Seriously, Cindy, get your head in the game. You are currently in your bed, attempting to ride a hot, sweet, wonderful man, and you’re ruining things.
“I’m an idiot,” I mutter as I move to get off of him.
PJ quickly grabs my hips and keeps me right where I am. He thrusts upward, pushing himself deeper inside me, and we both let out soft groans as I lean forward and rest my hands on his chest.
We had our first sleepover last night, since Anastasia stayed at a friend’s house, and as soon as I opened my eyes and felt PJ curled up behind me with his arms wrapped securely around me and his morning wood pressed into my ass, I couldn’t stop myself from rolling over and climbing on top of him.
“You’re not an idiot. And I’m on the same page as you. I really, really like you too. I more than like you, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, so we’ll just pretend like I didn’t say it.”
Moving my hands to rest on the pillow on either side of his head, I dip my head down and press my lips to his. When I pull my head back a little, I find him smiling up at me.
“It feels right to me too. It feels perfect,” he whispers, his hands moving from my hips to clutch my ass and rock me against him.
“Are you back to talking about your dick again?” I laugh as I swivel my hips and feel him swell inside of me.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
Lifting the lower half of my body a little, I quickly push myself back down on him roughly. He’s so big and full, and I can’t even believe how much better everything feels being on top, hitting a spot I didn’t even know existed and that sends tingles up my spine with each movement I make on top of him.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely perfect,” I tell him, gasping when he thrusts his hips up to meet me again, pushing himself deeper as he holds his ass suspended above the bed, and I grind against him. “Am I doing this right? I’ve never been on top before.”
His ass suddenly drops back to the bed and I look at his face to see his mouth dropped open in shock. I should really learn to stop talking so much when we’re having sex. PJ and I have had sex on every available surface in this house, in every glorious, mind-numbing position except this one. This is the first time I’ve taken charge, and even though it feels better than any other time with him, I’m still worried about pleasing him.
“Say something,” I whisper, pushing off the pillow and sitting back upright on his lap, my hands trailing down his bare chest to rest on his stomach.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to come up with the most creative, painful way to kill your ex right now,” PJ mutters in irritation.
“Can we not talk about him while your dick is in me?” I sigh.
“Excellent suggestion,” PJ replies, sitting up until we’re chest-to-chest and wrapping one of his arms around me to hold me more securely on his lap while his other hand comes up to wrap around the back of my neck as he stares into my eyes. “You can’t do this wrong. It’s just like the lap dances.”
Grabbing onto his shoulders, I resume movement, grinding myself against him.
“Just like the lap dances, except your cock is inside me,” I whisper against his lips.
His hips jerk up and his arm gets tighter around my waist.
“Jesus, it’s so hot when you say shit like that.”
I smile, silently thanking Ariel for all that kitchen shouting practice before pushing everything out of my mind but where I am and what I’m doing right now.
Tightening the muscles in my thighs on either side of his hips, I push my body up the length of him and roughly push back down, both of us moaning in unison. PJ squeezes his eyes closed and his head falls back with a softly muttered curse as I quickly move up and down on him, riding him and loving every minute of what I’m doing to him.
I never knew I could be this assertive in bed, just climbing on top of a man and taking what I want, and it’s a heady feeling knowing I’m doing it right. He’s obviously enjoying it, going by the way he’s cursing and panting and struggling to control himself.
He lets go of the back of my neck and both of his hands move to clutch my ass again, guiding my movements and helping to slide me up the length of him faster and pushing me down harder as his hips thrust up to meet me, until we’re both panting and cursing.
Just like every time with PJ, my orgasm quickly rushes up to meet me, the throb and ache between my thighs making me move my body even faster and ride him harder to get the relief I need.
I slam my hips down harder, take him in deeper, and hold myself in place as I grind my hips roughly against him, dropping my face to lick and suck the side of his neck as the pulsing between my legs intensifies.
“That’s it, baby, let me feel you.”
PJ’s quietly whispered words are all it takes for me to topple over the edge. I bite down on the skin of his neck and moan loudly as my hips jerk against him, churning and pushing as wave after wave of the most intense release I’ve ever felt washes through me.
“Fuck, Cin!” PJ shouts, his hips thrusting up hard as he holds himself still, following right behind me as he pulses and comes into the condom he put on as soon as I rolled over on top of him earlier.
He curses and moans through his release, holding me tighter against him, pushing into me a few more times with short, jerky movements until he finally collapses back on the bed, taking me down with him until I’m sprawled across his chest, our hearts beating rapidly together.
“Never ask me again if you’re doing something right. You do everything right just by breathing. And being naked,” PJ mutters, tightening his arms around me and squeezing me in a tight hug.
After a few minutes of lying on top of him, I pull myself off him and flop onto the bed beside him.
“Don’t you have a meeting at the club this morning?” I ask as he rolls to face me and rests his hand on my hip.
“Yes, but I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll ever be able to walk again,” he jokes with a smile.
Leaning forward, I press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back and giving his chest a gentle shove.
“Go. Get to work. Just come back when you’re done so we can try that again,” I tell him.
He shakes his head at me, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead before rolling away and scooting out of bed. “You’re seriously going to kill me.”
I can’t wipe the smile off of my face as I watch him move around my room completely naked. I watch the muscles in his ass tighten as he disposes of the condom and then bends over, scoops up his jeans and slides them on. I drool at the definition in his chest and abs as he slides his T-shirt over his head and winks at me when he catches me ogling him.
My eyes are still on him as he comes back to the bed and leans over, pressing his hands onto the mattress next to me until his face is inches from mine.
“I meant what I said. I more than like you,” he tells me softly, making my heart beat faster in my chest.
“I more than like you too,” I whisper back.
He smiles, craning his neck to press his lips to mine, pulling them back right when I was about to drag him back into bed and tell him not to go to work.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
With my smile still firmly in place, I watch him leave the room, listening to the sound of his footsteps as he heads downstairs followed by the slam of the front door.
My heart is so full of happiness that I can see what Ariel meant when she said I was making her nauseous. I’m starting to gross myself out.
Ten minutes later, I finally decide it’s time to get out of bed and get dressed. I throw on a ratty pair of jean shorts along with a long-sleeved top that hangs off one shoulder. I check my reflection in the mirror, smiling again when I see my long blond hair is curly and wild and what Ariel would call “sex hair.” Bouncing down the stairs, I go in search of my laptop to see if we’ve received any new bookings since last night. I find my computer on the kitchen counter and I feel like the muscles in my cheeks are going to
explode from all the smiling I’m doing when I see five new bookings in my email. Right when I open the first one and start drafting a reply, I hear the front door open and close.
Checking the clock on the microwave, I know it’s too early for Anastasia to be home, since her friend’s mom was taking them to the movies later this afternoon. Thinking PJ must have forgotten something, I quickly close my laptop and rush out of the kitchen.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away long. Lucky for you I didn’t put on a bra or underwea—”
My words cut short as soon as I round the doorway of the kitchen. The hallway around me feels like it’s spinning, and I have to press my hand against the wall to stop myself from falling.
Standing by the front door, checking out his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall and wearing a pair of khaki dress pants, a white polo, and dark sunglasses, is the only thing that could possibly kill the smile on my face forever.
“Hello, Cynthia,” Brian greets me with a smile. “What in the world are you wearing, and what is wrong with your hair?”
Chapter 29: Mexican Drug Lords
I’m so pissed off right now I could spit nails.
As I pace back and forth along my front porch, I almost wish Belle were here to tell me where that saying comes from. Did someone back in the day actually shove a handful of nails in their mouth and spit them at someone who made them angry? I’d really love to open up my mouth and let a shit ton of nails go flying out at Brian’s head. Or his balls. I also wish Ariel were here to throat punch him for all the shit he’s been spewing for the last fifteen minutes when I refused to let him step foot inside the house. After my shock at seeing him show up here out of the blue wore off, I grabbed his arm and dragged him out onto the porch and told him he better start talking fast, before I call the police.
“So, you see now why I need your help. Please, Cynthia. I don’t know what else to do.”
Brian finally stops talking, leaning forward on the bench where he’s sitting to rest his elbows on his needs, clasp his hands together between them, and give me a pleading look.
I stop pacing and lean my hip against the railing, crossing my arms in front of me as I stare down at him. When he first sat down, he patted the spot next to him on the bench, but I refused to get any closer to him than I had to. Plus, I feel like I have the upper hand by looking down on this complete waste of air that I still can’t believe I married and spent so many years with.
“Let me get this straight: You cheated on me with our babysitter, cleaned out our bank accounts and left me with nothing, ignored your own daughter so you could frolic around Mexico with a woman almost half your age, stole money from your parents’ company to fund this excursion, leaving me to figure out how to pick up the pieces—along with getting harassed by your parents for the last six months because they thought I knew where their money went—and now you expect me to lie for you? ARE YOU HIGH?!” I shout at him.
“Cynthia, please. There’s no need to raise your voice. Honestly, what has gotten into you?” Brian asks with a disappointed shake of his head.
The nerve of him! The. Nerve. I cannot believe he can sit there after telling me the most ridiculous story in the world and still have the balls to look at me like I’m the problem.
My arms drop to my sides and I clench my hands into fists as I glare at him, wishing he’d take those ridiculous sunglasses off his face while he talks to me so I don’t have to cut my hand on them when I punch him.
He must realize I’m about two seconds away from messing up his face and quickly starts to backpedal.
“Look, I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am for what I put you and Anastasia through. If I could take it all back, I would. I wish I’d never succumbed to Brittany’s charms. She made me feel young again, and because of that, I ruined everything. But I’m back now. I’m back, and I just want a chance to make things right. But I can’t do that without your help. I promise I’ll make it up to you and Anastasia. I will never stray again, and I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you. We had such a wonderful life together, Cynthia. We can have that again, but only if you help me,” he pleads.
I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. Never, in a million years did I expect Brian to show up on my doorstep, stupid enough to think I’d help him with anything after what he put me through.
“You told your parents you were kidnapped, Brian! Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?!” I ask, throwing my hands up in annoyance. “Let me just repeat this idiocy out loud so you can hear how stupid it sounds: You were blackmailed by Mexican drug lords who found out how much you were worth. For months and months, they forced you to steal money from Castle Creative, threatening to kill your family if you didn’t do as they say. Then, when you so gallantly tried to stand up to them and refused to give them any more money, they attacked you, drugged you, snuck you over the border, and held you hostage for the last six months, until you bravely managed to escape and come home to us. Did I get that right?”
Brian nods his head eagerly, clearly not hearing how far-fetched and stupid this sounds.
“Exactly! See, you’ve already got it down pat. Now, I just need you to confirm all of that with my parents, and everything will be fine. Please, I need you. If we don’t make this believable, they’ll call the authorities and I’ll go to prison. I can’t go to prison, Cynthia. I’ll never survive in there! All of those buff, angry, tattooed men. Can you imagine what they’d do to someone like me?!”
I’m so shocked by everything that comes out of his mouth that I’m not paying attention when he gets up from the bench and moves toward me. It’s not until he gently wraps his hands around my upper arms that I shake myself awake and jerk out of his hold.
“YOU DESERVE TO BE IN PRISON AFTER WHAT YOU DID! HAVE FUN WITH THAT. DON’T DROP THE SOAP. GOOD LUCK NOT BEING SOMEONE’S BITCH. MAYBE A FEW PRISON TATTS ON YOUR FACE WILL MAKE YOU LOOK LIKE LESS OF A SPINELESS ASSHOLE WHO FUCKED OVER HIS WHOLE FAMILY!” I scream at him, my body vibrating with anger.
“What in the world has gotten into you, Cynthia and where is this unbecoming language coming from? This isn’t you,” Brian mutters with a perplexed shake of his head.
“Surprise, Brian! This is me. Unbecoming fucking language and all. For the first time in my life, I’m finally happy. Even though I hate you with every fiber of my being, you did me a favor. You made me wake up and realize I was living a lie. You made me realize that what we had was superficial and a joke. I finally have something real in my life. I finally have someone who cares about me for me and not for who he thinks I should be to make himself look better. You can’t just show up here out of the blue after serving me with divorce papers and skipping town and expect me to drop everything to help you out when you didn’t give a rat’s ass if your daughter and I lived or died or even had enough money to put food in our mouths. Get the hell off my porch and out of my sight, Brian.”
I make a move to go back into the house and his hand jerks out and wraps around my arm again, stopping me in place.
“What do you mean you have someone who cares about you? You’re actually dating someone? Who is he? Has our daughter met him? I cannot believe you already found someone else!”
The shock in his voice is evident, and if I weren’t so fired up or immune to his preposterous behavior at this point, I might take offense at the fact that he seems to think it’s so absurd I was able to find someone else.
He stares at me with wide eyes, and all I can do is shake my head at how pathetic he is.
“What I do with my personal life is no longer your concern,” I inform him, once again jerking my arm out of his hold and putting more distance between us.
It’s bad enough Anastasia will have one parent rotting away in prison. I don’t need to be arrested for assault and battery on top of it.
“In case you’re forgetting, you’re the one who found someone else first. You have some nerve getting pissed off at me that I did the same. No
w, get. Off. My. Porch.”
“Cynthia, I’m sorry. How many times do I have to apologize before you forgive me? Brittany was a mistake. A huge mistake. She made me go to raves. RAVES, Cynthia. And she always has to document everything on that SnapGramInstaWeb thing. Always making me take selfies and make a ridiculous duck face with my mouth. Do you have any idea how unattractive making a duck face is?! She’s too young for me. She doesn’t even want to go out until midnight. It’s exhausting. I want my wife back. My calm, levelheaded, perfect wife, who is not embarrassing to take out in public,” he rambles. “We went to dinner with Skip Wolfman after we got back to the States the other evening. You remember Skip Wolfman, right? He’s the president of the country club. Anyway, she started telling him about something called Burning Man and how he should go with us. I Googled Burning Man, Cynthia. I’m scared. I’ll never survive. I ended things with her, something I should have done a long time ago. Please, I just want my wife back. I just want you to forgive me. I want to make things right with you and Anastasia. I miss my old life. I miss my daughter. If you don’t help me, I’ll never see her again.”
As much as I don’t want anything to do with this man ever again, his words give me pause. I don’t want to be the one responsible for taking Brian out of Anastasia’s life forever. It was one thing when it was his decision and his decision alone, and I hate him more than I ever thought possible for putting me in this position, but it’s a whole other issue when I have to think about what’s best for my child now that he’s back.
“We’re never, ever getting back together, Brian. I need you to understand that right now. As for our daughter, you need to give me time to think about this. You hurt her. You have no idea how much you hurt her, and I’m disgusted with myself for giving her a father who could throw her away so easily and think he could just come back here and everything would be fine. Go away. Go away and give me time to think.”
He quickly nods his head and smiles at me. I remember a time when his smile would make me happy, now it just makes me sad.