Sex With Your Ex

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Ah, Cowboy, you're right,” she conceded, her eyes held the sadness she'd long harbored. “But I wasn't married to any of them for seven years.” Pricilla was sure she made her point when she watched Brady's face fall.

  Touché.

  * * * *

  He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. For some reason they were sweaty. Pricilla was right, and he hated it. He had spent more than a dozen nights nursing a bottle of tequila, examining his motives. It had never been that he didn't love Melina, only that he missed her, that it seemed no matter what he did he couldn't get her attention, which was always focused on the office or making babies. As a result they drifted apart; she did her thing, he did his. He'd filled in the emptiness with work, and then typically found other outlets. Brady didn't know how to describe it, but he would give it his best shot. He owed Pricilla that much.

  “I missed her.” He said it with suddenness, a sardonic smile twisting his lips.

  Pricilla turned to face him, her ethereal glow shining brighter in her fury. “Well that's a fine way to show a girl ya miss her, you idiot!” She screeched at him. “What do you mean you missed her? You missed her so much you got a girlfriend to fill in for her? Look, Brady, I've been around the block a time or two, and I know why I did the things that I did. It sure as snot had nothing to do with me missing anyone. What I was missing was my dignity, my pride.”

  Whoa, that was deep, she thought, insightful even. Oh screw insightful! This wasn't about her, it was about a nice man like Brady blowing his life to smithereens for a little attention. She refused to let him off the hook; she let out an exasperated sigh and made an attempt to understand this mess. Patience, she reminded herself.

  “So you missed her, knucklehead. What did you miss?” Brady's blue eyes shimmered with confusion and grief.

  “I missed being a part of her life. She was always busy with her new career, and we never spent any time together anymore. When she found out we weren't going to have kids of our own, she withdrew. She just stopped talking to me. And before you ask, I told her over and over it didn't matter to me. I guess it's that whole ‘I'm not a complete woman’ bullshit. She blew me off more times than I can count, and one day I came across someone who actually listened to me, who thought I was funny...”

  “And made you feel like a man, and hung on your every word, blah, blah, blah,” Pricilla mocked, cutting him off at the knees. She knew all about “listening,” having listened to more men than she could count.

  “Did it occur to you that having a baby was more than just important to Melina, Brady? It was anecessity . It was her way of making sense out of the mess I made of her life, you dolt!

  “I figure it like this,” she continued. “Having a family was as natural as breathing to Melina, and a baby is something that is always yours. Men divorce you,cheat on you, friends desert you, but a child willalways need you. It's a bond no one can ever take away. To Melina I figure it meant something of her very own, that no one else could steal—a sense of belonging, roots. I guess I wasn't very good at that.”

  Pricilla smiled wryly to herself.Well, if that wasn't an understatement. “And you sure didn't help, you brainless twit!” She flicked a finger at his head. “That ‘she doesn't understand me’ crap just ain't gonna cut it with me, Cowboy. Like every man between here and Jupiter doesn't use that excuse.”

  “This broad,” she spat at him, “listened so well, she got ya into bed with her! Was she listening to you there, you idiot? Not much talking goin’ on there, huh? Do ya suppose if you'd have left Melina, all the new ‘Oh, Brady, you're the be all and end all,’ would have worn off, and you'd be in the same boat?” Pricilla's eyes narrowed in disgust.

  “That was my trouble, you know. I was always looking for a high and when I stopped getting it from one guy, I moved onto the next. I guess it just took you longer to crave a new high, Brady. You know what, though, the high has to wear off, and somewhere along the way you have to find a happy medium.”

  “You're no spring chicken Brady; all those wild oats should be sown by now. Look what ya got for a little attention. You lost everything, and ya could have kept that from happening if you'd a justtalked to her. And if she wouldn't talk to you, then you should have just kept trying, or left like a man, not some lowlife, cheating weasel!” Pricilla put her hands over her eyes and shook her head, tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

  “Don't you see? Melina is trying to make up for all the crappy choices I made. She's out to prove she's a better person than I ever was. She made some mistakes in the process, but she didn't deserve this. You betrayed her in the worst way I can think of, and now she thinks you're no different than everyone else who's disappointed her. You were her hero, and now it hurts too much to think that who you were,what you were to Melina, existed only in her mind.”

  “It's so daggone cliché, Brady. You're like a walking edition of an article onWhy Men Cheat from one of those women's magazines.”

  Pricilla jumped up to pace the worn carpet, her furious strides whipping her white robe around her feet. Her heart ached for her baby, but it also ached for this stupid,stupid misguided man. She turned to him mid-stride, accusation written all over her face.

  “I saw this, Brady, I saw this happening, and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it,” she revealed. “I'm not supposed to be in the ‘viewing room,’ since only Angels who have earned Upper-Level status can, with permission, view their loved ones. But I threw caution to the wind, and my hide to boot, and took a peek. Oh, I wanted to slap your stupid head! I paid a fine price for peeking too, ‘cause look where it got me.” Pricilla's voice rose in desperation. “Assigned to you, assigned to help you get your wife back, and I don't know if that's what you deserve.”

  Brady shook his head defiantly, balling his hands into fists. “Maybe you're right, Pricilla, but I'm not giving up until the fat chick sings,” he said insistently, his blue eyes swimming with hope.

  Pricilla turned her back on him. That pathetic look on his face was gonna kill her for sure. If things kept going south, like they had so far, the ‘fat chick’ was going to belt out an aria any minute now.

  * * * *

  Melina let the sting of the shower wash away the remnants of her little ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma'am’ in the alleyway. Her nipples tightened at the memory of her and Brady, locked in a mind-blowing clinch. In an alleyway, no less. She closed her eyes at the memory, fighting to shove the emotions back into their nice neat little corner, unaddressed and happy to be that way.

  Toweling off, she padded to the bedroom and grabbed a T-shirt. Throwing it on, she climbed into bed under the warm comforter, trying to turn off her thoughts. She couldn't face this right now, not yet. Would she evernot want Brady? She groaned and clutched the pillow to her chest. She had dated other men in college, even made love with them a time or two, but there had never been anyone like Brady. He was gruff and possessive and utterly without charm, but he had loved her like no other, or so she had thought. He had been her lifeline, her rock. After his betrayal she'd been alone. A little fish swimming in a big pond.

  She knew that one day she would wake up to an incredible, mind-blowing discovery. She'd think Brady was the dumb-ass he was, find some self-esteem and just stop loving him. Period, end of story. Right now, while she couldn't forgive him, she hadn't stopped loving him either. She understood herself well enough to know that, and well enough to know that it might never happen.

  She wasn't making vows that she would never love again, or dramatic pledges of eternal faithfulness to an ill-fated relationship, she only knew that she loved him and parts of her could never be given to anyone else as a result. Sometimes you can't help who you love, she thought wryly. But you can try.

  God, that was lame. Didn't she have any self-esteem? And worst of all, she'd had sex with the infidel. The part of her that ached with need and longing had overwhelmed her better judgment. She'd thought only of his hands and his cock in her body. Well, the alcohol hadn't he
lped either, but she hadn't been drunk. Shouldn't she feel revolted by his touch? After all, he had touched someone else and put that damn cock of his where it didn't belong.

  What was wrong with her? Was she sex-starved?

  Sex was sex, wasn't it? You could get it anywhere.

  Her tortured heart called to her, ‘Sex is sex but love is love ... And you love Brady.’ Her eyes grew heavy as she pondered the pain he had caused, what he had taken away from her, from them, and how much she missed him every damn day.

  * * * *

  Brady stole silently into the house, quieting Otis and Redding with a finger to his mouth, and a pat on the head. Heading for the kitchen, he found the makings for coffee and began to brew a pot, hoping to be done before Melina woke. The rich aroma reminded him of breakfast on Sundays. He gripped the countertop and closed his eyes for a moment.

  He looked around at the kitchen Melina had worked so hard to make her own, and longing chewed a hole in his gut. If he could just explain ... But then, how do you explain something like what he'd done? Brady had no sweet words to offer her. Hell, he'd never been big on sweet ‘anything's'. He was an idiot, and he knew it. Pricilla was right. And she was right in telling him that he had to be gentle with Melina, win her heart and her trust.

  Okay, so he had a ghost of a mother-in-law. It was out of this world insane, but he was willing to use any avenue available to save his marriage. If that meant consulting the ‘other-worldly’ Pricilla, then so be it. Who would believe it if he told them anyway?

  He watched the coffee drip slowly, and considered his options. Melina was the single most important aspect of his life, and without her he was adrift, as evidenced by his year-long bender. She had always been the class in their relationship, not to mention the balance he needed to keep from being a complete Neanderthal. Melina was as soft as he was hard. She was who he turned to when he needed support, so when she'd shut him out, it hurt too damn much. The gap had widened, and he couldn't seem to breach it.

  Maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, damn his lack of vocabulary! He had been angry that he wasn't able to control the situation. He couldn't save her from the kid thing. It was the one thing he had no control over. Brady ached for her loss, and he silently grieved for her. He'd wanted children too, but not more than he wanted Melina, and not at the expense of their marriage.

  When Melina shut him out, it was the single most painful experience of his life, and he'd turned it into something worse. Looking back, he didn't even recognize the man who'd done this to his marriage. Pricilla was right. He was a weasel, and he deserved every last crappy thought Melina had about him. Desperation clawed at his heart, when he considered what he would do if the roles were reversed. He'd kill the bastard, but could he forgive her?

  There'd come a time when Melina would come at him with both barrels loaded, and only then would he know what their fate was. He almost wished it would just happen, to assuage his guilt. He wanted her to scream and yell at him, hit him, anything. He clung to the hope that Pricilla was right, and thathe was Melina's destiny, because he couldn't imagine his life without her.

  His thoughts drifted to the night before and he cringed. It had been damn good to hold her again, touch her. He had dreamed of it more times than he could count, but it hadn't been the right time, he guessed. He'd made a mess of things again, but he'd die trying to fix it.

  With a steaming mug of her favorite flavored coffee, he headed up the stairs, taking care to be quiet. Standing in the doorway of their old bedroom, he felt his heart contract as he took in the small lump she made in the big bed. She was too damn skinny; not that she'd had been fat, but rounded in all the right places.

  Melina lay on her back, the comforter draped about her waist, revealing the creamy skin of her belly flushed from sleep. Her arms were above her head and her round breasts firmly thrust upward. Her nipples jabbed at the thin material of her T-shirt. His favorite T-shirt, he mused.

  Brady stood mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of her chest. Her hair fell in a wild tangle of curls around her shoulders. He ached to tunnel his fingers through it. His cock jerked. She was so beautiful lying there, he wanted to climb in next to her and drag her to him. Bury his needy cock in her softness.

  On impulse, he set the coffee on the nightstand and knelt beside the bed. Leaning over her, he grazed her cheek with his nose, inhaling her fresh scent. Lightly he ran his tongue over her parted lips; she stirred and a soft expression swept over her face. With gentle hands he slid the comforter down past her knees, noting she had no panties on. Brady's heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked on her cunt, waxed and smooth. His tongue itched to taste her. He wanted to bury his face in her musky-scented, slick folds.

  Callused fingers swept her shirt upward and he watched her nipples react to the cool air with fascination. They puckered, begging to be licked and suckled. His hard-on pressed painfully against his tight jeans. Leaning forward, he swiped at first one, then the other plump nipple, with a greedy tongue.

  His head swam with the salty, sweet taste of her. Cupping the full swells, he gathered them together, nipping at their undersides. Melina arched her back, and sighed softly. His thumbs caressed the tight buds in a circular motion, her hands came up to grasp his wrists and her hips thrust upward.

  “Please...” he heard her whisper in her sleep. Did she mean him? Did she know it was him?

  His cock was burning a hole in his pants. He hadn't meant for it to go this far, but he couldn't stop himself from answering her soft plea. Brady wrapped his tongue around a nipple, sipping at it, tugging it gently with his teeth. Melina's hands caressed the sides of his face. Finding his lips, she dipped her finger into his mouth and he suckled it. Her hips bucked wildly, and her chest heaved. Brady fought the desire to rip his clothes off and plow into her wet warmth.

  Slowly, his tongue moved from her breasts, gliding over the soft plane of her belly, as he moved with lazy strokes, tracing a path to her cunt. He lay his head there and closed his eyes, savoring the musky scent. His hands slipped under her hips and kneaded the soft globes of her ass, pulling her forward toward his waiting mouth.

  His tongue snaked out to lick at her wet folds. He closed his eyes and sighed. She tasted so sweet, and every muscle in his body tightened in response. His cock was on fire.

  Again he flicked her weeping flesh, and then he placed his hot, needy tongue to her clit. Brady remained motionless as he let the swollen nub lay against his tongue; Melina grew impatient and clutched at his head, burying his face in her cunt. Latching onto her clit he tasted her, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh.

  His finger found her passage, and thrust into the slick entrance. He felt her muscles tighten and her cunt contract around his finger. As she came, she ground her ass into the bed. Her small hands held fistfuls of the sheets, tearing at them. He held firmly to her swollen clit with his lips and tongue, lapping at her juices until her hips rested back on the bed, slack with relief.

  Melina's hands tugged him upward, dragging his hard swollen body over her naked flesh. Her green eyes flashed fire, finding his moments before she wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth to his. Brady inhaled sharply at the force, as her tongue probed his with fierce stabs. He felt her ribs poke at him, so deep were her gasps for air. She wrapped her legs around his still jean-clad waist, digging her heels into his ass.

  Struggling to remove his shirt, she pulled it up and over his head. When her nipples scraped his overheated flesh, he ground his fabric-covered cock into her cunt. She rolled him off of her, pouncing on his torso; straddling his hips, she unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his engorged cock. The thick length sprang forward, slapping against his belly with an audible thud. Melina's hands shoved his jeans to his ankles, pinning him under her she slid her cunt over his throbbing cock, letting her wet folds envelop him.

  Her hips moved in small circles, grinding her cunt against him. Her nipples beaded, and he lifted his head to swipe endlessly at them. Brady's
hands found her hips and caressed the silky skin. Melina lifted them just enough for the head of his cock to gain access to her tight passage. One fell swoop later, he grunted loudly as she allowed him entrance, plunging downward.

  Melina sat silently on his cock, unmoving. Her head fell back on her shoulders and she arched her back, pushing her breasts forward. Her silken walls throbbed around his stiff length; he held his breath as he savored her fiery heat, so wet and tight. Her hips began to sway rhythmically and Brady followed her lead with precise upward strokes.

  She reached up to cup her breasts, her thumbs rubbing at her tight nipples. Through hooded eyes he saw her tug at her lower lip. Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck he pulled her to him, and she nestled her head into his neck. Her flushed, silky soft skin pressed firmly to his, sent him over the edge. He felt his balls tighten and pull upward. They ached, heavy and full.

  Melina must have sensed his impending orgasm because she sped the rhythm of her hips until he clutched at her ass and crushed her to him. She nipped at his neck and cried out, “Yes!” as she shuddered against him. He lost all control as his cock trembled, then shot thick streams of liquid into her.

  Holding her tightly to his chest, he kissed the top of her head, smelling the light fragrance of her shampoo. Brady wanted to speak but he couldn't, his tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth. Instead, he closed his eyes, grateful for this quiet moment, unsure if there would ever be another.

  * * * *

  “Well, that was quite a wake-up call, Brady,” Melina said as she swung her leg around and climbed off of him, tugging her T-shirt back into place. She crossed her arms over her breasts, and looked down at him. His jeans were caught somewhere down around his ankles, and his cock now lay flaccid on his belly.

  She sauntered off to the adjoining bathroom, and turned on the water. This was the second time they hadn't used protection. Not that it mattered, she thought bitterly.

  When she came back she threw a soggy wash cloth at him, where it landed with a splat on his chest. Turning her back to him, she sat at the edge of the bed fingering the comforter. She heard him zip his jeans as she struggled to fend off tears. Taking a shaky breath, squaring her shoulders defensively.