Inhale, Exhale

by Matthews, C. L.

  But I can’t, and he is Jase’s kid brother. That alone is one monumentally screwed-up acknowledgement.

  This isn’t normal. These... feelings.

  Jase must’ve fucked me up really good this morning.

  I try to hide my heavy breathing and fail miserably. My chest tightens as Tobe leads me inside, a small tepid smile takes over his handsome face. Why can’t I look away? This man shouldn’t have this kind of reaction from me. Maybe Jason blowing me off put my hormones into a light socket. Yeah, that’s all this is, the equivalent of putting a fork into the wall successfully frazzling my brain.

  “I’m so glad you caved.” Toby fumbles with his cufflinks, seeming forlorn.

  It’s as if he doesn’t understand our reaction to each other either. He’s acting professional and not like we’re best friends. Smart move on his behalf. His staff wouldn’t take lightly to how we act on a day-to-day basis, and they might even say something to Jason. That would cause a clusterfuck of questions I don’t have answers to.

  “Likewise,” I whisper, scared of the tremor in my body. I feel as if I stuck a toaster in water, begging for my death, and my body is shot. I want to touch him again, have him hold me like last night.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  He’s my boss. This can’t happen. And he’s my fucking brother-in-law. This. Won’t. Happen.

  My eyes travel across his immaculate frame. Like my husband, he’s toned in all the right places. Under his button-up is bound to be abs of steel. His shoulders are bulky, stretching the material around them. And tattoos, I know he has a shit ton. I know everything about this man.

  Everything.

  I shuffle my feet. This is too fucking much.

  “Let’s give you the tour,” he says animatedly, gesturing to the hostess station.

  After walking throughout the restaurant, he ends with the kitchen. My God, it is magnificent. I’ve been here as a guest but never experienced a grand tour of the entire establishment. The walk-in refrigerator and freezer are twice the normal industrial size. It’s all stainless steel and modern. I’m absolutely mesmerized with everything.

  “Wow,” is all I muster.

  “I think you’ll fit in well, beautiful.” He articulates the endearing term in easily.

  My eyes widen when I meet his gaze. His reddened cheeks are evidence of the slip of tongue. He called me beautiful. Again, I feel like a fucking teenager and need to stop. I’m married. I can’t do this.

  We go through the paperwork easily, signing forms and going over the recipes, menus, and everything necessary to allow me to work here. He’s nice and helpful with all my questions, and I feel even more confident in this choice. I’m officially a chef! I catch him looking at me often, quick glances and longing stares, but I give them no weight. Doing so will only hurt everyone involved.

  “Lo, I don’t know what my asshole of a brother did this morning... but you’ve kept your distance. It’s not like you to act all fish out of water around me. You haven’t even hugged me. What gives?”

  “He did something...” I start to cry. Why is it so easy to divulge everything to Toby?

  “Did he put his hands on you?” He examines me, grinding his teeth, obviously seething at the thought of Jase touching me.

  “You know he wouldn’t ever hurt me, Tobe. Not physically, at least,” I reply.

  Sad, so fucking sad.

  He envelopes me with his huge body. More like engulfs me in his massive form. It’s comfortable, content, and gentle. He smells of cigars, cedar, leather, something musky—sweet almost. I inhale deeply, enjoying what little comfort I can. This is despicable behavior, Lo.

  “Hola!” Juan breaks the bubble of heat, waving happily.

  “Hey.”

  I hug him too in hopes that Toby understands I’m not trying to be flirtatious with him, we’re only Toby and Lo here, not best friends. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve seen Juan, it’s normal. It isn’t my intention to seduce my boss/brother-in-law or be anything other than friendly. Keeping that line we’ve had for nearly twenty years remains most important, especially today.

  When my eyes land on the clock above the door, I realize my mistake. I’ve completely lost track of time. It’s nearly one in the afternoon, which means Ellie needs to switch the kids over to me.

  Before I can brook an argument, Juan pulls me to go over all the specials we do on Fridays and Saturdays. We have margarita nights Friday and Saturday and happy hour Monday through Friday. He’s so excited to have me aboard, but my mind keeps traveling to my new manager and Ellie’s need for me to switch off like we usually do. She should be okay. She told me as much yesterday and this morning.

  My gaze lingers over to Toby. He’s leaning against the bar. His cuffs loosened to fit over his forearms, they’re rolled up to his elbows, showing traces of his feather tattoo. He’s on the phone, deep into conversation, and it only makes me more aware of where my gaze shouldn’t be.

  Jason. Think of Jase.

  My mind floats to my husband, his toned and strong body, how it flexes while he’s thrusting into me, pleasing me in every way. Oh, sweet Jesus.

  What the fuck am I doing? I’m at work! A flush creeps up my throat to my face, and when I look over Juan’s shoulder, Toby’s penetrating gaze has me burning hotter. He winks, the phone still cradled in his hand while he’s smirking, as if he knows exactly where my dirty mind has ventured off to. I should go home and beg Jason to fuck me senseless since I’m apparently desperate.

  After the second tour—Juan’s being vastly different than Tobe’s original one—I get my work schedule. I’m practically jumping up and down at the idea of having a job. No, a career. Finally, I’ll be a chef for a beautiful place, the job I spent years going to college for.

  Unfortunately, it’s nearing four, and Ellie is probably ready to kill me.

  “Before you go, can I see you in my office?” Tobe’s liquid whiskey voice seeps through my skin.

  I don't have the strength to answer so I offer a curt nod.

  He shuffles me into his massive office. It’s lined with computer screens, all camera angles and areas outside. The desk in the center is black, modern and massive.

  With the click of the door, he comes to me, tilting my chin to him. “Are you okay? And don’t lie, Lo. I know you better than you know yourself.”

  I nod as reassuringly as possible, swallowing hard and embarrassingly loud. “Thank you for showing me around.”

  His lips are as kissable as Jase’s, plump and soft, firm yet relaxed. As I stare, his tongue flicks across the bottom one, and when I gaze into his hazel eyes, I shiver.

  Lust.

  We’re magnetic, Tobe and I, slowly gravitating toward one another without realizing it. The distance between us is laughable. Either of us can move slightly and touch. The temptation to do so is stronger than ever. My stomach jumps. It’s a dark and dangerous line I’m frivolously dancing on.

  “Do you want me to kiss you, gorgeous girl?”

  My insides boil. Yes. “N-no,” I whisper, our lips merely breaths away.

  Step away. Step away. Step away! The heat from our bodies radiates between us, warming me from the inside out, testing every limit I didn’t know existed until now.

  “I think you’re lying, Lo. You forget. I know you,” he states boldly, raising one eyebrow. His cocky brazenness is sexier than I care to admit.

  “I-I’m married...” is all that escapes. Yes, be assertive. “I’m with your brother. We can’t do this. Not ever.”

  You have two beautiful children, a husband that loves you, and a wonderful life. Don’t fuck it up for the irresistible jolts swimming through your veins like a shark on Shark Week.

  “Hmm, never is a long time. Never say never, Lo.” He steps back a beat, putting a little distance between us, simultaneously tapping his chin in thought.

  His bravery is new. What changed? Did he see a weakness in me? Since I believe Jason is cheating, does he see that as a green light?
Or a yellow proceed-with-caution one?

  “I think you want my lips on yours, Sparkle. You want me to take a kiss from you, and not ask...” He trails off, bringing us chest to chest again.

  My nipples harden at his bereft touch, his demanding and shameless behavior turning me on as our chests rise and fall with our rapid breathing.

  Jase, Jase, Jase, I repeat in my mind.

  “He’d kill you, Tobe,” I warn weakly, trying to make an excuse.

  A warm sensation flitters across my skin as his tongue flicks out, barely touching my top lip in the process. The small but intentional motion sends a jolt of something akin to a zap through me. It’s enough to wobble my legs. I’m used to closeness with him. We grew close through grief, but nothing like this. Never like this. He saved me, filled me with love when my husband wouldn’t. He didn’t give up on me. Instead, he pushed me to live again.

  Before thinking twice, I turn and run for the door.

  No, no, no, no! This can’t happen. It won’t happen.

  I pull out my phone, sending a text to Jase on the way to my car. I got a job. Don’t freak out. With Toby. Toby is my boss. I’m a chef! Ellie is taking over my customers, and our children will be in her care. I love you so much. I’m so excited!

  He never responds.

  Later that night, Jason comes home. His gaze doesn’t land on me, like usual. He’s emotionless and frigid. He’s a walking December chill, and it shouldn’t still hurt me to realize I’ve caused this. This rift. This emptiness. This barren feeling between us.

  “Toby and I hugged,” I burst out as soon as he rounds the kitchen island, still completely faced away from me, ignoring me as he usually does.

  But not this time.

  With those words, Jase stares at me inquisitively. Where there’s usually nothing, curiosity sparkles, and I feel alive for the first time in years.

  “Okay. That’s nothing you haven’t done in the past?” he questions. Rhetorical or not, he glances around, uncertainty clouding his eyes. Doubt. “I can’t believe you got a job and didn’t even talk to me about it,” he deflects, pouting momentarily before responding to my previous outburst. “I trust you, Lo.”

  He’s never trusted me.

  Especially not with his brother.

  He brings me into a hug, but there’s nothing warm about his stiff posture against mine.

  There’s no jealousy, no accusatory words, absolutely nothing but a stranger pulling me into his arms. If this would have been ten years ago, he would have fucked me senseless, proving his cock would be the only one to ever fill me. Back then, he would have kissed me until I forgot my name, until I forgot any other man but him, but this? It just seems... empty.

  Is this what trust looks like? He’s either really confident or doesn’t give a shit if I hugged another man. If I mentioned that I wanted him to kiss me and rip my clothes off all at once, he might change his tone. Right?

  “Fuck me?” I ask, realizing the need for him to own me, to take me, push me for more, and make me know it’ll only be me. That I’m it for him, that I’m all he needs.

  I flutter my eyelashes at him slowly, needing him to take all thoughts about his brother away.

  “Why?” he asks incredulously, eyeing me, scanning my goosebumps-prickled skin. “Need me to fuck him out of you, Peaches?” he growls.

  This is the first real reaction he’s given me in months. He never speaks to me this way anymore, with crass and undulated words that are as fierce as they are bitter.

  I nod. A flare of jealousy flashes across his face, and damn it to hell, it makes me hotter. To be craved, desired—hell, to be wanted—is the sexiest feeling ever. This is his brother. Has he always suspected something?

  The kids are already asleep, and we can easily take this to our room. After dropping his briefcase and untying his tie, he picks me up easily. Our lips meet immediately, rash, forceful, savage with fervor.

  If you asked me two days ago that Jase and I would have our bodies this close, I’d cry at your stupidity. But here we are, here we chase each other’s feelings with kisses and emotion, here we reacquaint with each other's bodies.

  “Your boss hot, baby?” he taunts, biting my bottom lip.

  Jase and I have always been honest with each other. Secrets aren’t a part of our makeup.

  Until recently, that is.

  “Yes,” I pant, desperate as hell.

  His grip is near painful, but I want him to brand me as his, to take utter control of me. Tossing me on the bed, he hovers over me while removing his shirt. Why isn’t he more pissed? Does he not care?

  “Did you think of him all day?” he growls, and I close my eyes and moan in response. “Did you touch your pussy, thinking of another man? My fucking brother?”

  When I open my eyes, he’s glaring at me, heat and malice in his grimace.

  “I wanted to,” I admit, swallowing.

  And I did. Tobe invaded my every thought. Something about that man’s eyes that nearly mirrored his brother’s, the way he ate me up with his intense stare, making me feel sexy, forcing me to realize Jase doesn’t do that anymore...

  It kills me realizing how Tobe loves me while Jase throws me away. It slowly grew on me, pushing past my vulnerable walls that Jase had wholeheartedly built himself. Honesty has always been our thing. We never hide anything. Even the hardest of truths, we admit them to one another.

  I’m only in little barely-there shorts and a camisole. Jase can easily take them to the side and fuck me senseless, like when we had to sneak around in the laundry room while our kids barely kept busy. It’d be passionate and hot and everything I need right now.

  His palms trail my hips, gripping tightly. When he edges my shorts, he moves them aside reaching my sex, dipping two fingers in.

  “So fucking wet,” he groans, his eyes rolling back as his thumb traces lazy circles over my clit.

  Whimpers are all that’s given because I’ve wanted this from my husband for months, and I can’t help but melt at his fingertips. He’s finally paying attention to my cravings. Finally!

  “You want another man’s cock?”

  I shake my head in response. Lies. All lies.

  He stops, bringing his hand to my chin, “Don’t lie to me, Lo,” his voice drips with anger. “We don’t lie to one another.”

  He says we don’t lie, yet we both know he’s been lying for a long time. Still, I play into it. I always do. He always wins, and I’m always the bad guy.

  “Yes, I want him.”

  I need him to continue touching me, to make me climax and release all this pent-up sexual tension.

  “But you can’t have him, so you come home to me?” he demands, entering me again, more forcefully, almost maddened.

  “Mmm hmm,” I whimper.

  What have I just admitted?

  “My cock is the only one you’ll ever have, Peaches,” he growls, gripping my pussy and using that nickname that always gets me wet. He pinches my clit, holding my orgasm hostage. “This is mine.”

  I nod, unhinged at his control. “Please, Jase. Fuck me.”

  My eyes and voice plead, needing him to make me his again, to claim me as his one and only, to make me feel as if he isn’t getting it from another woman.

  He unabashedly unfastens his pants, pulling his boxer briefs down his thighs. Then, he’s thrusting into me vigorously. If I weren’t so wet, I’d worry he’d rip me.

  “Yes,” I moan in both pleasure and pain from lack of use.

  “Mine, all fucking mine, you understand?” he nearly bellows. He bites my lips roughly, sending tendrils of fear and excitement through me. I agree with every reassurance I can offer.

  “Are you mine, only mine?” I nearly cry out.

  I don’t want the answer to be anything other than yes. The thought of him being another’s rips through me like a serrated blade. My emotions are all over the place, and I need to know he isn’t seeking it elsewhere.

  Jase hesitates, and I feel my heart stop.
>
  He never hesitates.

  He’s calculated and sure of everything.

  “Of course, baby. All yours.”

  But he doesn’t look into my eyes. He avoids my gaze... He does this when he lies.

  No, please no. My heart can’t handle it, and the icy chill in my veins makes itself unbearable.

  “Stop.” I push his shoulders. “No no no no!”

  Tears slip past my eyelids, falling in rivulets down my cheeks, meeting the curvature of my chin. I wanted the truth. Reap what you sow, right? The feeling has been here for ages, but I never believed it, not really, not like the confirmation I’ve only just been handed.

  Jase immediately pulls out when I push at him again, his eyes showing more truth than his lying words.

  “How long?” I cry. A choked sob slips through, and my entire body shakes with awareness. “How fucking long?” I wail.

  My gut feeling was real. He’s been with another. He’s dipped his stick in another woman.

  His beautiful, stormy, ocean blue eyes rim with wetness. “Lo,” he begs.

  There’s no excuse, I didn’t act on this impulse of mine with Toby. I could have. It’s easy to give in. It’s harder to be faithful to yourself and the one person you promised to cherish, but I did it today. I wouldn’t hurt him like that.

  “Who are you fucking, Jason?” The vehemence in my voice is strong.

  No response.

  “Did you think of me?”

  Again, silence.

  I push his chest as hard as possible. “You think of me while you stuck your dick in her cunt?”

  I’m screeching. The kids will wake up if I don’t calm down.

  “Baby.” His voice is broken. You can hear it in the scratchiness, and he sounds hurt.

  I’m hurting! He isn’t allowed to hurt! He did this to us, not the other way around. The pain in his face couldn’t possibly mirror the devastation that has to be on mine.

  My fists connect with his chest. The tap, tap, tap of me colliding with his flesh only makes the madness ring in my head more profusely. I’m pounding continuously, unable to stop the pain rushing through me.