LOVER COME BACK_An Unbelievable But True Love Story

by Scott Hildreth

  “I will,” I assured her. “In twenty-two days.”

  She shot from her seat. Her eyes did little to hide the anger that was building inside of her. She folded her arms over her chest and let out breath. “You’re not going to do it?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  She cocked her hip. “Seriously?”

  “Your little tricks won’t work with me, Jess.”

  “You’ll let me give you a blowjob, but I can’t have any dick?” she seethed. “What kind of a crappy deal is that?”

  I stuffed myself back into my pants and buckled my belt. “It was your idea, not mine.”

  She grabbed her coat from the arm of the couch. “I’m leaving,” she huffed.

  “Don’t leave mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” she replied. “I’m horny. You’re not going to fix it. So, I’m going to take care of it myself.”

  She put on her coat, turned toward the door, and then glanced over her shoulder. “And, you can’t watch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I needed to publish Baby Girl III but couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around the concept of releasing it. My focus was Jess, and I expected it would be for some time. Nonetheless, I sat in front of the computer and pecked at the keys.

  The eastern sky began to turn orange. The four-story building across the street blocked horizon, but it didn’t obstruct the sun’s glow in the sky.

  I enjoyed rising early, often as soon as four am. It allowed me to watch the sunrise and the sunset each day. To give away one of God’s gifts by sleeping through it had always seemed ridiculous to me.

  After the sun cleared the top of the adjoining building, I shifted my focus back to my work.

  A knock at the door caused me to damned near piss my pants. I’d heard similar knocks in the past, and they’d always been the precursor to me being arrested.

  I moved into the third-floor loft for many reasons, the primary reason being security. My experience with the federal government taught me a considerable amount about their practices, policies, and procedures.

  During the trial, I learned that over the course of the ATF’s investigation, one of their agents moved in across the street from me. At the time, I lived in one of Wichita’s most affluent neighborhoods, in a five-bedroom, five-bathroom home. My location didn’t prevent them from infiltrating the neighborhood.

  The agent drove a car like mine, but it was black. He waved every morning when he left for work, and every afternoon when he returned. I didn’t know it at the time, but when he was at home, he listen to my conversations with a parabolic microphone.

  Those conversations allowed the ATF to obtain a search warrant that gave them permission to fit my home with a listening device. A GPS locator was then put on my car.

  The thought of those types of things happening to me again sickened me.

  So, after my release from prison, I moved into the loft. The building had a security system. To get inside the front door, a code was required. Then, to get to anyone’s condo, the visitor would have to know exactly where their respective home was located.

  The parking garage was also secured with electronic gates and a code. It was outfitted with security cameras. From my third-floor vantage point, no one could sneak up on me without me seeing them first.

  The twelve-inch thick concrete walls and two-inch thick glass prevented anyone from listening in with a parabolic device.

  In short, living there gave me a sense of security. One that I now believed to be false.

  I slipped off my stool, tip-toed toward the door, and tried to mentally prepare for what was on the other side. With a racing heart and frayed nerves, I took one cautious step after the other.

  Then, the knock came again.

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  It was a few minutes past sunrise. Regardless of the time of day, there was only one type of person who knocked like that, and they’d been trained to.

  A cop.

  When I reached the door, I peered through the peep hole, fully expecting to either see a badge or nothing at all.

  Much to my surprise, I saw neither.

  What I did see, however, surprised me.

  It was Jess, and she looked like a hobo.

  I pulled the door open. “What the fuck’s with the cop knock, little girl?”

  “Thirty days is up, asshole,” she said, stomping past me as she spoke. “Get undressed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After making it through the thirty-day no-sex test, Jess had the courage of a Marine that had just completed basic training. She didn’t realize that I’d been somewhat reserved since the day she met me, but she was about to find out.

  I doubted I’d ever admit it, but I was in love with Jess long before we met the second time. I was simply too afraid to admit it. I now felt like we’d been in a relationship for years. A relationship without sex.

  I turned to face her as she made her way across the living room floor. “I told you that you made a deal with the devil. Now you’re going to find out what I meant.”

  As she walked toward my bedroom, she raised her hand in the air and waved it from side-to-side. “Blah, blah, blah.”

  “When do you have to be to work?” I asked.

  She stopped at the foot of my bed and kicked off her flip-flops. “I took the day off.”

  She dropped her purse on the floor and took off the loose-fitting jacket she wore. Beneath it, she was wearing a wife beater and no bra. Before I made it to the bedroom door, her sweat pants were on the floor at her feet.

  Now standing in her panties and a sheer ribbed tank top, she slid a hair tie from her wrist and pulled her golden locks into a ponytail.

  “Good thing,” I said. “Because when I’m done with you, you’re going to need to get one of the fellas in maintenance to wheel you out of here in a wheel barrow.”

  She faced me. “What does that mean?”

  “You won’t walk out,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Promises, promises.”

  I stepped into the bedroom. “Can you count?”

  “Uhhm. Yeah. I might be blond, but I’m not dumb.”

  “Up until today, how many orgasms have you had during the course of sex?”

  She scrunched her nose. “From the first time I had sex until the last time? All of them bundled up?”

  “No, dork. In one sexual session. How many?”

  Her gaze dropped to the bed. After a moment, she looked at me. “I dunno. Maybe like one and a half. One good one and then one of those stupid little things that make you kind of shudder.”

  I chuckled. “One and a possible, huh?”

  She seemed confused. “Yeah. I’d say so. Why?”

  “Well, little miss smart ass. Today, you’re going to count ‘em. Every damned one of ‘em. That’s your assignment.”

  “Shouldn’t be tough,” she said, wagging the fingers of her right hand in the air. “I’ve got five fingers right here.”

  I pulled off my shirt and tossed it at the foot of the bed. “You’ll need your toes for this little adventure.”

  She shot me a look. “Whatever.”

  “You ready to start this little adventure?” I asked.

  “There’s one thing. My Mirena got messed up and I got an infection. They had to remove it.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. The look on my face must have warned her. She continued without me asking for further explanation.

  “It’s an IUD.”

  My stare of confusion continued.

  “Birth control,” she said. “I’m not on birth control. We’ll need to use a condom.”

  “I don’t even know how to operate one of those things. Condoms are for guys who fuck prostitutes. If I’m having sex with you, it means I’m committing to have children with you. That’s how it works. It’s all by God’s design.”

  She looked at me as if I were insane. “You want children? You’ve already got three. I’ve got two.”


  “I’m committed to you, and to this relationship. I told you once, in my mind, we’re married. So, yes. I’m ready to have children with you.”

  She slumped her shoulders in defeat. “Okay.”

  I changed my tone of voice to what my mother called my voice of authority, and what my children called my mean voice. “With each orgasm you have, you’ll shout out the number. Understand?”

  She simply stared back at me with wide eyes.

  “Do. You. Understand?” I said, barking out each word as if it were a command.

  “Yes,” she responded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “If you do not, I will slap my right hand across your ass to remind you.”

  She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  I pulled off my sweats, tossed them aside, and reached for her ponytail. With her hair gripped firmly in my hand, I pressed my mouth hard against hers and kissed her like it would be our last. Her knees went weak during the kiss, and when they did, I bent her over the bed.

  I didn’t need to go thirty days without sex to know I wanted to spend my life with Jess. I’d done the exercise for her. I felt I’d loved Jess for quite some time, but simply wasn’t willing to admit it. The instant I penetrated her, I was certain I loved her.

  What we shared during that instant was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My heart swelled with emotion. Dumbfounded by the feelings that rushed through me, I paused. I was right where I needed to spend the rest of my life, that much I was sure of.

  After clearing my head of thoughts of my love for her, I forced myself to come to the realization that the day’s sexual adventure was going to be about her, and not me.

  So, using her own words, I began to give it to her like a boss.

  Thirty seconds later, she shouted.

  “One!”

  I continued at the same pace. It wasn’t slow and steady, nor was it rough. It was a predictable rhythm that allowed her to anticipate my strokes, yet firm enough that she was well aware of who was in charge of the situation.

  To help her along, I pressed my hips firmly against her ass cheeks, turned her head to the side, and kissed her deeply. Halfway through that passionate kiss, she bellowed out the number two into my open mouth.

  I picked her up and laid her onto the bed. “Open the blinds and look down at the parking lot,” I said. “Tell me if you see any cops on horses.”

  She was struggling to catch her breath. “Cops on horses?”

  “Cops on fucking horses, Jess. You know what a cop is, right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And, a horse?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Look for em. Let me know if you see any.”

  She opened the blinds and peered out into the street. I climbed onto the bed, gripped her waist in my hands, and guided myself into her. Upon penetrating her fully, the breath shot from her lungs.

  “Do not turn around,” I said in a demanding tone.

  I knew Jess well enough to know simply gazing through the glass and into the morning traffic while we had sex would be enough to drive her sexual senses wild. From the passerby’s vantage point, they could see nothing.

  Jess, on the other hand, could see everything. And, all the while, she’d wonder who was watching.

  While she looked for something that didn’t exist, I pounded myself into her with great passion.

  “Three!” she howled.

  Five minutes later, she shouted again. “Four!”

  I continued until she got to number six. When she did, forty minutes had passed since we started. Taking her shaking legs into consideration, I rolled her onto her back and gave her a short rest.

  Once again struggling to catch her breath, she looked at me with wide eyes. Her face was covered with concern.

  “You’re…not even…breathing hard,” she panted.

  I gestured toward the exercise equipment in the corner of my bedroom. “I spend plenty of time in that corner making sure I’m in good shape.”

  At the time, I weighed one hundred and eighty-eight pounds and had six percent bodyfat. I was the epitome of good health. Additionally, my will was so strong that I could have sex for as long as I wanted without reaching climax. It wasn’t always fun to go forever without a release, but if need be, I certainly could.

  On that day, I had a point to prove, and I intended to do just that.

  I swept my hand over her cheek and kissed her lightly. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m good,” she said. “That was crazy. I’ve never had four orgasms in one day, let alone at once. That was insane.”

  I let out a laugh. “We’re far from done.”

  Her eyes shot wide. “Huh?”

  I pushed her left leg to the side and nestled my hips between her thighs. “Ankles to your ears, my dear.”

  In a matter of seconds, she barked out numbers five, six and seven. After changing positions, she coughed out eight and nine.

  Number nine, for whatever reason, drained her level of energy to nothing. While she stared blankly at the ceiling, I walked to the kitchen, got a yogurt, and a bottle of water.

  “Eat this, and drink this,” I said.

  She exhaled heavily. “My leg’s got a huge cramp in it. That was insane,” she said. “It sucked the energy right out of me. Like, drained me.”

  “The protein and calcium will make you feel better,” I said. “The little bit of carbs it has will give you enough energy to continue.”

  She swallowed the spoonful of the coconut yogurt and then looked at me with eyes that were filled with fear. “Continue? I need a nap. Aren’t we done?”

  I laughed a sinister laugh. “Not even close.”

  She glared at me. “Really?”

  “Your little mouth got you into trouble, Kelli,” I said.

  “Oh Lord,” she said.

  I nodded. “Oh Lord is right.”

  At one o’clock that afternoon, she shouted out seventeen! When she did, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d proved my point, and that she’d had enough.

  As we laid side-by-side in the bed, her muscles quivered. “Don’t touch me. Don’t even talk to me,” she said. “Just be quiet and let me enjoy this.”

  “Catch your breath,” I said. “Then we’ll go take a shower.”

  “Shhh. Don’t talk.”

  We laid silently at each other’s sides for some time with her simply staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, she tilted her head to the side. “I really need to pee,” she said. “But I’m sure I won’t be able to walk over there.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  She shifted her eyes to the ceiling. “You’re insane.”

  “I warned you,” I said.

  “When?”

  “I said you made a deal with the devil.”

  “I thought you were joking,” she said.

  “I don’t joke.”

  “Ever?”

  “Rarely,” I responded.

  She looked at me out of the sides of her eyes. “I’ll remember that.”

  “After that shower, we’ll get started again,” I said.

  She gave me a bug-eyed look.

  I kissed her and then smiled. “That, my dear, was a joke.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I modified Baby Girl III to include a chapter of Kelli counting orgasms no differently than Jessica did. After reading the manuscript one last time, I published it, satisfied that it was exactly what I wanted it to be.

  In the time that followed, we saw each other daily. I couldn’t imagine life any other way. Her presence was exactly what I needed. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt like my life was complete.

  Furthermore, for the first time in my life, I was certain I had found love. Having found it, I was further certain everything I had in the past was nothing more than me settling. Jessica’s existence provided me with something I couldn’t explain. It was as if her simply being at my s
ide gave me the last piece of my life’s puzzle, completing an unfinished picture that had been missing a chunk for my entire life.

  Looking at my life with her in it, I could see my future with clarity. In the past, it had been jumbled and incomplete.

  She was my missing puzzle piece.

  She had shielded her children from me – and me from them – since we met the first time. During the days, they were at daycare. Her daytime schedule at work varied considerably and the time we spent together was primarily during the day, when her calendar allowed us to.

  A few hours in the morning before she went to work was typical. She would also walk to my house from work when she had a break, which was oftentimes an hour or two during midday. Then, in the evening, just before the children were released from daycare, she would stop by for a few minutes.

  We typically chose a weekend evening to spend together, with her opting to get a sitter for a few hours. Her children were an important part of her life, and she cherished them. Although I was anxious to meet them, I wanted to do so when she was comfortable, and not a day sooner.

  A week or so after the thirty-day mark, she discussed having me meet the children. Eventually we chose the upcoming Saturday, deciding we’d all go to lunch together. The weather was supposed to be unseasonably warm and should be a great day for us all.

  On the Friday that preceded the weekend in question, she called, frantic.

  I learned during the course of that conversation that the sitter she had been using was the mother of her children’s father. The father, her former abusive boyfriend, had been out of the picture in respect to the children and their care. His mother, unbeknownst to me, continued to have contact with them despite her son’s lack of involvement in their lives.

  On that night, however, her ex was in the picture. In fact, he was creating complications with her dropping the children off.

  I’d seen tears seep from the corners of Jess’ eyes on a few occasions. She had cried in my presence on the night we met, and on one other occasion, when we parted ways. I had not, however, heard her cry. I hadn’t experienced the emotion of feeling the need to care for her, and not being able to do so.