Skinny Pants

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Skinny Pants Page 12

by Pamfiloff, Mimi Jean


  “Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I just wanted you to hear the truth so there’s never any doubt in your mind about why I’m ending things. You are beautiful. I was attracted to you the first moment we met. But I wasted half my life with the wrong woman, and I can’t afford to waste the second half.”

  Macie looked up at him with those soulful brown eyes. Jack could see the hurt in them, but what could he do? She’d lied. She’d broken his trust. And maybe she’d bruised his heart a little too.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” she said quietly.

  He placed his hand on hers, aching to kiss her just once. But that would only make it harder on him. “I’m sorry about your nose. I’ll be happy to check up on it if you like. Just make an appointment.”

  “No. I’m fine. But thanks for the offer.”

  He stood, feeling a sickness build in his stomach. He didn’t want to say goodbye, but he had to. “Good luck, Macie.”

  “Same to you.”

  He went to her door, finding her two friends standing there with their ears pressed to it like they’d promised.

  They both jerked upright.

  “Take good care of her.” He left, and as he got to his car, the heaviness in his heart overwhelmed him. He’d wanted things to work out with Macie. Why did she have to go and fuck it all up?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  That evening, Jack stewed on his terrace overlooking the rolling green hills, desperately trying to digest the day’s events. He couldn’t wrap his head around everything. How had Macie managed to meet a fake version of him, as a fake version of herself, before they’d ever even met for real?

  Fucking hell. It’s too weird for words.

  Then, according to his sister, who he wanted to believe with all his heart, Taylor sent a thank-you cookie to Macie, having no idea that she was the woman he’d casually mentioned meeting at work. “She’s different,” he’d said. “Strong, but in a kind way.” What he hadn’t told his sister was how sexy he thought Macie was, especially those lips and full breasts. At the time, when they’d first met, he hadn’t known Macie well enough to meddle, but something about imagining her looking like a broomstick rubbed him the wrong way. He liked her just the way she was.

  As he got to know her over the next few weeks, her candor, her selflessness, made him think that he would like her even better covered in sweat, moaning in his bed. Honestly, he’d been ready to take a leap with her, which scared the hell out of him. It was why he’d felt so nervous that day he’d taken her to lunch and told her he wanted a relationship. No, he hadn’t come right out and said “Hey, I want to take things to the romantic level, but only if you’re looking for something serious.” Nevertheless, she must’ve gotten the hint. He’d asked her for dating advice—how to make sure this woman he liked knew he was “serious”—and then jumped right into confirming their date. Can’t get much more obvious than that. It had all been a significant step for him, and not an easy one. But that was proof of how special Macie was. She made him want to fight to get his life back. With her if she hadn’t gone and fucked it all up. And where does she get off telling me I’m not passionate? She hardly knows me.

  It was almost as if she preferred the fake him.

  He quickly grabbed his phone and sent her a text.

  Jack: What did he write to you? I want to know.

  He tossed his phone on the small table next to his red Adirondack chair and poured himself another glass of red wine.

  A few minutes later, Macie replied. He grabbed his phone and read: None of your business.

  “What!”

  Jack: It is my business because that SOB is running around telling women he’s me.

  Macie: Maybe so, but he’s not you, and he said those things to me.

  Jack: Passionate things?

  Jack wished he could snarl via text. Because he really wanted her to know how pissed he was.

  Macie: Yes.

  “Oh, you…you…”

  Jack: Such as what he would do to you in bed? Because I guarantee, his words could never stand up to what I would do in real life.

  Macie didn’t respond right away.

  Fuck, what am I doing, drunk texting her? Alright, he wasn’t drunk, but he soon would be, and the things running through his head right now were downright fucking dirty.

  Macie: Like?

  Jack narrowed his eyes at her weak attempt to get the details out of him.

  Jack: Sorry. You want to know, you’ll have to give me something first.

  Macie: What do you want?

  Jack: Don’t play stupid. You know what I like.

  Hell, she’d only caught him staring at her breasts a dozen times. How could he not look? They were big and sexy, and he loved their shape.

  A moment passed and a picture popped on the screen.

  What is…? His brain took a moment to realize she’d sent him a tit pic. “Holy shit.” She had her arm strategically placed right across both nipples, pushing up the soft mounds into the kind of cleavage that made his mouth water.

  “I could fuck those,” he muttered to himself.

  Macie: Your turn. And don’t leave out any details.

  Jack felt his dick harden like a steel flagpole. Goddammit, he was going to have to jerk off. Hard. Otherwise, he’d be stiff for hours.

  Well, if I have to suffer, she does, too. He set down his wine and took his phone with two hands, preparing to torment the hell out of her. With the truth, of course.

  Jack: First, I would lay you in my bed. Fully clothed.

  Macie: Oh. Wow. I think I’m getting sleepy.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  Jack: Then I’d take off your shoes, knowing you had a really, really rough day at work, and give you the kind of foot massage women dream of, pressing your heel, working my fist into your arch, using rose-scented lotion to work out every ounce of tension.

  He knew she liked roses. Her entire apartment smelled of them.

  Macie: I’m listening.

  “I know you are.” Women weren’t men. They couldn’t turn off their horrible day at work, turn on their dicks, fuck, and come. They needed to be put in the mood with relentless attention.

  Jack: Once your beautiful, tired feet are taken care of, I’d slowly remove your clothes and stare down at your naked body on my bed.

  Jack let that idea simmer for a moment in Macie’s head.

  Macie: And???

  Jack smiled. “Yeah, now you’re getting the picture.”

  Jack: And I’d cover my strong hands in lotion and start with your legs, working every muscle in that sexy body of yours until I reached the apex between your legs.

  Macie: What would you do once you got there?

  Jack: I wouldn’t touch you.

  That would be too easy. He’d make her beg for it. He’d tease her with anticipation.

  Macie: That doesn’t sound too exciting.

  “You just wait, woman.”

  Jack: I’d touch every inch of your body. I’d suck your nipples, lick my way up your neck, and kiss the breath from you.

  Macie: You’re still clothed?

  Jack: Yes, but my dick is hard, thinking about you coming, thinking about sliding inside you and fucking you raw. But I’d wait. I’d wait until the ache between your legs is unbearable and you’re so wet that when I thrust my big cock inside you, you’d welcome the pain.

  His cock was big, and he couldn’t lie; he loved the thought of Macie moaning when he used it on her. He imagined her crying out for more even though her body was stretched and filled to the limit of pleasure.

  Macie: …

  Macie: …

  His phone showed she was texting, but no words came across. I bet she’s coming right now. The thought of Macie with her fingers sliding between her slick folds brought him to the edge. He shoved his hands into his jeans and began stroking his length, imagining it was her sheathed around his cock.

  Macie: I want to see it.

  His cock? Close to co
ming, Jack looked at the words and was about to oblige.

  Jack: No.

  “You can use that imagination of yours to keep you warm tonight.”

  Macie: Tease.

  Jack: Goodnight.

  He toggled back to the tit pic and finished himself off with a muted groan. He came in generous hot spurts. He’d never ejaculated so hard. Not with Doris. Not with anyone, though there were few besides her—just enough women for him to know that sex, even good sex, wasn’t enough. He wanted it all. A strong woman, a companion, and a lover.

  Panting, he threw back his head and looked up at the sky. “How’s that for passion, Macie?”

  Macie lay in her bed, her breath coming hard as she set her trusty gold vibrator, Thor, God of Thunder, on her nightstand.

  “Wow.” Where the hell had that come from? Jack had come to her apartment earlier, told her he’d wanted her from the first moment they’d met, that she’d blown it, and then sexted her. She didn’t get the impression that was his initial intent, but they’d sure the hell ended up there.

  She rolled onto her side, her head spinning. Fuck, that was sexy. She’d never done that before.

  So what did this mean? According to him, he couldn’t trust her, so did he think she was jerk-off worthy, but nothing else?

  No. Silly. Jack wasn’t that kind of man. From what she could tell, he wanted a real relationship. A friend, a companion. And he’d made it clear he didn’t want any of that with her.

  Maybe he’s just trying to punish me. And it had worked. She would never forget tonight.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Early Sunday morning, Jack headed over to his sister’s house in Berkeley for a family breakfast. It was a haul from Napa, well over an hour’s drive without traffic, but seeing little Colt was the highlight of his week. The little devil had actually been born in the parking garage at his old hospital near downtown San Francisco, delivered right in her car by none other than Colt Young, who’d just happened to have been there—thus the reason the baby had been named after the iconic rock star. His little nephew was this tiny ball of energy and life, and Jack loved him like crazy. But that love came with a price. Little Colt was a reminder of what he’d once thought he’d have with Doris.

  Damn, I wish they’d move, Jack thought, glancing at the home he once shared with Doris that still stood across the street from Taylor and Bennett’s big yellow house.

  Suck it up, you wuss, he told himself, parking in Taylor’s six-car driveway. He grabbed the bag on the passenger’s seat, containing a gift for little Colt. A panda that sang the ABCs when you pressed its nose.

  Jack couldn’t wait to hear Colt laugh with that tiny baby voice.

  He rang the doorbell and waited. Usually the maid or one of Bennett’s bodyguards opened the door. Bennett was worth billions, and with the new baby, they’d decided to take extra precautions.

  “Jack!” Taylor opened the door, Colt slung on her hip. “You’re just in time.”

  Jack stepped inside and immediately went for his little nephew. “Is that my little rock star? Come to Uncle Jack.”

  Little Colt reached right for him. Jack grabbed the bundle of joy, noting the extra weight. “Wow. Someone is growing fast. Look what Jack brought you.” He produced the panda and watched Colt’s little blue eyes light up with joy.

  “Panda,” Jack told him. “This is panda.”

  Colt grabbed the thing and shoved the ear right into his drool-covered mouth.

  “It sings the alphabet,” he said to Taylor, who stood there doting over the two of them.

  “You’re going to spoil him, Jack. But I know I can’t stop you.”

  “Nope.” Jack turned toward the kitchen. The family usually gathered out on the back terrace overlooking the hills and San Francisco off in the distance.

  “Wait. Jack, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “I don’t want to do this now.” He was still upset at Taylor. Or at least, he still hadn’t been able to accept that all of these bizarre things had happened on their own.

  “No. It’s not about the cookie.”

  He turned and looked into Taylor’s brown eyes. “What, then?”

  She exhaled with a loud whoosh. “There’s someone to see you in the living room.”

  “Who?”

  Taylor looked down at her feet. “Doris. I invited her.”

  “What?” Jack felt his anger surge. “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Because I’m your sister, and I love you, and it’s time to put Doris behind you.”

  “So you meddled. Again. After I strictly prohibited it.”

  “I’m doing it for your own good. You need to hear what she has to say, Jack.”

  “We’re divorced. She left me. There is nothing to say.”

  Taylor nodded. “Maybe not for you. But I think you should listen to her. Please?” Taylor begged. “Just trust me?”

  Jack shook his head at the floor. Why today of all days? Why would Taylor push him like this?

  “Jack?” said a soft voice.

  He turned his head and saw Doris standing in the doorway of the living room. She’d cut her blonde hair into a short bob that framed her freckled face perfectly. The sparkle in her gray eyes reminded him of how she’d looked when they’d first married right out of high school.

  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Taylor grabbed Colt and the panda and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jack turned his attention back to Doris.

  “I only need two minutes, Jack,” she said in that soft voice he knew like the back of his hand. “Just two and then I’ll be gone from your life forever.”

  “You already were,” he snarled. “And I don’t recall inviting you back.”

  Doris bobbed her head at the floor. “I know. But when Taylor called, I knew I’d made a mistake. I thought leaving you alone would make it easier on you. And now I see it was selfish.”

  “So unlike you,” he said bitterly.

  “I deserve that. I deserve every bad word and every bad thought you have about me. But what I never told you Jack is that I didn’t leave because you weren’t good enough or did anything wrong. I didn’t even leave you because you have a penis.”

  He tilted his head. “How comforting.”

  “No. I mean that. You were a phenomenal lover. I enjoyed every second with you from the first to the last.”

  Bullshit. “That’s why you ran off with a woman. I see.”

  “No. I left you for Francine. I spent my entire life looking up to you, Jack. I watched you sail through med school while I struggled just to stay in community college and get my undergrad work done. I watched you start an amazing career and save people’s lives. Meanwhile, I was lucky to get a job as an assistant manager at a clothing store.”

  “You worked because you wanted to, Doris. You never had to take those jobs because I would’ve taken care of you either way.” She’d never settled into a career, hopping from one thing to another and always ending up feeling unsatisfied. He figured she would find her path eventually. In the meantime she seemed to like staying busy because they certainly didn’t need the money once he became a doctor.

  “Well, Jack, that’s what I never told you. You were the perfect husband, but I couldn’t look at you and not feel in some way that you were being shortchanged by being married to me.”

  “What are you talking about, Doris? I never belittled you or made you feel small. I worshipped you. I gave you everything.”

  “That’s the point. The problem was me. Me feeling like I didn’t deserve you. Me feeling like a loser—just this lost little woman who lived in your shadow, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Then I met Francine, and she was the first person who made me see that I wasn’t small or nothing. I just needed to find myself. But I would never be able to do it if I stayed with you.”

  Jack exhaled. This was a lot to digest. “So you left because I was too perfect. Okay. Fine.” That was the biggest load of bullshit he’d ever heard. I
t’s not you. It’s me.

  “No, Jack. You were the wrong man for me. And I was the wrong woman for you. You need a woman who already knows herself and can’t get swallowed up in your shadow.” She stepped forward. “I was—I am—still figuring out who I want to be.”

  Jack nodded, trying to let it all sink in.

  She continued, “I love you, Jack. And I know you don’t believe it because how could someone say that and then do what I did, but I’m hoping someday you’ll understand. I had to let you go. If I loved you, I owed you that, even though I was fully prepared to stay and never see Francine again. But understand, I stuck it out for almost ten years—that’s how long I struggled with all this.”

  Ten years ago was when he’d finished medical school and gotten his first residency.

  Doris’s words punched through a wall in his mind. She was basically saying that she would’ve toughed it out. For him. But she never would’ve been happy, and that would’ve made him even more miserable than her leaving him. He’d loved Doris. With all his heart. She was the reason he’d worked his ass off to give her the perfect life. He never wanted her to worry over money or their future. He’d only wanted to see her content and feel loved. So the choice had been for her to pretend she was happy and to live a lie, or for her to go.

  She added, “So now you know. And now, hopefully, you can put this—us—behind you and find the right woman. Otherwise, all this pain we’ve lived through is for nothing, and I refuse to believe it.”

  “Well,” he shook his head with remorse, “I suppose, then, you did the only thing you could. But you should’ve been honest with me from the beginning. You should’ve said something rather than cheating on me.”

  She nodded. “Yes. I know. But I’m not like you, Jack. I’m not strong. I never was. And I will regret hurting you for the rest of my life and making you pay for my weakness.”

  Maybe Doris was right. They had been wrong for each other. But their deep friendship simply blinded him. Perhaps his loyalty had, too. Or maybe it was like she said, he’d overshadowed her—treating her like a thing to be taken care of and adored rather than nourished and encouraged to take care of herself.

 

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