Judas

by Lacey-Payne, Chandler

  "Why can't you? What are you afraid of?"

  He had to be honest. With her, and with himself. "Losing you."

  "That's what I don't understand. I'm here. I haven't left yet, so what makes you think I would?"

  She was confused but he knew he couldn't let this conversation continue. He knew where it was leading, at least for him, and he had no intention of allowing it.

  "It's not that simple, doll. Just know it isn't you. It's nothing you can change or fix."

  She considered his words, chewing her lip before finally asking. "It's part of you. Why would I want to?"

  That was a good question. One he already knew the answer to and he also knew that she wasn't ready to hear it. "I don't want to talk about it."

  “Of course, not. What was I thinking?” she sighed, leaning her head against his chest.

  He stroked her hair as he held her, “I'm sorry.”

  “Do you even know how it feels to love someone and to know they have a whole separate life that you're not a part of? That someone gives you something I obviously can't and I don't even get to know what that is?” she was pleading with him to tell her.

  “No, I don't,” he said quietly, shaking his head. He did the only thing he could do. He leaned in and kissed her softly, trying his best to comfort her. In reality, he needed just as much comfort right now.

  He was tired of the same questions, the same topic. She was never going to accept that he couldn't tell her and he wouldn't allow her to pry. He had given her as much of the truth as he could and he never blatantly lied to her. Sure, he kept some things to himself, but those were his demons and he had a right to them. He just wished he could make her understand how insignificant it all really was when compared to the life he shared with her. He respected and adored his wife and he needed her. Way more than she knew.

  The day before they were scheduled to leave for Florida, Adessa caught a stomach bug. Judas urged her to see the doctor but she swore that she just needed rest and it would pass. He called his Mother to let her know they wouldn't make it for Christmas, and she had been furious with him for not coming alone. “She can't be too sick if she won't see a doctor,” his mother scolded.

  “She's stubborn, Mother. You should be able to understand that,” he sniped back.

  She wasn't going to back down. “What I understand is that you are allowing your wife to call the shots. Are you even a man anymore, Judas?”

  And that was about all he could take of her. “Mother, my wife isn't feeling well, we are not coming to Christmas. There is nothing more to say,” he snapped.

  “What of the gifts? Your father and I spent a small fortune on the two of you,” she pouted, trying to buy him.

  He wasn't for sale. He put on a sickeningly sweet voice and retorted, “That depends, is there room for all of them up your ass? Or is your head taking up too much space in there?”

  With that, he hung up on her and went to check on his wife. She was still very nauseated and was unable to lift her head from the pillow. She was holding nothing down, and he was deeply concerned that she would dehydrate.

  He got a cool, damp cloth and began to stroke her forehead and cheeks, as he sat on the edge of their bed. A small trash can had been placed beside her but so far, she had made it to the toilet each time. He hated seeing her like this and he felt completely helpless to save her. The last time he saw a woman this sick, it was Leanna and she was pregnant.

  He hoped that wasn't the case with Adessa and she had told him she didn't believe she was. He had no choice but to dismiss it. Surely she wouldn't keep something like that from him if she knew. He slipped into the bed, trying not to disturb her as she slept. They both napped peacefully all afternoon but when she woke, the vomiting began again.

  She was weak and pale and he had held her hand while he read a few chapters of her romance novel. Her eyes didn't open but he knew she was listening, probably enjoying the fact he had opened the book at a particularly mushy part. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be caught dead with a girl book in his hand, but here he sat, reading as if the words would somehow heal his wife.

  He saw her eyes flutter open as he read the part where the apparent hero told the girl he loved her and his pulse began to quicken, as he felt her eyes on him. He continued reading, silently choking on each word as he finished the chapter. He leaned in and kissed her forehead as he closed the book.

  “I've got you some broth, doll. Please try to sip,” he said, offering her the liquid through a thin straw. “That's it baby, good girl,” he encouraged her as she took two swallows. Her eyes fluttered closed again and she slept the rest of the day. It was evening before he left the room and wandered downstairs to get himself something to eat. He heated leftovers and brought his plate back to their room to eat. Despite the bell he had placed on the table for her, he didn't want to be too far if she needed him.

  He soon learned that eating anywhere near her was a big mistake. The smell of his reheated meal made her ill and before he could put the plate aside, she was scrambling to the toilet again. He hurried into the small room to grab her hair, pulling it back from her beautiful face as she heaved. It was dark outside before he finally went down to smoke and nearly midnight when he gave up the quiet vigil and went to sleep in the chair beside the bed.

  She was still sick the following day. Her stomach hadn't settled, so he heated more broth for her to sip. She sat up in bed, willing herself to hold it down as the warm liquid coated her scratchy throat. She felt like she had slept for years, and she was sorry she missed so much time with him. He had read to her for hours, even the good scenes, and though her body was frail and weak, her heart was full. She could feel how much he adored her and it showed in the tender way he had cared for her.

  That evening, he carried her downstairs to sit by the tree to open their gifts. She had bought him Gucci cufflinks that were monogrammed with his initials and immediately snapped them on with pride. When she un-wrapped his gift, tears sprang to her eyes.

  It was a simple gold chain that held an intricately detailed locket. Tiny diamonds and sapphires lined the edges, and it featured a four karat diamond which matched her engagement ring. It was the one from the jewelry store that she had pretended to not be interested in when she picked out her ring.

  The man was amazing. She opened it to reveal the words "My Doll", which were inscribed inside, next to a picture of her that had been taken a few weeks back.

  "My god, Judas!" she gasped as her trembling fingers stroked the shiny metal.

  "Don't say it." he warned playfully, knowing she was about to ask what he had spent.

  "It's beautiful. How did you know?" she whispered through her tears.

  He chuckled and gave her a playful shrug. “I know my girl. That's how.”

  She laughed softly as her arms circled his neck, hugging him tight. “Thank you so much.”

  Merry Christmas, baby." he smiled as he lifted the ornate oval locket from the small box. He brushed her hair aside and fastened it around her neck and even in her pajamas, with rumpled hair, she looked gorgeous wearing it. She wasn't up to making love that night, so he had held her while they talked. His fingers twirled absently through her ruby strands as she laid close to him. "I'm sorry I haven't been much company."

  "You need the rest. Don't worry about me." he murmured.

  She twisted her head to look up at him. "Thank you for taking care of me."

  He smiled warmly down at her. "I will always take care of you." His words were sincere and as always, she couldn't help but melt against him. No matter what he told her from that point on, she believed he loved her and she would make him proud of her. She would rest and regain her strength and spend every moment trying to be whatever it was that he needed. She had taken him as is, and if this was what he was, then she was a very lucky woman.

  “I love you, Judas,” she whispered warmly against his throat, not even expecting a reply.

  He smiled softly as he nodded, “I know,
baby. And that means everything to me.”

  He was so stubborn and so proud but he didn't have to admit it. It no longer mattered to her whether he said the words. He was hers, just as she was his.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and he eventually carried her to bed because when she woke sometime later, she was tucked warmly into bed with fresh, clean sheets. He was next to her, but not touching and she instinctively moved to him. Within the week, she was finally feeling better and the color had returned to her cheeks. She survived the Christmas plague, and she knew that whatever else that came, they would weather it together.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It was January now and fresh snow blanketed the ground. The relentless cold made Judas want to stay indoors until it was warm again. He never really had much patience for snow or even cold weather after Christmas. Adessa was working her shift, and he was playing a game on his xbox to keep himself entertained while she was away. It had become a ritual now, at least until he beat the next few levels. All of his alone time was poured into the little black box in front of him. His cell phone rang, startling him. He quickly paused the game, expecting to hear his wife's voice at the other end but it wasn't Adessa.

  "Hey, J. Just checking in. Everything okay?" she asked sweetly.

  The air left the room in that moment. He hesitated several seconds before answering in his usual, even tone. "Everything's fine, Jaime. Are YOU okay?"

  "Yeah. Things are good. I was worried, haven't heard from you in weeks." She sounded sincere, but for all he knew, she could have been drunk or high. But God, the sound of her voice was inviting.

  Get rid of her, Judas. He thought to himself. Don't fuck it all up, now. "I've been working and spending time with my wife." he kept his tone barren.

  "I see."

  She must have been stunned by his reply, because it took her too long to speak and when she did, only an utterance of a sentence came out. He told her he was married, when she noticed the ring on his finger, but Judas assured her it wouldn't change anything. Even so, he hoped she wasn't upset to hear he had been with his wife, because that would be a deal breaker.

  "I haven't forgotten you. You're still on the hook,” he told her, feeling his words as he spoke. I will never forget you, Jai. I need you. He didn't say that, because the words caught in his throat.

  "Figured. Got the payment." her tone had a drip of sarcasm but he ignored it. He had to get off the phone, and fast.

  "Soon, Jaime," he promised, feigning more control than he had.

  She sighed softly, "Okay but just so you know, my bed kinda cold."

  He swallowed roughly, keeping his tone in check. "I'll keep that in mind,” he said, hanging up. He shut off his xbox and sat there staring at the phone with a thousand thoughts racing through his head. He knew the purpose for her call, just as she knew what his reaction would be. She missed him and she knew damn well he would come. He had to. He could no more deny his need for her now than he could deny the sky was blue and it was only a matter of time before he went to her.

  The women who served him had mildly kept his interest but he had been using them more and more, almost always fucking them twice before he let them go, despite the fact that he had been taking his wife in many new ways. Well, new to her, anyway.

  He knew it had kept him from triggering and now, just the sound of Jaime's voice had done it. This was definitely a first but it didn't matter how it happened. It couldn't be stopped. Christ! He could already smell and taste her skin and he had to have her. He grabbed his keys and headed into town.

  He heard the Prius pull up in the drive and was thankful he had made it home before Adessa. He was in the kitchen, trying to concentrate on the ingredients he was throwing together for whatever it was he was making for their dinner. The slamming of the door behind her was his first clue that she was upset. "What the hell is this?" she hissed, storming into the kitchen.

  "A receipt?" he shrugged and took a few steps toward her but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it. "Where did you get that?" His voice was ice, and he stared at her as if she were some evil villain. Which was perfect, because she was clearly wearing her war face. This would not be pretty.

  "The drive way, Judas. Now tell me what the hell is going on,” she hissed.

  He wiped his hands on his jeans as he shrugged. "Nothing is going on, doll. I picked up a few things." He tried to brush it off but he knew she would persist.

  "Picked up a few things? No, see, picking up a few things is stopping to grab bread, or milk or soda." she spit furiously. "THIS is eight hundred dollars in lingerie and shoes!" she choked out, slinging the strip of paper at him. Tears welled in her eyes and she stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at him.

  "I don't want to talk about it." he said flatly.

  "Of course you don't. You never do. My shoes are a size six, but I'm happy to know your mistress, whoever the hell she is, wears seven and a half." She was belligerent now and he knew he had to go. He was standing here doing his best to hang on, only for her to storm the kitchen demanding answers she already had. "Her name is Jaime and she's not going anywhere. If you would like to even the score, I will happily drive you back there and buy you the whole damn place if it will make you feel better,” he growled.

  "No thanks, I'm not into being a twin." she glared.

  "You couldn't be. Her tits are huge." He forgot to duck.

  The slap landed across his face so hard it knocked him off balance and he stood there with his mouth gaping open, just staring at her as she stormed away. Of all the stupid shit he could have said, that had come out? What the fuck was wrong with him? Never in his life had he been slapped.

  He rubbed the forming red welt on his face where her hand had landed, gathering his thoughts before finally starting up the stairs after her. He was so angry now that it took all he had not to show her exactly what it was that she was so damn jealous of. She had no right to be angry at him for protecting her.

  "I'm going out." he told her, as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom.

  "I know." She was already curled up in their bed but he kept his distance.

  He slammed his palm against the wooden frame, cursing himself for ever answering the phone.

  “I'm sorry, Adessa. Just know that,” he said in a monotone, hating that it had to be this way.

  She didn't respond.

  "I'm going to need you when I come back,” he said, trying to warn her.

  "Need me for what?"

  "To cleanse me."

  She rolled over to look at him. "What do you mean by that?"

  "Exactly what I said."

  Twenty minutes later, he was at Jaime's front door. He was calm. Maybe too calm but this wasn't the time to think about it. "I knew you would come." She said as she let him in.

  "Then why are you still dressed?" He didn't expect a reply, and she nodded quietly as he walked past her to make himself comfortable in the quilted leather armchair. He watched her as she quickly stripped, peeling off the offending clothing, casting the articles into a pile on the floor. He swallowed roughly at the sight. By the time she dropped to her knees in front of him, he was hard and already aching for her.

  She looked up into his eyes and he nodded his approval for her to begin. Without a word, she flipped the button of his gray slacks and lowered the zipper, causing his engorged length to spring free. She pushed the fabric out of her way, making room for a small, deft hand to push inside, and grip him firmly. His careful breaths caught in his throat as he watched her take him in her warm, hungry mouth.

  Forceful, soothing suction played against his length as her glistening red lips dragged along his heated flesh, bringing him near the edge of surrender. His hips arched slightly, meeting her greedy caress as her tongue swirled and teased his tip. He twisted his fingers through the silken mass of blonde hair, gripping it tight as he guided her further, forcing her throat to open, allowing him entrance.

  A low growl escaped as he felt the pulsing sensation she cre
ated against his tip as he fucked her throat. The agonizing bliss continued until he felt the searing lava begin to flow, spilling against the warm track as she held her breath, accepting and allowing. He released her hair, barely giving her time to take in a breath before pulling her onto his lap.

  "I missed you." she purred as she stroked the hard line of his jaw.

  "I know." he said quietly as he dropped his head against the back of the chair. His fingers absently traced her spine as she sat perched atop him, holding his flaccid length between her thighs.

  "How have you been?" he asked passively, uninterested in conversation.

  Her eyes didn't move above his chest. He had trained her well. "Worried about you." she shrugged.

  "There's nothing to worry about. Things have been good,” he told her, even though they both knew his presence told her otherwise.

  "That's why I worry." She stole a quick glance up, almost catching his smoldering stare.

  "Explain,” he ground out.

  Her voice was a low mumble, "When things are good, you don't come around."

  "When things are good, I have no need to come around," he answered flatly.

  She nodded. "I just want to know you're okay. It's my job to help you."

  "Then shut up and do it." With that, he leaned forward, closing his mouth around a soft, pink nipple.

  She gasped in response to the swift invasion and as his tongue flicked brazenly across the hardened formation, she moaned in delight. The urgency grew with each second, and she began to recklessly rock against him as he drank greedily from her until she arched her back, forcing her hips to raise, and then lower, taking him deep into welcoming depths.

  He threw his head back in ecstasy as he felt his head press against her womb. "Fuck!" he bit out as he gripped her hips to encourage her. She rode him hard and fast, stroking him with her walls, roughly dragging his next release from his loins. He shattered beneath her, sending sprays of hot semen to coat her feminine walls as she gasped for breath.