by J. C. Grant
Letting my racing pulse and breathing slow, I absorbed all the smells that were distinctly my wife.
I wanted to drown in her.
Shit, she fucked my plan to hell.
I'd planned to tell her about Dawn, confess my sins while she was lost in a lust haze, but as soon as her finger grazed her wet cunt, all coherent thought left me.
“You sore?” I murmured against her skin.
“Mmm-hmm.” Her body tensed and stretched under me.
“Good,” I rumbled in satisfaction. “Let's go shower.”
Easing out of her, I groaned at the sound of her tight cunt sucking at my cock. Her whimpered protest made me grin. She always wanted more, but after the grueling workout I put her through, she needed a break.
I stood and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower, adjusting the temperature. When I returned to the couch, she lifted her arms toward me with a smirk on her face. I scooped her worn-out body up, and her hands limply grasped my neck as I carried her into the shower.
“Where are you going?” she asked as I sat her on her feet and turned to step out.
“Sending someone for your bag.”
“Thanks, babe.” She turned away and into the spray.
I quickly grabbed my phone and texted Fergus.
David: Done with the car? Bag in
the back. Give it to the
valet.
3:56 PM.
I didn't wait for a reply, leaving my phone on the desk, I went to shower with my girl. My wife.
*****
“I'm gonna pick up dinner. You want anything specific?” I asked, sitting on the couch, cataloging every inch of her curves as she covered them. The same curves I'd spent thirty minutes washing, my fingers slipping over her soapy skin. She wasn't as covered as I would like, but it was better than that sports bra she tried to pass off as a shirt and the skin tight yoga pants she'd showed up in.
“Um. No.” She didn't look away from what she was doing. That shit annoyed me; I wanted her attention on me.
“You ready? I'll have our cars brought around.”
“Yeah,” she muttered, adjusting her leggings.
I called Fergus; he answeredpromptly.
“Yeah, Mrs. Taylor needs her car.” I watched her as I spoke. I could make out her black bra under her thin tee.
She better go straight home.
“It's done. I just need to get your phone set up so you can track it, but it's installed. Even a mechanic won't find it,” he assured me.
It was ridiculous how much better that made me feel.
“Great. Have mine brought up front too.”
“I'll let them know.”
I ended the call and glanced up, finding Austin looking at me questioningly like she knew something.
Maybe I was just paranoid.
“It'll be a couple minutes.” I went to the desk to get our rings, seeing her without hers... I didn't like it.
“Here.” I held hers out to her.
She took them with a smile. “These are awesome, besides being gorgeous they're like magical man-repellant. I got rid of two earlier just by flashing these babies,” she said holding her hand up in an exaggerated demonstration.
“Good to know.” I smirked, feeling much better with that knowledge, but I couldn't help but wonder why mine hadn't been as effective earlier.
She watched me for a moment and asked, “What's up?”
“Just looking for a number for a fencing company. We've got an electric fence around the backyard, I want a safety fence just so there's no accidents.” I didn't think of that prior to getting her wedding present, which was a big mistake on my part.
“Mmm, you're being weird.” She looked at me speculatively.
I was going to have to tell her about the other shit too, but I didn't want to dump it on her all at once. And I wanted us at home, in the same location for the night before I broached the topic. It could be a major obstacle. I didn't know how Austin would react, she could give me her controlled responses or she could seriously lose it, either way I knew her trust in me would be shaken. I was pissed Zach had called the one time this morning and I was furious about Dawn, it affected me in a way I wasn't prepared for. If Austin's reaction was anything like mine, we were going to have a very bad night.
CHAPTER TEN
When I walked into the house, I heard the TV. Setting the food on the kitchen island, I looked across the room and saw the top of Austin's head over the back of the couch.
“Sweet girl,” I called to her.
“Yeah, babe?” she responded, not looking at me.
“You want something to drink?” I tried again.
“No, I'm good.” Still not even a glance in my direction.
“I got you a triple dark-chocolate brownie cake.”
“Thanks, babe.”
She didn't sound mad, but I was a little paranoid that she was going to find out before I told her. And she wouldn't fucking look at me.
Giving up trying to be subtle, I asked, “What’re you doing?”
“Reading.” Her voice was quiet.
Relief coursed through me, realizing she was reading through the folder I gave her. Whether it was genuine interest or just a desire to please me, I'd take it either way. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
I plated up our food and took them over to her.
When she looked up, she gave me a sexy, mischievous smile. “I’m buying a Bentley for everyday of the week.”
A relieved and elated laugh bubbled up out of me.
She took the plate with a smirk and a lift to her eyebrow.
“Go for it,” I laughed as I sat next to her. “Actually, wait, so I can get a second garage built.”
She smirked and rolled her eyes.
“I'll have one built, just in case.”
“So what was going on this morning?” She wasted no time getting to the main event.
I sat back, getting comfortable, pulling my phone out of my pocket, tossing it on the ottoman.
“Well, Zach Stone for starters.” I debated telling her now and getting it over with, then chickened out.
Less than five minutes later, my phone started ringing. Again.
Fuck.
I hit ignore and focused on the TV.
“Thank you for reading the file,” I said quietly.
“Yeah, I’m sorry—”
My phone started ringing again. I was going to fucking smash it.
“Babe, just answer it.”
I hit ignore again.
“Babe—”
“Austin, I don't want to talk to anyone but you.”
I could feel her watching me, studying me.
This was the kind of shit I didn't want her keeping from me, but here I was.
“Austin.” I huffed out a breath. “Last Saturday—” My phone ringing again cut me off.
She leaned forward, snagging it off the ottoman, answered and pressed speaker, holding it out to me.
I froze.
I expected her to read the screen and drill me about who Dawn was, not answer the phone blindly.
Dread filled me. I felt helpless and desperate as I watched her.
“Taylor? Baby?”
Something in my chest clenched tight when I heard it—Dawns voice. The voice I'd once associated with pleasure, now filled me with a mixture of fury, fear and regret.
Austin's expression shifted to disbelief then horror. The phone shook in her hand as tears welled in her eyes as the voice continued on.
“Taylor?”
Grabbing the phone from her, I hit end.
“You are a piece of shit,” she whispered harshly. The venom in her voice broke my heart, and something in my chest twisted painfully.
She stood to walk away, the sight triggering something in me and I grabbed her arm. Hard. Desperate to keep her, to make her listen.
“It's nothing,” I tried to explain calmly, though I felt anything but. My heart was racing, blood pounding through my ears. “I wa
s trying to tell you when she called.”
“You are a fucking player! And I knew it!” she screamed, trying to pull away.
“Austin, listen.” I wasn't above begging.
She twisted hard, forcing me to let go or hurt her.
Facing me head on, she asked calmly, “Is she the reason you forwarded your calls? Because you didn’t want me to find out about her?”
“Yes,” I admitted quietly. “But—”
She turned, ignoring me, and picked up her plate, carrying it to the kitchen.
That small, civilized action gave me hope that she would listen, that she had some control over herself.
“Austin,” I tried again, “I haven't spoken to her or seen her since the last time—at my condo.”
She turned on me; the hate burning in her eyes made me step back. “That was your long-term fuck buddy? The bitch who sucked your dick six weeks ago?”
“Austin—” I tried.
“Was it?!” she screamed with so much rage, it was like seeing a complete stranger.
“Yes,” I whispered through quickening breaths.
Eventually she said, “Don't say another fucking word to me.” Her voice was low and calm, chilling my blood. It was like being in the eye of a storm.
She turned toward the kitchen again and I tried to think of what to say, how to get control of this. Of her. She was assuming the worst—something I could never do to her.
She looked furious.
And kinda crazy.
It was hot.
“She started calling me again—”
A loud crash cut me off.
Her plate and contents were skittering across the floor, fifteen feet in front of her. She was getting out of control fast. As hot as it was—her reacting so strongly, because of her jealousy—I was more scared of how far she would go and what the repercussions would be.
She started to turn to me, again, and I caught her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She let out a gut-wrenching scream as she thrashed, trying to break out of my grip. That scream made the cold knot in my stomach twist as I hauled her up, off her feet.
This had been our dynamic from the beginning—her running, me chasing. Fuck, I felt like she was always looking for a reason to leave me. There was no way, no circumstances in which I would allow that. Certainly not something that hadn't even happened, something that would never happen.
When her scream died down, I whispered harshly behind her ear, “Stop it, Austin. You are going to fucking listen to me! I have never cheated on you! Do you understand? I have not spoken to that girl in over seven weeks.”
Austin thrashed and kicked harder.
“Check my phone,” I implored.
“Fuck you, Taylor,” she sneered. Then her head came back, trying to head-butt me.
Goddamn it.
“Fucking, check my phone!” I yelled, frustrated and desperate. Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Calm the fuck down. You're not going anywhere. And neither am I.”
After several long moments, her breathing slowed. Then she went completely limp.
“I fucking hate you,” she whispered softly. The sincerity in her voice stabbed right through me. I clenched my jaw hard, trying to stamp down the sting in my eyes.
“I didn't cheat, Austin. I haven't talked to her. Please, just listen to me,” I begged, trying to make this right. When she didn't respond, I continued. “She started calling on Saturday, after the pics from the club went public. It was only a couple times, but after the pics from the store... it got worse. Eighty times so far, today.”
She stayed silent and motionless, aside from her shuddering breaths, so I went on. “If it was just me—” I paused, rethinking my approach. “I called Fergus today, not just because of Zach, but because of her. She threatened you this morning in the voicemails.”
“What?”
“She threatened you—in more than one message. Our lawyer filed for a restraining order today. For both of us. She's completely out of her fucking mind.”
“Seriously?” Her voice was cautious. “You haven't seen her since the last time you told me about? At your condo six weeks ago?”
I just told her the bitch threatened her, and she is concerned about when I saw her last.
I fucking love how jealous she is.
“I think it's closer to eight weeks now.” I couldn't stop the smile from forming on my face. Fuck, it felt good. Her being possessive of me gave me a perverse, bone-deep satisfaction. “I haven't spoken to her. I haven't seen her. Haven't texted her.”
Letting her go, I turned her around. She had tearstains streaked down her face with fresh ones falling, and I unraveled.
“Sweetheart.” I slid my hands along her jaw, my thumbs gently brushing her tears away from her flawless skin. “I'd never cheat on you,” I said hoarsely. “I promise you that. I'll do everything possible to protect you.”
I bent down until I was eye-level with her, forcing her to look at me.
“She's crazy?” She finally sounded concerned.
I nodded. “Doesn't matter, though. She crossed a line, one she isn't coming back from. But this won't touch you. I have everything taken care of.”
“Is that what your freak out was about this morning?”
“Yeah, and that’s why Fergus was here. You're safe, I'll make sure of it.” I studied her face. “But yeah, I freaked,” I admitted softly, my thumbs still sweeping over her cheeks unconsciously. I leaned in, tasting her tears as my mouth moved over hers, gently coaxing.
Her lips were unmoving, unresponsive, and I drew back, searching her eyes.
All I found was genuine mistrust.
“Nothing's been going on?” she asked.
My eyes closed, blocking out her expression, unwilling to see it directed at me.
Fuck.
I didn't understand how much it would hurt for her to actually think I could do that to her. I opened my eyes and grabbed her shoulders, silently begging her to believe me.
“Of course not. Austin, no. Just—check my phone,” I implored again, turning to get it. It was unbearable having her look at me like I betrayed her.
“I need to clean this up.” I heard her mumble.
“Leave it. Come here.” I looked behind me and felt a sharp twinge in my chest. She looked lost standing there. I swallowed, then whispered thickly, “Come here. I'll clean it.”
Complying, she lifelessly followed me, sitting next to me on the couch, dejected. I pulled up my call log and showed her all the calls from my “fuck buddy.”
“Her name is Dawn?” The disdain in her voice gave me a depraved thrill.
How fucked up was that? Seeing her hurt was killing me. Seeing her not trust me was ripping my heart out. But seeing her jealous made me fucking hard.
“Yeah.”
“Did you call her sweet girl?”
“No. I didn't. You're the only person I've ever called that. And you know why.” Me calling Dawn sweet girl was an offensive suggestion. I had never given anyone a pet name; it wasn't my style. “Austin, I saw her once a month at the most.”
“For how long?”
I blew out a breath, trying to remember. I didn't want to get it wrong and have Austin second-guessing everything I said for the rest of my life.
“Just a second.” I quickly texted Aaron. “I'll know in a minute.”
“You don't know? But Aaron does?” Disbelief was clear in her voice.
“Yeah. He'll know when the NDA was signed.”
She looked at me, her expression unreadable.
“We don't have a NDA,” she said quietly. “We should have one, shouldn't we?”
The question made me feel like we just took two-steps back—back to her wanting to keep our relationship a secret. “Why? An NDA is to cover someone when they're an asshole or into some seriously freaky shit. I'd love it if you talked about our sex life.” Smirking, I continued. “Tell everyone how you can't get enough of my cock.” When she didn't react, I asked, “Did y
ou have one with Zach?”
“So you had one because you did freaky shit with her?” she asked accusingly, ignoring my question completely.
“Asshole,” I clarified. “What would you think of a guy who didn't want to see you more than once a month, and only to fuck? It was to protect the All-American Sweetheart image my agent and Elaine created.”
My phone chimed and I handed it to Austin.
“Seventeen months,” she muttered, staring at the screen.
I could see her thinking—about what, I didn't know, but with the day I'd had, it wouldn't be good.
“That's a long time,” she whispered, sounding defeated.
My nose stung and my heart leaped in a desperate panic. This stress was too much for her. I could see her slowing shutting down.
“Hey.” I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I only saw her every other month during the season. I guarantee, I've fucked you more times in ten days than I fucked her in seventeen months.”
Her face twisted into a sick expression, letting me know I hadn't used the best words in this situation.
“Sweetheart—” I tried.
“Just—” she cut me off, her temper flaring. Eventually, she continued quietly. “That's a long time, David. You must have liked her more than just as a fuck buddy.”
My jaw clenched tight. She looked insecure and I fucking hated it. She wasn't the type to respond to someone else building her up. She needed to feel secure about us on her own, and Dawn had just taken that away from her. From us.
“I only saw her a couple of hours, every other month. We had sex. We didn't hang out. She always acted like she had something else going on, trying to make me jealous. Curious. Something.” I wasn't explaining it right. It wasn't a relationship. It was casual sex—infrequent casual sex.
“You didn't care?”
“No. Why would I? It was casual sex with an NDA agreement, which included them not engaging in sexual activity with anyone else. But I always wore a condom, and made them get tested every month.”
“We should get tested.” Her voice was small and disappointed.
Ah, fuck...
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. My head fell forward, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead as I berated myself.