by Lacey Black
My anxiety for today is at an all-time high. Higher than when I was supposed to start my period two weeks ago. Especially high the day it actually came. Right on cue. Twenty-eight days exactly from the last time I started one. It was a sad day, one that reminded me that even if things are going well, sometimes you get knocked back a few steps.
I’m not exactly sure why I was so sad, especially because we hadn’t really been trying. I mean, we weren’t preventing, but we weren’t actually doing the deed with the purpose of creating life. Maybe it’s because I had months – hell, years – of disappointment where having a baby was concerned.
Linkin was surprisingly solemn that day, too. He was quiet in a way I didn’t expect, and held me extra tight that night when we fell asleep in my bed together. I don’t know if it was because I was so down and upset or if he really was feeling blue too, but I like to think it’s the latter.
Speaking of bedding together, oh we’ve done quite a bit of that. On the nights he doesn’t work at Lucky’s, we alternate between his bed and mine. On those nights he’s working late, I get a surprise visitor sometime around midnight. Of course, it’s not exactly a surprise, per se, since I gave him a key for his late night booty calls.
But booty calls isn’t exactly what I’d call this. I mean, there’s sex – and a lot of it – but it’s more than that. I feel it, and I think he does too. When we’re together, I get his full attention, which is a nice change from when my soon-to-be ex-husband was around. If he weren’t staring at his phone, I would have thought something was wrong with him.
There’s something almost magical in the way Linkin wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. It’s as if I’m the only woman in the world, and he’s afraid I’m going to get away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. Our friendship has definitely blossomed into something bigger, though we haven’t discussed exactly what that is yet.
Right now, we’re just riding the high, spending time together, and having the sex as much as humanly possible.
Seriously, I had no idea a person could crave another as much as we do each other.
Is this what Abby was talking about? And Jaime? And Payton? And even Meghan, before her life was ripped apart by an unexpected landmine.
I feel it, deep in my heart, when we’re lying together in bed or we’re cooking dinner for the twins. I feel it when my phone notifies me that I have a text and I get all giddy excited that it might be from him.
Who would have thought? That annoyingly cocky smartass from next door has wormed his way into my life, and more importantly, my heart.
Today is the day.
I’m dressing in a soft blue sweater and skinny jeans, and Linkin’s favorite boots. I call them his favorite because he has made me put them back on after more than one occasion, after stripping me naked and doing dirty things to my body. The man has incredible stamina when it comes to positions you’d think weren’t possible, but Linkin proves me wrong every damn time.
Anyway, back to the reason for today.
D-Day.
The day I go before the judge, who will grant the conclusion of my marriage, essentially allowing me to move forward one hundred percent with the next phase of my life.
I arrive fifteen minutes early to meet with my attorney one final time before we’re scheduled to appear in court. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see my grandparents waiting just outside the courtroom.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, the small heels of my boots echoing in the nearly vacant hallway in front of the courtroom.
“We thought we’d come show you support as you dissolve your marriage,” Grandpa says, with an extra sparkle in his eyes. It makes me wonder why he’s so vested in today’s court date. Is it more than just showing me support? Something seems fishy.
“We needed to make sure that man doesn’t try any last minute funny business,” Grandma says proudly, confirming what I was starting to speculate.
“I see. I appreciate your support, but I don’t think he has a leg to stand on when it comes to funny business.”
“You never know when dealing with a man scorned,” Grandpa adds solemnly, the hairs on the back of my neck raising.
“Besides, I want to see this over so you can finally bed that totally doable hunk of a man you brought to Christmas Eve,” Grandma adds loudly, happily, and somewhat proudly on my behalf. Of course, I don’t have the heart to tell her I’ve already been bedding that totally doable hunk of a man since Christmas Eve.
It’s as if she can read my mind, just like when we were kids. “Oh, don’t worry, Lexi Lou. I totally know you’ve been bumping uglies since Christmas Eve. You have that constant I just got screwed by a massive man love sword glow on your face.”
“What!?” I ask, mortification gripping me, pulling me under and drowning me in humiliation.
“Oh, did you think you were hiding that? Grandma knows all about the joys of riding a flesh rocket, Lexi Lou. In fact, I encourage it. I was just trying to be politically correct.”
“When have you ever worried about being politically correct, my love?” Grandpa asks, bringing her aged hand up to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss on the top.
“I’m not, but Chris is standing right behind Lexi listening to everything we’re saying so I thought I’d try to keep the fact that Lexi and that gorgeous man, Linkin, have been doing the nasty for weeks now from his delicate little ears.”
Gasping, I whip around, surprised to find the man I was once married to standing directly behind me. Chris’s face is an ugly shade of red, a look of anger mixed with embarrassment written all over the face I used to love. “Chris,” I choke out. I feel horrible for him overhearing that conversation. Not because he knows that I’ve moved on, but because even though I’m angry and hurt by his betrayal, I don’t want to rub his nose in anything, let alone what is turning into my own happiness.
“Alexis,” he bites out as if my name were a nasty taste of something gross.
“They’re ready for us,” my attorney says, stepping up beside me, essentially cutting off any further communication.
The courtroom isn’t large. Nothing like those you see on TV. In fact, the small room is surprisingly disappointing in regards to what I was expecting. There are a handful of chairs along the back wall, two small tables in the middle of the room, and a judge’s desk up front. Besides the American flag and a printed photo of the Constitution behind the judge, there’s no other décor or markings.
“This is the family courtroom,” my attorney says, leading me to the table to the right. Chris and his attorney take their positions at the table to the left, and we all wait for the judge to enter. Grandma and Grandpa quietly sit behind me, their support having a calming effect on me.
The rest of my time in the courtroom passes in a blur. The judge reads the terms of our divorce, making no amendments to the agreement already signed between Chris and myself. He signs his name on the paper and passes it off to the recorder, who stamps and notarizes the documents that end my marriage.
When we’re dismissed, a new sense of freedom washes over me.
And the first thing I think?
I can’t wait to find Linkin.
“Alexis,” Chris says beside me, his voice quiet and…sad. I’m not prepared for the look of devastation written all over his face. It’s like a kick to the gut, leaving me gasping for breath and dizzy.
I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up his hand.
“I granted you your divorce. I get it. I messed up. But Alexis?” he asks, stepping forward and invading my personal space. Before I can take a step back, he lifts his hand and touches my cheek. “This isn’t over. I love you.”
I’m rendered completely speechless and my grandparents step up beside me. Chris drops his hand, smiles sadly, and turns and walks away.
But is he really walking away?
Uncertainty churns in my stomach like bad Chinese, and I wonder if this is really over. Wil
l he let me go the way I expect him to?
“Ready?” Grandpa asks, placing his familiar hand on my arm.
“Ready,” I choke out before clearing my throat. “Let’s go.”
* * *
I’m eager to see Linkin.
The drive towards Stapleton’s is a quick one and it only takes a few minutes before I find myself pulling into the lot. One of the bay doors is open, a flurry of movement coming from the inside of the shop. When I step out of my car, the sounds of an impact wrench and rock music follows me to the glass door. This time, since it’s during business hours, I’m using the front entrance.
Inside, a man sits behind the counter, a warm smile on his face. I recognize him as the owner, Ernie Stapleton. “How can I help you?”
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. What was I thinking coming here during his work hours?
“Miss?”
“Actually, I was hoping I can speak with Linkin for a quick second,” I say quickly.
“Sure, sure. Wait right here and I’ll grab him,” he replies, hopping up off the stool and walking through the door behind him and into the shop area. “Link! You have a visitor!” he hollers over the tools and music.
I watch as all heads in the garage turn and glance my way. Everyone has seemed to have stopped working and is watching Linkin as he ducks out from under the hood of a car and looks my way. When our eyes meet, even from afar, I feel that same strong, sexual current I always feel. A slow, sexy smile spreads across his gorgeous face, making my dirty mind conjure up all sorts of repeat scenarios starring him and me in that greasy garage.
The sound of his boots as he walks across the concrete floor, along with the beat of my heart, echoes in my ears. The music fades, the murmurs of his coworkers and their judgmental eyes fades, even the gentle hum of the heat in the front office, it all simply withers away the moment he starts to walk my direction. Our gazes are locked, fiery hot with desire, and there’s only one thing I want to do.
No, one thing I need to do.
As soon as he crosses the threshold into the office, I’m moving, plastering myself against his body, throwing my arms around his neck, and pressing my lips firmly to his. The kiss catches him by surprise, but his delay is only a fraction of a second. His tongue pushes against my lips, seeking entrance, as he devours my mouth as if he were a starved man. The kiss is electric, and probably a little bit inappropriate, considering we’re standing in the middle of a business. And thanks to the kiss to end all kisses, I’m too caught up in the moment to even care that I’m making out with Linkin in front of his boss and coworkers.
Eventually, the need to come up for air becomes too great. Just as he starts to pull his lips from my own, a throat clears behind me, followed by chuckling. “Damn, I don’t recall there ever being a day when a beautiful woman came to the shop and kissed the daylights out of me,” Ernie says, humor laced in his voice.
Embarrassment starts to set in.
“No? I would have thought all the pretty ladies would have been lined up back in the day, Ern,” Linkin says without removing his eyes from mine.
That makes his boss laugh. “Well, my Bonnie was there with her rolling pin and cowboy boots, making sure they all stayed away,” he says, slapping Linkin on the back. “I’m gonna slip into my office and make a call for a few minutes, give you two a bit to talk.”
When the door closes, I finally snap out of my mortification stupor. “I can’t believe I just did that,” I mumble.
“You’re completely irresistible to my charms.”
I snort. “I see you’re still as modest as ever.”
“You wouldn’t want me any other way,” he whispers, wrapping his big hands around my waist one more time. “I take it today went well?”
Oh. Yeah. The divorce. The reason I’m here.
“It went very well. In fact, you’re looking at a freshly divorced woman on a mission,” I tell him, trailing my fingers down his chest. Have I told you what this tight t-shirt, smeared with grease and grime does to me? I’m totally a grease monkey bunny.
“A mission, huh? How can I help you complete your mission?” he asks, his head bends down and his lips dangerously close to that place right behind my ear that drives me wild.
“I have ideas. They don’t involve your pants.”
“I love it when I don’t have pants.”
And I love you.
Wait.
What?
Did I really just think that? There’s no way I’m in love with him. I mean, we haven’t known each other that long, and can you really count the first few encounters? I wanted to claw his eyes out with a nail file. For God’s sake, I just got divorced! Literally, like an hour ago!
I can’t be in love with him. He’s infuriating and arrogant and…amazing.
He’s smart and kind and sexy in a way he probably doesn’t even realize. Or maybe he does. But I really like the person he is, not just the pretty face and hard body on the outside. He’s so good with his brothers, helpful with his mom, and a great friend to me. But this is more than friends. These feelings I’m having are definitely not friendly. They’re lustful and carnal. I feel cherished, yet taken in a way I’ve never expected, nor wanted.
But I do want this.
“Everything okay?” he asks, pulling my attention.
“Fine, yes, thank you.”
“So these plans that don’t involve my pants, should I bring dinner home tonight?”
Pushing all thoughts of the L word out of my mind, I focus on the here and now. “Definitely. I have a feeling you’re going to need your energy later this evening,” I tell him, glancing around the room to make sure we’re alone before tapping the place where his dick is hard and secured in his pants.
Linkin’s eyes dilate and darken, and I can almost see his dirty thoughts. “I’ll bring pizza, but leave my pants at the door.”
“Sounds perfect,” I say, noticing a younger guy walking up to the office door. “I better leave you to it.”
He reaches out and grabs my arm before I can get too far away. “What? No goodbye kiss?”
Stepping into his arms, I whisper, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop at one more kiss…”
Linkin’s groan fills the front office as the door opens and a customer enters. Our alone time has officially ended, and my guy is needed, reminding me once again that he’s, in fact, at work. “I’ll see you later,” I say, slowly turning and heading towards the door. Before I slip outside, I glance back over my shoulder, catching Linkin’s eyes firmly following my ass.
When he glances back up, he offers me a smug little grin and walks to the door. He places a too-quick kiss on my lips before whispers, “One hour, and you’re mine.”
Oh, I already am, Linkin.
I already am.
* * *
By the time he knocks on my door, I’m an anxious ball of overactive hormones, ready to pounce. I’m honestly afraid I may jump him and hump his leg like a dog the moment he enters my apartment. He lets himself in with his key, and my heart starts to pound with excitement.
I smell the pizza first, followed by the man. He smells musky, mixed with gasoline and grease. Call me weird, but the combination drives me wild.
Linkin sets the pizza box down on the counter and turns his dark eyes on me.
Then they drop to my outfit.
Or lack thereof.
“Jesus,” he mumbles, his wide eyes still staring at my chest.
“You know,” I start, slowly walking towards him, my legs crisscrossing and the red heels clicking against the cheap vinyl floor. “I saw this outfit online a few weeks ago, and I just had to have it.”
Stopping in front of him, I pop my hip, my right leg out a little and my hands resting on my hips. “See, I used to love wearing sexy lingerie. But over the years, my efforts weren’t fully appreciated, so I stopped.” Taking another step forward, I run one fire engine red painted fingertip down the b
ust of the black leather corset. “But you seem like the type of man who would appreciate the effort.”
“I’m having a heart attack,” he mumbles, his eyes following the line my finger traces down to where the corset meets the black lace panties.
“Do you want me to put on something else?” I ask, my fingers toying with the ties holding the panties together at my hips.
“Fuck no,” he growls, finally seeming to snap out of his trance. “I appreciate the ever-loving fuck out of your efforts right now,” he confirms with a smirk.
“I figured you’d be the man for the job,” I say, slowly releasing one side of the panties.
Linkin reaches out and halts my hand, keeping the ties from completely releasing. “I’m the only man for the job, Firecracker.” His gaze burns my skin as he takes in my outfit one more time. “Now,” he starts, pulling me into his arms, “let’s go to the bed so I can appreciate the hell out of you.”
Quickly, he bends down and lifts me into his arms. His lips are on mine a second later, hot, bruising, and branding, as he walks blindly into my bedroom. His tongue is fierce as it probes my mouth, claiming me.
The bed is soft beneath me, but there’s a hardness to his voice when he speaks. “Get on your knees with your legs spread.” Doing as I’m told, I kneel on my bed, my legs spread shoulder width apart, and my heart beating a furious song in my chest. It’s exhilarating. Freeing.
I watch as he stands beside the bed, slowly removing his black leather belt. My pussy quivers at the thought of him using it on me. He doesn’t though, and drops the belt to the floor. Slowly, he removes his work boots and tosses them off to the side, before ripping off his t-shirt and unbuckling his jeans. My eyes are glued to his fingers as he slides the zipper down, the bite of the teeth echoing in the room. He’s seducing me merely by undressing.
His jeans are left hanging open as he approaches. “I haven’t even gotten a look at the back,” he says, walking around to the side of my bed. His appreciative groan tells me all I need to know about my purchase.
Yeah, well worth the ninety dollars.