by J. C. Grant
“I need it now. I told her tomorrow, but I need it now.”
“Okay,” I huffed, annoyed with how hard she was pushing Austin’s career. “Give me a sec.”
Going into our bedroom, I grabbed her laptop—the one I bought her. It took me about two seconds to find the file, but what got my attention was the three hundred and eighty files that were from the day we returned home after getting married. I quickly sent the file to Elaine, made sure she got it, then hung up and proceeded to go through Austin's laptop.
Thirty minutes later, my stomach was in knots. I found tons of pics of her at clubs and parties with other guys, a hundred plus shirtless pics from a few different guys, but what really bothered me were the fifty-six dick pics and twenty-nine up-close pics of Austin's cunt.
A barrage of images flashed through my mind: Austin lying in bed taking pics of her sweet pussy for someone else, her hand stroking those dicks, her mouth…
Fuck, stop it!
Taking a deep breath, I tried to rationalize it.
Girls used to send me nude pics all the time; it meant nothing. In fact, I hadn't fucked ninety-nine percent of 'em.
The dick pics I can ignore. They're nowhere as big as me, anyway.
As I stared at one of her cunt shots, liquid lava burned through me. My eyes closed as I tried to find a reason for her having them that didn't gut me.
She'd positioned her finger between her lips, so technically you couldn't see anything.
Technically...
She never sent them to anyone, I lied to myself.
Austin’s very tasteful and artistic pussy shots, I could handle.
When I opened the last file, I felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. All that convincing myself I could deal crumbled as I watched Austin's sweet little tongue reach out, licking the head of some guys dick.
“Yeah, that's hot, do it again.”
At the guys whispered words, she did, and my heart twisted violently, as if someone was actually wringing it with two hands.
Then those full lips, the ones I kissed daily, the ones that eagerly wrapped around my cock, parted, taking another man's dick into her mouth, sucking the head like a lollipop. The soft smacking sound only adding to my torment.
My insides twisted viciously as I watched and listened to Austin's mouth slide up and down someone else's cock. A dozen different emotions slammed around inside me, the strongest of them being a war between disbelief and rage.
Austin
When I entered the kitchen, two things struck me. David wasn't making our dinner, and the house was eerily quiet.
“Hey, babe?” I called, opening the fridge.
When I didn't get a response, I scanned the massive room, finding David slouched on the couch, shirtless, looking at my laptop.
"Babe?" I called again.
When he wouldn't respond or look at me, I set my purse on the kitchen counter and made my way across the room. When I got close, he turned, pinning me with a look I didn't recognize, but I saw the briefest flash of pain in his eyes. Confused, I glanced at the computer screen, searching for answers. I could see what looked like a girl’s head bobbing up and down.
“Are you watching porn?” I asked, both surprised and offended. “I didn't think you liked porn.”
“I don't. Do you?” His tone was unreadable, but his mood, energy... Everything was off.
“No,” I answered hesitantly, unsure what was going on. “I'm not much of a spectator. I'd rather actually have sex—with you,” I added, getting annoyed that he was still watching it. “And... it’s just not hot.”
“You should watch this. This girl’s really hot.”
Something in his voice set my nerves on edge, making my heart rate kick up.
Slowly, I moved behind him, getting a better view of the screen. It only took me a few seconds to recognize the girl in the video.
It was me.
My heart pounded in my chest and my body flashed with heat as panic gripped me.
“Where did you get this? How did you find this? Where did you find this?” I stumbled out, horrified.
“On your laptop.”
“What?” I asked, finally breaking out of my shocked stupor, frantically rounding the couch to stop it. “Where—where did it come from?”
“It apparently came from your cell phone. The day we came home.” His voice was even, but the accusation was clear.
“Turn it off!" I shrieked, reaching for the laptop.
His big hands wrapped around my wrists, stopping me. Turning to him, I started to protest, but his rigid features, cold gaze, and rough warning squeeze made me pause.
He was barely restraining his fury.
The pressure of his grip directed me, gently forcing me to sit down next to him.
“Were you hiding this from me?” His voice was still level, but had a hard edge.
“What?” I struggled to understand what he was asking me.
It was pure chaos inside me, a dozen conflicting emotions and thoughts. But the continued pressure from David's firm grip brought things into focus, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in, settling over me like a lead blanket.
David thinks it's mine, that I've been hiding it.
My eyes stung with the implications of that.
“David—” I breathed.
“It was recorded two years and ten months ago,” he cut me off. “Fergus is gonna get back to me with the rest of the information.” He paused. “Do you want to tell me now who's in the video?”
I felt helpless.
And utterly devastated.
Devastated it existed, that David had seen me like that with someone else. I couldn't imagine how he felt. Not to mention, I wasn’t aware the video had been made, much less who made it.
How the fuck am I going to convince him of that?
“I... I don't—I didn’t make the video.” My voice quivered, and my face heated as my anxiety grew.
I'd been worried about his reaction to the nude pics, and this was so much worse. As I watched him, I knew this might be the thing that pushed him too far, the thing that pushed him away from me.
“Yeah, I got that from listening to it.” He held my stare; the hurt and anger in those dark eyes gutted me. “I'm just wondering if you knew about it after the fact and wanted to keep it.”
He let go of my wrists and pushed the audio on my laptop, playing it again.
Shame, regret, and shear horror coiled tight inside me as moans and the wet sucking sounds of my mouth around someone else's cock met my ears. Watching myself do that, knowing David had seen it, was seeing it... There weren't words to describe how I felt.
And I didn't have a clue who the fuck it was.
Until I heard myself complain.
“What are you doing, writing a sonnet? Get off my phone.”
Oh. My. God.
My body slumped down in defeat as my tears spilled over, streaming down my face.
“You know who it is now,” he stated quietly.
“Yes,” I barely forced past my lips. I couldn't believe he'd recorded me without my knowledge.
“Do you want to tell me?” David's voice was eerily calm.
“No,” I whispered as my gaze slowly slid from the screen to him.
His jaw clenched and his lips pursed as he tried to control his anger. I could see it simmering under the surface, ready to explode.
The silence between us was tense and heavy as the sounds of the video filled the room. I was desperate to stop it, but I was afraid it would set David off. So I did nothing.
Once the video ended, David remained silent, and panic rose inside me.
Eventually, he asked softly, “Why did you transfer all of this onto your laptop? Were you trying to hide it from me?”
His stoic expression had cracked for the briefest moment, but I saw it: pain and betrayal. My chest tightened viciously at the thought of losing him. In that moment, I knew I would do anything to fix it.
“No.
Yes—I wasn't sure what all was in there,” I tried to explain. “But I didn't know that was in there. I swear.”
He studied me, my tears still streaming down my face.
“Okay.”
Okay?
He blew out a harsh breath before he continued, “When I first saw it, I…” He stopped, as if reconsidering his approach. “I've been watching it for two hours. So, I've worked through a range of emotions.”
I couldn't help but wonder what he did, what his first reaction was. All of a sudden, the rest of his words sank in, and a sob broke free, knowing David had watched it over and over.
“Not gonna lie, those artistic shots of your cunt, hurt.” His accusing gaze pinned me in place. It took everything in me not to buckle under the weight. "I mean they're gorgeous. I'd fucking frame those—put 'em in my office. It hurts that you sent them to someone who’s not me.”
“David,” I whispered, but I didn't know what to say.
“I know we have to deal with our pasts. We have to deal with Dawn and Zach. I know neither of us are fucking virgins... Still fucking hurts.” He paused, holding my gaze. Then his tone shifted, somewhere between business and cold. “So, I went through everything that came from your phone. Everything that's not sexual, or you with another guy is in a folder—just so you know, there’re only forty. The rest are right here.”
He pointed to a folder labeled HISTORY.
“After I find out who's in the video and how many copies there are floating around, I'm deleting everything. Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was challenging.
“No,” I whispered.
I couldn't understand how he would be able to find out any of that. But I didn't think there were any copies floating around, because I knew that guy; he was one of the good ones.
“I'm sorry.”
“You didn't know. I can tell you didn't know.” His voice was kind, understanding. “But I wanna know who it was. Who recorded you?”
Unable to hold his intense gaze, my eyes darted down to my lap as I quietly admitted, “It was Ryan.”
As the silence grew between us, my eyes closed in dread as I waited for David to put it together.
“Ryan who?” David's voice was deadly calm.
Swallowing thickly, I looked up at him from under my eyelashes, hesitantly meeting his gaze, then I admitted, “You met him... at Boa.”
His expression hardened.
“Him?”
I stared at him, startled by the amount of fury, disdain, and disbelief in one whispered word.
He stood abruptly, stalking away, barely suppressed rage radiating off him. My anxiety heightened as he angrily paced the living area. After what felt like an eternity, he finally came to a stop at the far wall behind the couch, bracing his hands against the dark wood console.
I watched him intently.
His broad, bare back to me, the honed planes of muscles, strained and taut, his head hanging down. His sculpted body made a strangely arousing image of a man in mourning. Then my eyes landed on the two large urns—where there had always been four.
“What if that's on the fucking Internet?” he muttered, shaking his head slightly.
“He wouldn't. He's not like that,” I assured David.
David turned to me then.
“He's not like that?” He stared at me in disbelief. “He took a fucking video of you without asking!”
“I know, but—” I tried.
“I mean, I get it. I do. You don't think I wanna film you sucking my dick?” He didn't wait for a response. “Of course I do! But I'm sure as fuck not gonna do it without you knowing! Any fucking asshole who would do that to you, would sure as fuck put it on the Internet."
“David—”
"And honestly”—his true feelings were pouring out now—“how do you think it makes me feel? I never thought you were the type of girl to do that—send pussy shots.”
My chest stung at the implication and knowing he saw me differently now.
“They meant nothing. It all meant less than nothing,” I swore.
He watched me; his expression was a mixture of disappointment and challenge. Then he exploded, “I was gone for two fucking nights, I didn't get any pics. Never even occurred to you! I don't even rank as high as these fucking assholes!"
I flinched at his words.
He was right.
When he was gone, it never crossed my mind to send him any sexy photos. Not once. But there was no comparison between David and anybody else as far as I was concerned.
"David, that's not true."
"Really? Because I didn't get any pics. In fact, the only time I've gotten any pics like that from you is when I sent them first. And that was the first time I've ever done anything like that."
"You're right,” I admitted. “I didn't think to send you any. But no one compares to you. And those pics... I mean,” I hesitated, afraid of telling him the truth. But I did anyway. “I haven't had sex with any of the people that sent dick pics. And I only sent three of the photos of me."
He studied me, taking in my words.
"I just want to mean more to you than anyone else."
The vulnerability in his tone... In an instant, I saw the unwanted, unloved, abandoned child in him. My heart twisted painfully in my chest as fresh tears filled my eyes.
“You do,” I promised.
“Well, it really doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“What do you need? What do you need me to do?”
He considered my question before he responded, “It’s probably just the video fucking with my head. I’ll work it out. You don't need to do anything."
But what I heard was: You can't do anything.
"David…” I started to ask the one thing that had been running through my mind: Are you going to leave me now? But instead, I asked, “Do you ever think you'll look at me the same again?"
He held my gaze as the silence stretched out between us.
And my fear grew.
"I wasn't lying,” he admitted softly. “There's nothing you could do that would make me not want you."
Perverse pleasure and hope swelled inside me. "Please, come here."
He pushed away from the console, coming around the couch to stand in front of me.
"I love you. That doesn't change anything," he said, pointing to the computer.
"Then show me," I pleaded.
His eyebrows drew together as he studied me, seriously considering my request. "Just... give me a minute."
As David turned his back on me, heading to our bedroom, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.
This was real.
I was going to lose him.
Stunned, I sat there, frozen in place, my world crumbling around me. My body felt weak and quivery, riddled with anxiety.
I didn't know—it could have been seconds or minutes when I finally realized I hadn't done anything wrong, other than not be a virgin.
Getting to my feet, I took a deep breath, and headed to our room with determination. What I was going to do, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t handle him walking away from me. Not even for a few minutes of space. I found him lying on our bed, face up, arms folded over his eyes.
"David, I didn't make that video. I didn't know it existed, so I sure as fuck wasn't saving it."
He let out a harsh breath but didn't move.
"I get that. It's just... seeing you like that. With someone else. It's really fucking with my head."
My hope plummeted with his admission.
"I know. I hate that you saw it. I hate that it exists. It fucking kills me that you saw me like that with someone else. I wish I'd never done anything before you. None of it meant anything to me."
He didn’t respond. As the silence drew out, my anxiety and fear escalated.
"It's kind of funny,” he huffed out humorlessly. "It's supposed to be me who has a sex tape—traditionally.” He fell silent, and I scrambled for what to say next, what to say to fix it. But before I c
ould come up with anything he continued quietly, “You know, it's one thing to know you've been with other men. It's a completely different thing seeing it."
My heart sank and the heavy knot in my stomach grew, but I was making my way toward him on my jelly legs.
"I'm so sorry," I begged, desperate for him to believe me as I crawled up onto the bed.
"Austin."
David's quiet protest just made me more determined, more reckless.
"Are you going to leave me?" I challenged as I straddled his legs, making my way up his body on my hands and knees.
He moved his arms then, looking at me. His eyebrows drew together, his expression was both disbelief and warning, but his eyes... they were deep pools of anguish.
"Fuck no."
The fierceness in his voice was calming, soothing. Easing my fears.
"Will you do something for me?" I questioned, tentatively, staring into his dark gaze. It was the closest thing to heartbroken I’d ever seen.
"Of course." His voice was soft and sincere, making my hope surge.
"Prove to me that you want me."
"Austin—"
"David, please."
Sex meant something to David, at least with me, and I knew if I could get him past that hurdle, we would be on our way to getting us back.
Maybe.
It was the only thing I knew to do.
When he showed no signs of giving in, I decided to tell him the truth.
"I'm scared you're gonna leave me,” I whispered around the lump in my throat. “Scared you won't want me anymore."
His features softened and he rasped, "You wanna know your mine?"
I nodded. “Need to know.”
"You sure?"
His gruff words sounded like a threat, sending my pulse racing.
I nodded.
"Get up."
Fear trickled through me at his hard command, but I obeyed, climbing out of bed, standing next to it.
"Strip."
Kicking off my flip-flops, I quickly pushed down my sweats and pulled off my tee.
"Lose the bra."
Immediately, I took it off, tossing it across the end of the bed, then waited for his next direction.
“Don't move,” he warned darkly before getting to his feet and leaving the room.