I swallowed hard as I reached for my purse on the floor and looked up at him. “Let’s celebrate.”
I still hadn’t unpacked all of my mom’s dishes, most of which were still piled up in boxes in the garage. Rather than drinking bourbon from coffee mugs, we decided to drink straight from the bottle. After the first few sips, I was tipsy enough to call Jack a hobo every time he tilted the bottle to his lips. After four sips, Jack screwed the cap back onto the bottle and placed it on the coffee table.
Leaning back on the sofa, I nearly knocked the bourbon over when I put my feet up. I laughed as I reached up to touch my face, which was slightly numb already.
“You’re such a lightweight,” Jack said, putting his feet on the table. “And speaking of weight… I noticed you gained a few pounds. And let me tell you, I love it.”
“I want a dog,” I blurted out.
“I can be your dog,” he replied. “Ruff!”
I turned to him and his goofy smile made me laugh. “I mean it. I think I want a dog.”
He leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Woof-woof.”
“I’m serious, Jack,” I declared through my laughter.
Suddenly, I was on my back on the sofa and he was on top of me, pressing his lips to my ear as he barked again. “Woof-woof!” He used his knee to spread my legs apart as I cackled uncontrollably. “Hey, girl. I’d love to bury my bone in your backyard.”
We both lost it. He fell on top of me as we laughed hysterically for a couple of minutes until we caught our breath.
“My abs hurt,” I said as he nuzzled his face into my neck, but as soon as he kissed me I forgot all about the pain.
As I wrapped my arms around his neck, he tilted his head back to look down at me. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I bit my lip, unable to control my smile as I nodded.
We raced upstairs like fugitives from the law. When he tried to go to my bed, where we’d slept the last time we were here, I pulled him into the guest room, which had a king-sized bed.
“Sweet Jesus. You have no idea how gorgeous you are,” he said as I climbed onto the mattress.
He stood at the foot of the bed, the heavy rise and fall of his chest got me more excited. He watched me undress with an obscene hunger in his eyes, a lion stalking his prey. I was about to be devoured.
Once I was naked, he let me watch him as he undressed slowly, smiling as my gaze fell on his smooth, hard cock. I was dizzy with anticipation. He climbed onto the bed and settled himself between my legs, and my eyes rolled back as he slid into me.
God. Why did I need this so much?
Grabbing hold of the rock hard triceps on the backs of his arms, I gasped as his cock hit my core. He alternated, slow and methodical at first, then fast and furious, then slow again. He rolled his hips, grinding his pelvis into my clit. The flesh at my opening burned as his cock stretched me in deliciously slow circles.
He wasn’t just fucking me. He was dirty dancing inside me. And, yes, I was having the time of my life, and I owed it all to Jack.
Once the orgasm began to roll through me, raising the hairs on my skin and making my limbs tremble, he picked up his pace again. Lifting both my legs onto his shoulders, he pounded me so hard, I feared I’d be split in two.
As if he could hear my thoughts, his thrusts came to an abrupt stop, and his cock twitched as he let go inside me. That was when it dawned on me.
He hadn’t asked me if I’d taken my pill.
I did take my pill, but the fact that he hadn’t asked meant something. Did it mean he was serious when he said he wanted to try for another baby? Or had it just slipped his mind? It had never slipped his mind before.
Suddenly, his lips were on mine again. His weight was heavy and comforting as he draped his body over mine. His erection still twitched inside me as he kissed me slowly and so tenderly I began to cry.
He propped himself up on his elbows, brushing my hair away from my face as he looked down at me. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head adamantly. “No, I’m just… having a moment.”
He laughed and the vibration against my clit made my walls squeeze around his dick. The clenching made his cock jump, and we both laughed this time. He planted a kiss on my forehead as he slid out of me.
“I’ll go get a towel,” he said, but I grabbed his arm before he could roll out of bed.
“Don’t go.” I didn’t care that his hot cum was dribbling out of me.
He chuckled again. “You dirty thing. You want to go another round?”
I nodded as I arched my back a little, tempting him with my assets.
His face grew serious as his hand landed gently on my abdomen. “This time,” he said, his hand sliding between my legs, “I’ll fuck you slow.” He slid a finger inside me. “I’ll fuck you with purpose.”
My heart raced as I tried to deduce the meaning of his words. “Jack?”
“What, pixie?” he said, kissing my neck as he lightly swirled his finger over my clit.
“Should you wear a condom?” I asked.
He continued fingering me as he looked down at me. “Why? You didn’t take your pill?”
He didn’t look worried. He seemed genuinely curious, possibly even amused by my bringing up the condom.
I moaned as the pad of his middle finger feathered my clit. “I did, but you always wear a condom.”
He smiled as his cock, still slick with my cum, began to harden against my thigh. “Not always. Besides, I trust you. I know you’d tell me if you missed a pill,” he said, sliding two fingers inside me now as he searched for my G-spot. “And I already told you that I’ve been thinking maybe we should start trying for another baby.”
I gasped when he located my spot and began teasing me slowly and torturously. “But you said we should start trying for a baby if the counseling goes well,” I replied breathlessly.
His thumb rubbed my clit as his middle finger worked my G. “It’s going well. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, fuck,” I whimpered, grinding my pussy into his hand. “Shouldn’t we wait until we’re living together again?”
He slid his fingers out of me and rolled me onto my side, facing away from him. “You should come home,” he said, pulling my body flush against his. His rock hard cock prodded the crease of my ass as he pulled my leg back and draped it over his body. “Like Bonnie said, it will make it easier to work things out if we’re not so far apart. Besides, the garden looks great, you look great. You’d look even better lying naked in our bed at home, with my baby growing inside you.”
I had to concede that Bonnie and Jack were right. We did need to be closer if we were to have any chance at working things out. But I worried that everything else he said was just what he thought I wanted to hear, because it was exactly what I wanted to hear. And no one knew me like Jack.
I moaned as he glided into me from behind. “But I have a job in Portland.”
He continued fingering my clit as his cock slid deeper inside me. “If you’re adamant about having a job, I’ll ask Nate to get you a real job as a programmer or analyst at his company,” he replied, removing his hand from between my legs right as my thighs began to quake.
“Don’t be an asshole. Just let me come.”
He laughed. “I love your dirty mouth. And I’ll let you come when you tell me you’re moving back.”
I groaned. “Does Paulina still work with Nate?”
“Of course,” he replied, licking the rim of my ear.
The sweet, hot friction as he thrust himself in and out of me was pure torment. I tried to slide my hand between my legs to pleasure myself, but he beat me to it. Using his huge hand, he cupped my mound, covering my clit to keep me from touching myself. Then, he slowed the pace of his thrusts to piss me off even more.
I moaned with frustration. “I can’t work for him. I don’t want to see Paulina.”
His teeth bit gently into the side of my neck. “Why?”
“Faster plea
se,” I begged.
He laughed in my ear and the vibration sent a chill over my sweaty skin. “Why can’t you work with her? She’s married now.”
“You know why,” I replied angrily. “Come on. Fuck me right. Please.”
I didn’t need to explain why I hated Paulina. The bitch tried to come on to Jack less than a month after we buried Junior. He insisted she wasn’t trying to come on to him, but you don’t ask a married man out to dinner on a Saturday night to talk business. Even if he did turn her down, I felt I had every right to hate her.
“I’ll fuck you properly when you say you’re moving back home. Come on, baby. Just promise me you’ll say yes.”
He stopped thrusting completely as he awaited my answer. Just as I had blackmailed him into going to counseling, he was blackmailing me into coming home. Our marriage was a fucking hot mess, but goddammit if we weren’t made for each other.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’ll move back once you, or I, find me a job in Hood River. But I need at least a week, maybe two, to tie up loose ends here. I need to transplant one of my mom’s trees, get my final paycheck, and I need to figure out a few things.”
He groaned in my ear as he thrust into me harder this time. “What things do you need to figure out?” he asked, very gradually quickening his pace.
I moaned every time he pushed himself farther inside me. “I need to figure out a way to get my coworker, Dylan, to move in here.”
He slid out of me and stopped dead. “What the fuck?”
“Dylan is gay!” I replied, reaching back to grab his cock. “He hasn’t come out to his mom, so I just want to offer him a place to stay in case she kicks him out when he tells her. Can you fuck me now?”
He chuckled sheepishly. “Fuck. I love hearing you beg.”
I stroked his cock, and tried to guide it back inside me, but he grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “You want me to beg? Because I don’t give a fuck. I’ll beg.” I rubbed my ass against his erection. “Come on, Jack. Give it to me, baby. Make me come. Please.”
It was mildly degrading, but I’d never felt more empowered, knowing the sound of my pleas was driving him crazy.
He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth. “Jesus fucking Christ. I could listen to that all day,” he said, his hand sliding between my legs again and quickly finding my clit. “But I can’t hold off anymore either. You should grab something to bite down on, pixie.”
I smiled as I reached for the comforter and brought it to my mouth, releasing a surprised gasp when he wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me up onto all fours.
He came at me full throttle.
I pushed the comforter aside so I could breathe. I didn’t care who heard my screams. I rubbed my clit as he tore into me with the force of a raging bull, until we both found our release.
As we collapsed onto the mattress, me on my belly with half of Jack’s body draped over mine, he ran his fingers through my hair. He knew how much I loved when he did that. Goose bumps sprouted instantly all over my skin.
He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on the back of my sweaty neck. “God, you’re a pain in the ass, but I love the fuck out of you.”
I chuckled softly, still trying to catch my breath. “Speaking of pains in the ass…”
“Are you fucking kidding me? After all that, you want some backdoor action?”
I laughed harder this time. “I think your voice just climbed four octaves.”
He smacked my bare ass. “Don’t fuck around with me like that. You’ll make me feel like I’m too old to keep up with you.”
“You’re four months older than me. You’re practically ancient.”
He ran his fingers lightly over my back. “Remember Ayanna’s wedding last year? I know you didn’t want to go, but you have to admit that was the best laugh we’ve had since we lost Junior.”
My heart raced at his mention of Junior, but not because I was afraid to talk about him. I was surprised that Jack could mention him without going into a fit of rage or talking about the case.
I smiled. “I feel guilty just thinking about it. I actually don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in my life… When her dad came out of the restroom plastered, with his coat buttoned to his trousers, slurring about how he was having a stroke because he couldn’t stand up straight, I fucking died.”
“Ah, but when his wife found him and fixed his coat, and he finally stood up straight looking all bewildered, that was pure fucking comedy gold right there.”
I shook my head. “Poor guy. Can you imagine? We shouldn’t laugh about it. One day we’ll be that old and we’ll mistake being totally hammered for the symptoms of a stroke.”
He swept my hair back so he could whisper in my ear. “And I’ll be right there to laugh at you when it happens.”
I was giddy on the outside, but inside I was still overwhelmed.
First, Jack confirmed his desire for another baby. Now, he was talking like he used to, as if we were going to be together for the rest of our lives.
I didn’t know if I was supposed to feel happy that we had turned a corner, or scared that we might be speeding toward another brick wall. Was it possible to rush things with a person you’d been married to for five years?
I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel, but I knew exactly how I did feel.
I felt as if Jack had taken my bruised heart and wrapped it in warm cashmere. I was on cloud nine.
Chapter 20
Jack
Waking up in Laurel’s old bedroom without her made my muscles tense. Having abandoned the wet spot in the guest bedroom last night, at first I was reluctant to sleep in Laurel’s bedroom again, since the last time this happened, I went home without her. Sleeping in this bed almost felt like a bad omen.
But as I sat up in bed, I quickly relaxed when I heard the sounds of someone moving around downstairs. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was 7:13 a.m.
It was a good thing I didn’t have any important meetings at work today. I could go in late or take the day off. Though, I probably shouldn’t slide back into my old habits. I’d call Jade later to tell her I would be in after lunch.
I found Laurel in the kitchen, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail as she flipped pancakes on a griddle. The sizzle of the batter hitting the hot iron made me nostalgic for the first year after we began living together.
Laurel thought she had to make me my favorite lingonberry pancakes every weekend. It took me an entire year to work up the nerve to tell her I was sick to fucking death of lingonberry pancakes.
“Oh, great,” she said, spotting me out of the corner of her eye. “I was trying to let you sleep in, but I was getting hungry. So I went to Freddy’s and got some stuff to make breakfast. I’m making pancakes — not lingonberry.”
I shook my head. “Did you buy a new griddle and utensils just to make breakfast?”
She laughed. “I know it’s wasteful, but I didn’t feel like having cereal again, and I was too hungry to dig through the boxes in the garage for the one that has my mom’s old griddle and baking sheets.”
I came up behind her, grabbing her hips as I leaned in to kiss her neck. “When did you start waking up so early?”
“I have a job now, remember?” she said, wiggling her hips to squirm out of my grasp. “You’re gonna make me burn myself. Go sit down and I’ll bring it to you.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Who the hell was this person?
The Laurel who left me a month ago only cooked after she’d read the latest self-help book on grief. Those bouts of motivation only lasted a week or two before she would start refusing to eat again and staring into space for hours at a time. It made me wonder if the answer to her withdrawal was just to hire one of those self-help writers to bloviate their comforting platitudes at her all day long.
Someone once told me that proverbs were platitudes until you’d experienced something that gave them meaning. That wasn’t true for me. All that shit, the motivational quotes and words of wisdo
m we were fed through our social media feeds, it all became meaningless nonsense.
No wise man or woman could ever string together the right combination of words to make sense of what it felt like to lose a child. The pain defied description. It transcended words. I understood why Laurel ran from it.
But as I watched her pull a sheet of foil layered with crisp bacon out of the oven, I hoped that this busy, cheerful mood she was in wasn’t just another way to bury the pain.
As Laurel had spent the past two years trying to hide from her agony, I had been trying to chase mine down, hoping to one day tackle it and beat it to a bloody pulp. Though I had done a pretty good job of remembering not to fill Laurel in on the details of the case, it didn’t mean it wasn’t always on my mind.
Every night, I opened my laptop and checked the latest posts on the websleuths.com thread dedicated to Junior’s case. Every day, I checked my Facebook app to see who had posted and commented in the Justice for Jack Stratton Jr. group.
I weathered the ups and downs of the promising leads that went nowhere. I stayed up at night remembering the moment I had to check my baby boy’s cold body for a pulse. In the end, I did it as much for Laurel as I did it for myself. I knew when — not if — we cracked this case, she would finally understand why I needed this so badly.
She served the food and set down a carafe of French press coffee and some mugs in the center of the table. “Can you help me look through the boxes in the garage for the rest of the kitchen stuff?”
I waited until she was sitting in the chair next to me. “Baby, I have to go to work today. But I promise I’ll come by after work and bring in anything you need. I’m sure you want the pictures of Junior, too.”
She paused as she picked up her fork, balling up her fist around the handle in a white-knuckled grip. “On second thought, I’ll look for the boxes myself. I don’t want to make you drive all the way back here.”
I tilted the maple syrup bottle over my pancakes and cursed when I accidentally poured too much. “It’s not that far. You know I drive into Portland regularly. Do you not want me to come back?”