I look back at him and his lips come down on mine again with so much force that it pushes me into the wall. When he pulls away, I'm heady, I’m breathless, I'm confused.
With a smirk on his lips, he backs away from me, one step at a time. And then, he slips out the front door.
Chapter 18
Daniel
Prescott slaps the print-out of my Shinewell v. Reyfield arguments onto my desk and grins. “You’re a fucking genius, you know that?”
I lean back in my executive chair and make a big show of straightening my collar and my sleeve cuffs. “Of course I am. Do you think that my reputation just dropped down out of thin air?” I throw my feet up on my desk, crossing them at the ankles.
I feel good. Invincible. Like a man who just banged the shit out of his lovely wife.
I can still smell her on my fingers. And I can taste her on my tongue. I feel her softness pressed up against me and her silky hair slipping through my fingers.
I just fucked my wife.
Most men take that privilege for granted but I was locked out for 13 months. And now that I've been inside her again, it's all I can think of. Bending her over that table and fucking her like a brute wasn't enough. I want to spread her out on a bed of roses and eat her pussy until my tongue spasms. I want to flip her on her belly and lose my face between her ass cheeks as she screams my name. I want to tie her to the mattress and stroke her little cunt until –
"Daniel, have you heard a word I said?"
My gaze snaps up to Prescott's impatient expression. "Sorry. What?"
"I think we should subpoena the mayor. There’s strong evidence of obstruction of justice and maybe even money laundering."
I shake my head. “No, no, no. That’s not what this case is about. We’re just trying to block the landfill. I’m not interested in heading off on some white collar crime fishing expedition!”
My colleague sits on the edge of my desk and smirks. “But you know he did it. The evidence is there.”
“No,” I insist. The last thing I need is for this monster case to spring another arm or leg. I’m trying to shrink this problem down to the dimensions of a pocket-sized pay check, not pile one more brick on top of the pyramid of issues. “We’re not criminal prosecutors. Let’s just do our job. Eyes on the prize. Let’s not go putting any more ideas in our clients’ heads.”
“Wow! You’re really saying ‘no’ to this?”
“I’m really saying ‘no’ to this.”
A look bordering on disgust covers the young lawyer’s face. “Damn – just a second ago, I was really impressed with you but now, it looks like you’re losing your touch.”
I shrug a shoulder carelessly. “Just learning to put things into perspective. Some battles you fight. Some you let slide for the sake of your sanity.”
He slips off my desk, padding toward the exit. “The miraculous transformation...From indomitable legal shark to scared pussy in the blink of an eye.”
I hold my hand over my heart, bursting with feigned emotion. “Sounds like a Tony Robbins book.”
“My book club is reading it this Wednesday,” he says mockingly. “I’ll save you a seat. Make sure to bring your famous onion dip.”
Sarcastic bastard…I chuckle under my breath before he disappears around the bend. “Fuck off, Brooks!” He disinterestedly flips me the bird.
He can tease all he wants. After what happened this morning between me and Grace, I think I might have a real shot at putting my family back together and there's no way I'm fucking it up this time.
Chapter 19
Daniel
My eyes are glued to the screen of my phone as the cashier serves the person in line ahead of me. It's Sunday evening and I spent all weekend at the office with Prescott, working on that damn appeal. I thought I'd get a few hours to decompress before heading back into work in a few hours but I was wrong. I have other clients clamoring for my attention, too. I sigh heavily.
I used to get off on this. The round the clock busy work was an adrenaline rush. I used to thrive on the constant stream of distractions but now it's all just getting in the way.
I miss my wife and kid. I'm homesick, fuck! Friday night, I slept on the couch. Saturday morning, I fucked Grace against the front door. I'm trying to work my way back up to the bed so that, come Monday morning, I'll wake up with her in my arms.
I’m not a fool. I know that this will be an uphill fight. The scar tissue is there. Layers and layers of it. But now, I feel a renewed determination to work through all of it. I’m going to make things right. I’m going to get Grace to forgive me and take me back.
I'm vaguely aware of the cashier's greeting as he begins to scan my items – a couple of frozen dinners, a box of Oreos, some mouthwash and a bottle of that fancy sparkling water they claim is from the French Alps.
But when he says, "Hi Mrs. Trotten..." my attention snaps to him. He's blushing hard and his eyes are peeled to the person approaching just over my shoulder.
I spin around and there she is, pretty as ever, approaching with a cart overflowing with meats, vegetables and boxed goods. She gives him a small, reserved smile. "Hi there, Tommy."
And then her eyes come to me. Her gaze warms up the pit of my belly. I shove my phone into my pocket, my email conversation quickly forgotten.
Her smile grows wider and her cheeks deepen in color. "What's on the menu tonight?" She gestures toward my shopping.
I grin. "In the mood for alfredo." I tip my chin at the frozen dinners sitting on the conveyor belt.
She begins to take stuff out of her cart and instinctively I start helping her. My gaze hooks onto hers and I don't want to let go.
She looks away shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What?” Her head dips coyly.
“You’re pretty. That’s all.”
Her tint goes raspberry red. The corners of my mouth turn up. If you can make your wife – the one who filed for divorce – blush like a schoolgirl, maybe all hope isn't lost.
"So what are you up to tonight?" I ask, eyeing the groceries.
"Girls' night. I'm making honey-garlic chicken with spinach risotto."
My stomach rumbles. "That sounds phenomenal.” Suddenly, my microwavable pasta doesn’t seem so appetizing.
I stand there, silently hoping for an invitation that never comes. It’s sitting right on the tip of her tongue. I can almost see the words. But she doesn’t say them. That hurts. I’m not defeated, though. Because we’re standing next to each other without fighting or giving each other the silent treatment. Things are on the up and up.
I whip out my credit card when the cashier is done scanning Grace’s items. He reaches to take it from me.
Grace’s hand covers my wrist to stop me. My movements falter with the mere touch of her skin to mine. “You don’t have to do that, Daniel.”
I straighten my spine. “Let me. Please.”
She gives me that I-don’t-wanna-fight look and I grin at the tiny victory, feeling purposeful at the fact that she’ll allow me to take care of her in that small way. Then I load the groceries into the trolley and we make our way back to her minivan.
“Where’s Sebastian?” I ask as we walk.
“He’s with Lily for the afternoon. He loves it down on the farm. All the animals.”
I hike a brow at her. “You do realize that your sister is using our baby as a stunt double until her own kid gets here, right?”
Grace giggles, “Ah, shrug. She gets to play mommy, I get a free babysitter and Sebastian gets to chase chickens all around the yard. Win-win-win!”
When our soft laughter fades away, we pack the groceries into the trunk together in a nervous but companionable silence. My eyes are glued to her ass as she slides that last bag in. She’s wearing those jeans I like, the ones that prop her globes up like she’s got a push-up bra in her pants. I haven’t seen her in those in so long. My cock is jerking in my pants.
She straightens up and catches me staring. Again.
“What?” she asks, more insistently this time. Her cheeks are cherry red. So pretty. And her lips are full and glossy. Her tits strain the fabric of her shirt. I want to fuck her so bad. Those pretty eyes tell me she knows exactly what I’m thinking and she’d be easily persuaded to participate.
I walk around to the side of the minivan and yank the back door open. It rumbles as it rolls along its tracks. “Get in.”
Her eyes bulge. “What?”
“Get into the car, Grace.”
Hesitation covers her features but I know that it’s only a momentary pang of conscience. If I look at her the right way, hold her gaze for long enough, her lust will quickly win out over her guilt.
I’ll never forget the epic snowstorm of second year when only a handful of students showed up to Criminal Law class. We sat at the back of the room and with a little bit of convincing, I had her coming all over my hand right there in the lecture hall.
I know my girl. She’s as ladylike as they come but for me, her wild side shows up to play.
I hold her stare. “Get. In. The. Car.”
She shivers at the firm command in my voice. I see that mischievous look on her face. She slowly peers around the parking lot and when she’s satisfied that there isn’t a soul around, she grins at me and climbs into the back row, pushing Sebastian’s books and toys to the floor as she scoots across the suede seating.
I’m right behind her, making my stealth entry into the cabin. She lies on her back grinning up at me as I struggle to peel off her tight jeans. She titters, wiggling her hips to help me out.
Smirking, I lean down to steal a kiss. I run my lips along her smooth neck, kissing and tasting her skin before burying my face in the warm valley of her breasts. She purrs, arching her back and wrapping her shapely thighs around me.
I want her back…
And we’re going to have to sit down and have a mature conversation eventually but for now, all I can think about is what I’m going to do to her once she shimmies that fine ass out of those jeans.
She reaches for my belt and undoes my fly, eagerly pushing my pants down to my knees. I groan low in my chest when her fingers tighten around my rod and she strokes me.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I groan and her eyes shine up at me. I push her little lacy panties to the side and she lifts her hips, swallowing my cock into her tight, wet pussy.
My head drops at the sensation. “You feel so damn good. Your little cunt is magic.” Despite everything that’s happened between us, my wife’s pussy is still my happy place.
“Fuck me,” she purrs.
I press a hand on the window for balance and drive my cock into her. Over and over, I pound into her as warmth unfurls in my limbs. Her eyelids flutter and her face does the sexiest things. She wraps her arms around my neck and thrusts her pelvis up for contact with mine.
I know the way her body works. I know that the friction is driving her crazy. I know that her muscles are beginning to grow tighter. She’s about to come.
Her pussy spasms around me. Her eyes squeeze shut but I want her looking at me. “Open your eyes,” I whisper, cupping her cheek in my hand. Her lids part and those chestnut irises twinkle at me.
My five senses witness the moment that she explodes. I see the way her face contorts with pleasure. I hear the moans that roll out of her throat. I feel the way her body tenses beneath me. I smell her lust filling the cabin. I lean in and taste her mouth. This is euphoria.
“Daniel...” she moans my name long and low. My orgasm detonates inside of me like a bomb and I shoot my cum into that tight pussy that was made just for me. Grace reaches up and touches my face as I come down from the high.
She rises up with sweat beading on her brow as she looks around. “Don’t tell me we ran out of tissues,” she mutters to herself.
Still breathless, I pick a random piece of food out of her wavy blonde mane. “Think you’ve got animal cookies in your hair.” I chuckle.
“Oh, thanks.” She distractedly runs her fingers through her hair as she bends over clumsily, looking under the seat. “Didn’t I have a roll of paper towel back here?” She leans further and goes careening toward the floor. Luckily, I grab her by the waist before her cranium hits the floor.
As I ease up to pull up my pants, my head goes smack into the roof. “Ouch! Shit!”
“You okay?” she giggles as she rubs the top of my skull.
I smile. “Yeah – I’m good.”
“Okay, this’ll have to do,” she says as she grabs a packet of baby wipes from the floor and hands me a few sheets.
I cock an eyebrow at her as she uses a wad of the wipes to clean herself up between the legs. “Seriously?”
She looks at my expression and bursts into laughter. “We are ridiculous!”
I drink in the sound of her laughter, I let the memory of her smile be seared on my brain. I need this memory. I need more moments like this.
She stares at me as I stare at her. Her cheeks pink up. I love how she still has these little moments when she gets shy in front of me. “What?” she questions softly.
The answer to her innocent question bounces into my mind. I love you...I hate swallowing those words back when they're what I really want to say. It's been too long since she heard that declaration fall from my lips.
When we fucked the other day, right at the front door, it was a small victory for me. I thought that I’d finally gained the upper hand. I’d smirked to myself as I left her standing there at the front door coming to grips with the reminder of what she was walking away from, what she was signing away in the divorce...The best fuck she'd ever have.
But now, that I’m here with her in the back seat of her minivan, I’m willing to admit that she holds the power, I’m in love with her and I’ll take her any way I can get her.
I kiss her on the cheek and she looks at me with shimmering eyes. “You okay?” I ask as I finish tucking my shirt into my pants.
“I’m good,” she assures me.
We stare at each other for way too long. It dawns on me that neither of us want this moment to end. But my pride kicks in. I can’t bear to have her kick me out again, so I’ll leave before she gets the chance.
“I’m gonna get going,” I say then I pop the door open and climb onto the pavement.
The joy hollows out her eyes and she gives me a shallow smile. “Yeah…” I watch her crawl over the seats and slide behind the wheel.
I move to the driver’s side window and watch her fasten her seat belt. She rolls down the window and smiles shyly. She looks at me and there's so much softness in her eyes. God – maybe she still loves me. Call me an optimistic fucker, but maybe my wife still loves me.
I should say something, something meaningful, something that will let her know that I still love her, too. Instead, I say, “Take care, Grace.”
She nods as she turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot.
We’re going our separate ways tonight. It feels so wrong.
Chapter 20
Grace
My friends stare eagerly at me as I approach the table with the serving dish.
“That smells insanely good,” Lily says. She’s practically salivating.
“I didn’t put too much spice. We have pregnant and breastfeeding mamas in our midst.” I clutch the dish tightly.
“Gracie, stop making excuses.” Faith motions impatiently for me to hand over the food. “Let me at it!” She winks as I set it in her hands.
She portions out a few slices of chicken breast onto her plate before passing the serving dish off to Sammie. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” my sister-in-law assures me. “The smell alone is making my mouth water.”
I push out a breath and try to relax. I have to stop being so anal about the small things. They’ll love it. And if they don’t, it’s not the end of the world. My house has been the primary headquarters of our girls’ nights since Daniel left and the girls have always enjoyed my cooking. But now that I’ve st
arted taking this hobby a little more seriously, I get really worked up about sharing it with the people around me.
Giving Sammie a smile, I turn back in the direction of the fridge to grab the salad. I hear Isla call out to me. “Hey, are you okay, Gracie? You’re limping.”
My shoulders scrunch up all the way to my ears. I’ve been grinding my teeth all evening, trying to walk as normally as possible. But I think I pulled a muscle in my back during today’s illicit romp in the grocery store parking.
“I told her to stop hoisting Sebastian onto her hip,” Faith says in a preachy tone as she lifts a forkful of risotto to her lips. “Your spine is gonna go crooked!” She takes a bite and her whole face transforms. “Oh my god. Gracie, this is amazing!” she groans as she savors it.
Dirty Forever (The Dirty Suburbs Book 8) Page 10