Brody had given me a wonderful life, a beautiful six-bedroom home, much bigger than we needed, but it was ours. Brody earned enough to keep the bills paid and then some. After Noah was born, I stayed home full time, taking the new job title as a housewife.

  It was hard at first as I had always loved my job, enjoying the daily interactions with other adults and feeling like I mattered. Now, I was used to being a stay-at-home mother, enjoying my children and living life through them.

  Pathetic, I know. I just didn’t know how miserable that would make me in the end.

  Chapter 1

  Quietly, my knuckles rapped against the wood before I reached down and turned the knob. Pushing the door open, I began to walk inside his office. My husband sat behind his large wooden desk, a soft glow against his face from the lamp close by. His office was filled with bookcases and family photographs. A couch was pushed against one side of the wall and a TV in the corner for the nights he spent in here.

  This was his usual spot when home, working and away from everyone.

  He looked so handsome with that dark brown hair and those blue eyes I wanted to lose myself in. For a moment, it was easy to forget that we were in a war against each other most days.

  “The kids are asleep. I’m going to bed now,” I said, interrupting him with a heavy sigh as I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the white wall.

  Brody didn’t bother looking up. “Goodnight.”

  I lingered, wishing things were different. How I wanted to go over there, walk across the timber flooring, pull his swivel chair around to sit on his lap with my arms draped over his shoulders, and kiss or just talk about our day—just to be close to him once again.

  Paperwork scattered all around, his eyes were narrowed as he concentrated hard on whatever was on the screen. His fingers typing furiously on the Mac keyboard stopped. His head stayed bowed as his dark eyes glanced upwards. “Yes?” His voice was low yet still held authority over me.

  I felt uncomfortable in here. Awkwardness filled the room as I stood by the door. “Did you need anything before I go?” I asked and swallowed the dry lump in my throat as he stared.

  “No.” Short and curt came his reply, and just like that, he was back typing away.

  We rarely spoke about anything else other than the children or what our week entailed. As I went to close the door, I heard a disgruntled sigh. There was no need to say anything else. I left the room, making my way down the hallway to the children.

  Lila was fast asleep, clutching her doll against her cheek as I pulled the light pink bed cover up over her shoulders to keep her warm during the winter’s night. Her dark brown hair was curled and splayed out against her pillowcase as she mumbled something incoherent and rolled from her side to her back. I couldn’t help but just smile, wanting to sit in here forever and watch her.

  At seven, she was determined but stubborn at the best of times with a huge imagination. Her daddy was wrapped around her fingers, his little princess. Noah, who was a year older, was the opposite. He was very laid back and easy to keep happy. He’d gotten that from his father. The children were both often mistaken as twins with their age so close. Noah wasn’t much of a talker, either reading a book or outside riding up and down the driveway on his bike. Lila loved to talk about anything and everything.

  I kissed her goodnight and then made my way across the hallway to Noah’s room. The second book of Harry Potter was on his face as he had fallen asleep reading again. I laughed softly to myself, placed the bookmark on the open page, and left the book on his bedside table.

  I couldn’t deny it. Brody and I made beautiful children. Biased or not, they were my life.

  After kissing his forehead as my fingers combed through his dark, almost black hair, I stood up straighter, left his bedroom, and made my way back to ours. I paused momentarily and stared at his office door once more. I almost went in again. He was in there, shutting me out and blocking me away. Deciding against it, I left.

  Slipping into the shower, I began to lather body wash into my olive skin and clean myself. I loathed the way my body looked after having children. Twenty-seven and I loathed my body. I could lie and say that I kept my figure or lost the weight, but I hadn’t. I had leftovers from Lila, probably some from Noah too. It was too easy to eat and enjoy the sugary sweet cravings from being pregnant, convincing myself that I’d work hard to wear it off once they were born. It just never happened.

  My hair hadn’t been cut in years, just not bothering with it. It only went up in a ponytail, the way boring mums do. Even makeup went untouched, just a quick dab of blush and gloss. I really couldn’t be bothered with it. The clothes that I used to wear, all those shorts and tight-fitting jeans were hiding in the back of my closet, hidden away for the day that I would finally be able to wear them again without the embarrassing belly fat bulging over the top.

  Brody never once complained or said anything, but my subconscious told me that it bothered him. He’d only gotten better-looking with age, worked successfully, and grown into a strong man. It made sense for him to have a beautiful woman on his arm. However, I was never on his arm. I hadn’t even been asked to join him at one of his work dinners since Noah was born. He would call up and inform me at the last minute that he wouldn’t be making it home until late.

  I was convinced he was fucking his receptionist, the woman who took his business calls. He denied it, of course. What man wouldn’t want to be sucked off by a gorgeous blonde when his wife wasn’t doing it to him?

  The last time we were consistent with being intimate was when we were trying to fall pregnant with our youngest, Lila. I’d become increasingly aroused during my pregnancy with her, craving his touch, his kisses…to feel h
is hands on my skin. He never seemed to mind, always up for a quick romp between the sheets before work, before dinner, or when our eldest Noah was napping.

  When Lila entered the world, sex and sleep were a distant memory of the past.

  You could say our marriage began taking its toll when Noah entered our world. Brody had only just made it to the hospital. Another five minutes and he would have missed the first of his son, Noah. It was the same with Lila, another business meeting that he couldn’t dash away from.

  Sex was boring. Neither of us even really tried, and I had faked so many orgasms that I lost count.

  As I stepped out of the shower, I quickly dried off in fear that Brody would already be in the room. I hated the thought of him seeing my body. Slipping into my flannel pyjamas, I sat down on the bed with my legs tucked up and put a braid in my half-dried hair. The bed felt cold and lonely as I slipped under the covers after brushing my teeth. It was too big, too empty.

  We didn’t have a TV in our room. When we first moved in, Brody said we didn’t need one. The bedroom was for two things, sleeping and sexy time. Now, I wished there was a TV in here.

  My eyes stared at the door, waiting, hoping he would come in and want to hold me. He didn’t, and I fell asleep.

  I could vaguely hear him undressing in our walk-in closet. Barely awake, I rolled over, picked my phone up and noticed the time, almost 2:00 am, hours after I had said goodnight to him.

  Putting the phone back down, I snuggled further beneath the covers as he joined me in the bedroom. “You awake?” his voice soft, half-heard.

  “No,” I replied.

  I kept my eyes closed as I rolled to my back. This was his usual pickup line when he wanted some. I opened my eyes just as he walked around to his side of the bed, naked. Sitting down, I watched as he opened his side of the bedside table drawer and take out a condom. Tearing it open, he tossed the foil wrapper and began rolling down the condom down his thick length. I wasn’t offended. Neither of us wanted any more children.