by K. A. Berg
Before anything else, I needed to see what Nat looked like between Brooke’s legs. She moved tentatively at first, clearly unsure of what to expect. It only took a few seconds for her to find a groove.
“Do you like eating her pussy, love?” I asked as I watched Brooke squirmed under my wife’s touch. “Because I love watching you do it.”
My hand fisted my cock hard as I stepped up behind her. Natalie glanced back at me over her shoulder, her eyes hooded and her cheeks pink. “She tastes sweet and salty.”
My cock wept, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I thrust into Natalie’s pussy hard, and in one long stroke.
Natalie’s cries were muffled by Brooke’s pussy, but Brooke’s were sultry and full of need. Nat began to explore her core with more vigor. Brooke squirmed on the bed as she tweaked her dusty pink nipples.
My hips moved fast, pumping in and out of Nat’s warm pussy.
“Right there,” Brooke directed as she twined her fingers into Natalie’s hair and held her in place against her core.
The walls of Natalie’s pussy clenched my cock as she licked Brooke higher and higher. It looked like Brooke was about to come as Natalie pulled her mouth away and screamed as she came, falling apart around me.
“Matteo,” she shrieked as her legs wobbled, struggling to stay up as I thrust a few more times.
“It’s too much,” she protested as she sank to the floor in a heap of sweat and other bodily fluids. Brooke and her orgasm forgotten.
I scooped my wife into my arms and deposited her on the bed. Brooke turned her head to Nat, her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her breathing was heavy, and her cheeks flush. She reached down, finding her clit as she waited for the next move. “Did that feel as good as it looked?”
Natalie rolled onto her side and nodded. “It was incredible.” Her voice was dreamy and far off, but she somehow found the energy to play with one of Brooke’s nipples. “I can’t feel the lower half of my body.”
I stroked my cock, keeping my orgasm on the horizon. Brooke’s eye zeroed in on my hardness. She watched my hand work up and down as she swirled her fingers around her clit. “Looks like we could both use a bit of help, huh?”
There was no objection from Natalie as I stepped between Brooke’s legs. Brooke continued strumming herself as I slid inside her.
Natalie leaned in drawing one of Brooke’s nipples into her mouth. She licked a circle and then scraped her teeth up it. The urge to come drove me, and I fucked the woman writhing under me like a mad man. My balls tingled as Brooke mewled, her body beginning to spasm.
A roar ripped from deep in my gut as I tossed my head back and came. The blood whooshing through my ears drowned out Brooke’s moans.
As I stepped back, my body felt wired from all the adrenaline and alcohol mixed together, and I made my way to the bathroom to clean up. When I returned to the bedroom, Natalie was out and Brooke was cuddled next her, a few blinks from sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Natalie
My head pounded, and the scent of the bacon, which would normally smell good, made my stomach toss. Ugh, god I felt like I’d been hit by a truck and then it reversed over me again just for fun.
My arm might as well have been lead as I tried to roll over. Matteo snored softly next me, and he grunted when my arm landed on him.
If Matteo was in here with me, then who the hell was making bacon?
My brain was sluggish as I tried to recall last night.
I remembered District 12.
The concert.
The dancing.
The singing.
The drinking.
The other woman.
I sucked in a quick breath and then was out of bed too quick for someone who was hung over and felt like death.
“What’s the matter?” Matteo asked, sitting up. His voice was garbled, and his speech was slow, as if his tongue was stuck to his mouth.
I yanked my robe on and cinched the sash tight around my waist. “She’s in the kitchen. Making bacon.”
“Who?” He rubbed sleep from his eyes, letting the blankets pool around his hips.
How much of his naked body did she see this morning?
“The woman from last night,” I hissed.
“Brooke?”
He stood from the bed, his morning wood on display. Something about him standing there naked, saying another woman’s name—a woman who was in our kitchen using it as if were her own—ticked me off.
“Yes, Brooke.” I spat her name as if it were acid on my tongue. “Put some clothes on. I’m going to tell her it’s time to leave.”
Everything was wrong. The air was thick with memories that flashed in my mind as I trekked down the hall. Women’s clothing littered the gleaming hardwood floors. Some of it was mine. Some of it was hers. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
I had pulled my clothing off as I beelined for the bedroom, feminine giggling echoing behind me the whole way.
Why did I invite this woman into my bed?
Nauseousness rocked my stomach as if I was on a boat in the middle of an ocean while in a hurricane. As I reached the living room, the kids’ school pictures hanging on the wall stared back at me filled with judgment and disgrace.
I brought this woman into my house. What if the kids were coming home this morning? Or worse were home last night?
Clanking and scraping from the kitchen filled the air as I neared closer and closer.
What the hell was I going to say to this woman?
I didn’t remember every word we spoke last night, but I certainly remembered her mouth on me and mine on hers.
OMG! I had my mouth on a vagina last night!
I let another woman eat mine. While Matteo watched.
Matteo fuc—
Shut that shit down right now, Nat.
I needed to get this woman out of my house.
Brooke stood at the kitchen counter in a pair of panties and a shirt. I didn’t recognize either of them, so I guessed they were hers either from last night or she had them in her bag.
Toast popped up from the toaster and startled me. I squeaked, which drew Brooke’s attention to me. Her smile was bright.
“Good morning,” she greeted. “I thought I’d make you breakfast as a thanks for last night and for letting me crash here.”
Great, she was nice and thoughtful.
There went my whole be-a-bitch idea to get her to leave. Matteo joined us a moment later. Brooke’s eyes trailed over his shirtless chest—why the hell wasn’t he wearing a shirt?—and my hackles went up. I didn’t like the way she looked over his body as if she knew what he felt like inside her.
My blood pressure rose. My heart beat faster. Unjustified anger filled me at warped speed.
Calm down, Natalie.
This woman didn’t do anything I didn’t let her or invite her to do.
“Morning, Matteo.” Her voice was sultry and smooth like Sophia Bush’s, and it was enough to make me want to scream. I knew she was remembering how he fucked her last night. Her moans of pleasure assaulted my memory as she smiled at him.
“Morning,” Matteo said, taking a quick stock of the situation. I was five seconds from a freak out. He put his hands on my shoulders as he spoke to Brooke, and all I wanted to do was shrug them off. How could he touch me and speak to her as if everything was fine? Nothing was fine. It wasn’t okay. I was ready to go out of my mind.
What had we done?
I couldn’t even stand the thought of Matt’s hands on me at the moment.
“It was nice of you to make breakfast, Brooke,” he told her as I counted backward from ten in my head as a way to distract myself from the situation. “This isn’t something we normally do. Truthfully, I don’t know if we’d have done it without all the alcohol, and we need some time to come to terms with everything.”
“Oh . . . all right. I’ll just grab my things.” Brooke looked startled and a little embarrassed as she left the kitchen, but I couldn’
t give two shits. I felt as if my life was imploding. All I could think about was how we allowed this woman into our home, into our bed, into our private sanctuary from the world.
Matteo had sex with her.
My husband had sex with another woman while I watched. The face he made as he came last night invaded my head as if it was being spotlighted in a museum. The memory was vivid, technicolor almost. He looked possessed, as if he were on another plane he’d never reached before sexually. I couldn’t remember him ever making that face while he fucked me. And he fucked her last night. Hard.
And . . .
And he came inside her.
We didn’t have condoms, and I didn’t remember anyone stopping to even look for one before he slid into her.
Anger, hurt, and straight up fear festered in my gut like a Molotov cocktail shattering against bricks.
“You didn’t wear a condom, and you came in her,” I snarled at Matteo, lashing out at the closest thing to me. Him. “You better go figure out if we have anything to worry about.”
His face dropped, and fear etched all over every inch. I wanted to die.
How could this have happened to us?
I couldn’t look at his face as everything came smacking into us. My chest felt as if it were on fire as I darted out of the kitchen and into the kids’ bathroom.
Sinking to my knees, I dry heaved into the toilet. If there had been anything in my stomach to come up, it would have.
What if Matteo knocked her up last night?
I had the implant in my arm, so we didn’t have to worry about condoms.
How could we be so stupid?
What if she had some kind of STI? Oh, dear god!
Sweat poured out of every possible place it could. I needed a shower. I needed to wash this all away.
This was a nightmare. All I wanted to do was wake up.
Wake up, damn it!
The hot water from the shower didn’t help me feel any less dirty as I jumped in and let it pour over my head. We brought some strange woman into our home. What if she’d been an axe murderer or a con artist who was waiting to clean house as soon as we fell asleep? What if she was leaving a window unlocked somewhere so she could sneak back in? She had been up first. She was chipper too. I doubted she was hung over. I questioned if she had even been drunk last night at all.
When I exited the bathroom, Matteo had pulled on a shirt and was sitting on the couch, waiting for me.
Sure, he put on a shirt after she was gone.
The first thing I saw when I looked at him was that damn face again. The wave of nausea surged back up. Fuck, would I be able to see anything but?
Things were not right between us. The difference was so evident in the air that it could have been tangible. I pulled my robe tighter, almost warding off the chill the distance between us was throwing at me.
Matteo’s eyes were rimmed with red—from the hang over or emotion, I didn’t know. While I felt ready to explode, it seemed Matteo was ready to fall apart. His voice cracked when he spoke. “She said she’s on the pill but will stop and grab a morning after pill on the way home. She offered to come back here and take it in front of us, but I didn’t think that was the best idea. She’ll send video confirmation when she’s taken it. We exchanged phone numbers to follow up. She also said she’s clean, but we should get tested anyway.”
A torrent of fury radiated up my body. “So, now she has our address and your phone number.”
“It was necessary, and once we know we are in the clear, I can block her,” he said, leveling me with a hard stare. “I don’t have any intention of contacting her outside of making sure she doesn’t wind up pregnant.”
A sob ripped from my chest as he said it aloud, casually putting the idea into the universe as if it didn’t have the potential to destroy our lives. Matteo was off the couch in a heartbeat, but I still couldn’t tolerate his touch. When he wrapped his arms around me, it felt tainted.
“Don’t, please,” I cried, stepping away from the man who could usually fix all my problems.
He fell apart a little more. “What’s happening here, Natalie? I get that I screwed up with the protection last night, but why does it feel like you’re acting as though you feel like I cheated on you? I followed your lead last night. You were there the whole time.”
“I know that,” I choked out, knowing he was right, but my feelings were raw and nonsensical. “But that doesn’t seem to matter.” Anger rose in my voice, taking over. “I can’t stop seeing your face when you came in her. You never make that face with me. You’ve never looked so far gone before. ”
His eyes widened then narrowed. “Natalie.” His voice had bite and sadness to it. “I don’t know what face I made last night, but whatever face I made was because my wife just had sex with another woman and it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. It had nothing to do with Brooke and everything to do with you and what we were experiencing together. Brooke could’ve been anyone.”
Everything started to spiral.
The gravity of all that had transpired was too heavy, too suffocating. I knew I was about to break, and I didn’t want to break in front of Matteo. I felt too vulnerable for that.
I couldn’t look Matteo in the eyes. I really felt as if he cheated on me, but it was more than that or the face he made while he came inside another woman.
It was that there was a chance he could have a child with that woman. I didn’t care how big or small the chance.
Even the smallest fraction of a percent was too much for me.
Everything felt soiled. Everywhere I looked, I saw some part of last night. The idea of heading into my bedroom sounded as welcoming as being water boarded.
I didn’t know how I’d ever feel comfortable in our room again. How would I walk in there and not compare the blue of our walls to the blue of that woman’s eyes? Every time I climbed onto the bed, would I think about her all over it?
The tricks a distraught woman’s mind could play on her rational one were endless. Emotions were running the ship, and those bitches were steering straight toward the iceberg.
“Natalie . . .” The sound of his voice sliced me open wide, but I couldn’t reassure him. I just needed to get out of there.
As I shook my head, I saw the tears tip over Matt’s lower lids. Each one added a crack to my heart, but what were a few more when there were already thousands of fresh fractures? It didn’t seem to matter how much I loved my husband. We crossed a line, and there was no uncrossing it. “I need some time. Away from here.” It would have been easier to rip my own heart out than it was to say the next two words. “And you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Natalie
My hand ached with a fierceness as I banged on Penelope’s door unnecessarily hard. It was barely ten in the morning, and I was wearing an old, ratty T-shirt and leggings with bleach stains on them. Her neighbors must have thought I was a homeless woman lost in their neighborhood. Not that it mattered what anyone thought.
The ache in my heart outweighed any judgement from her neighbors.
The lock of the door disengaged, and then Pen was there, standing on the other side in her cute skinny jeans and billowy tank top. Her auburn hair was piled up on the top of her head in a messy knot and she held a cup of coffee.
The smell hit my nose and for some reason the fact I didn’t have coffee with Matteo that morning, like we’d been doing for the last few weeks it’d been just us, made the tears well up on my lower lids.
I rushed inside, snatching her coffee cup as I passed.
“What the hell?” she screeched at my back. “You pound on my door like the DEA on a raid, you look like something the cat dragged in, and you steal my coffee? All without saying a word? You could’ve called, you know?”
The coffee barely had any taste as I drank it down, but I didn’t care. “My phone is dead.” My voice cracked as I answered. Everything was bubbling up and ready to spill over. The tears started first. They slip
ped down my cheek without permission.
I was numb on the drive over and hadn’t considered the simple action of plugging it in.
I didn’t want it to ring.
I didn’t want to hear Matteo ask me to come home.
My shoulders shook as I tried my hardest to contain everything festering inside me.
“Natalie?” Pen asked, her voice bathed in concern. “What’s going on?”
She approached and assessed the situation quickly. My hands gripped the mug as if it were my only lifeline. Tears streamed down my face, and I seemed to be rooted to the middle of her living room floor.
“Sweetie,” she cooed, and the dam burst, sobs ripped from my chest as I crumbled to the floor.
Luckily for me, and Pen’s rug, she grabbed the mug just before it spilled everywhere. She discarded it on the end table, sank down next to me on the floor, and pulled me in a half hug.
“What can I do? Where is Matteo? Should I call him?”
His name on her lips was gut-twisting. Matteo has always had this way of making things all okay for me. Not this time. He wouldn’t be the one to make this all better. At least not with how hurt I felt.
My voice was buried underneath my sorrow so I only managed to shake my head.
“No?” She was understandingly surprised. “Okay, should I call Norah? This definitely sounds like a crisis of some kind.”
I nodded, and in the next moment, she unwrapped her arms from around me and stood to head to the kitchen.
A minute later, she returned with a mug of coffee for me and her cell to her ear. “Code Red. My house. Natalie is here, and it doesn’t look good.”
“Oh, girl.” Norah rubbed my back. “I am so sorry.”
Putting everything that happened from last night to this morning into words was a monumental feat. By the end, I felt as if I were in a fog bubble, and my life was just some tragic train wreck that I couldn’t look away from. We were that couple who broke what wasn’t broken by trying to fix it.
I cut my narrowed gaze to the side table, to where my phone vibrated like crazy. Even though I’d asked her not to, Penelope had plugged it in while we waited for Norah to arrive. It was filled with text messages and missed calls from Matteo.