“Coming from a guy who knows nothing about being serious in life,” Wren said. “Drugs everywhere. Naked women everywhere. Seriously?”
“Okay… you bring the serious stuff. I bring the fun. So it works.”
“Great,” she said. “Do I ever get some fun?”
“You can have some right now, sweetheart,” I said. “This mansion is all about fun. And you brought seriousness to it. I feel like I need to cleanse the air.”
“Well, go get one of your whores to help with that,” Wren said.
“Or I could just help you…”
I moved my hand under Wren’s covers and touched her leg.
I felt her leg flex.
She was silent.
Completely silent.
“I get the serious part, sweetheart,” I whispered. “I’ll take care of that for you. No worries there. But now you should enjoy a little fun…”
I moved my hand to her inner thigh.
Her skin was warm… and only grew warmer the more I moved up…
“Just tell me when,” I whispered.
Wren had something to say. “Just stop talking, Jay.”
My pointer and middle fingers gently dug against the center of her panties. I moved my fingers up and down, feeling the soft cloth of her panties pressing against her slit. I did that just to feel her hips rock against my touch.
She sucked in a breath and I swore I heard her teeth chatter.
How long has it been, Wren? I want to know. Don’t ask why, I just do. I want to hear all about the last time you felt a man touch you… like this…
I moved my fingers up to the top of her panties.
They had a little bit of a laced edge to them.
I smiled.
My fingertips cut down into the front and Wren grabbed my wrist.
I stopped.
“Just tell me when,” I whispered again.
She tightened her grip on my wrist. Her nails dug at my skin.
I waited… one second, two seconds, three seconds…
Her hand opened and I continued with what I wanted from her.
Her pleasure.
I dipped my fingertips into her honey. She was warm and sticky, already halfway there for me.
I turned my head and looked at her.
She looked at me.
The room was super dark, and even with my eyes adjusting for the darkness, I couldn’t really see her. Just a faint silhouette.
Which was fine.
My fingers massaged her slit, going down and back up, then making wide circles. I just wanted to play with her soft folds. I wanted to tease her. I wanted to feel… her…
I curled my fingers to her pussy.
She was tight, gently puckering to my touch.
Her body jumped and thrust at me.
There she is… there’s the crazy beautiful woman in the dress I met in Vegas…
As long I knew she was in there when Wren was sober, I was happy.
I eased my fingers from her body and moved up.
I touched her soft clit and Wren groaned.
I watched the dark shadow of her hand touch her mouth.
“No need to be shy now,” I whispered.
I flicked at her again and she groaned again.
“Right there, sweetheart, right?” I asked. “Tell me, Wren. Tell me that’s your spot.”
“Right there,” she said in a breathless voice.
“Anything for my wife,” I said.
Two fingers moved against her clit with force and speed. If her body was a guitar, then her clit was the neck, and I was playing my guitar solo for a crowd of thirty thousand people.
Of course in reality, it was an audience of one and this was the most important show I’d ever play…
I gritted my teeth and moved faster.
I felt her body swelling. Her tender clit becoming a harder nub.
Wren rocked in the bed so hard that the entire thing started to move.
She took deep breaths, wanting to hide her groans.
She wiggled and writhed against my touch. I wasn’t going to give up until she came.
When she did, her back arched and she sucked in a breath.
Her body almost levitated off the bed.
There were a few seconds of silence before she crashed down to the bed and let out a loud groan.
She grabbed my wrist and pulled.
I kept going, rubbing her clit, feeling the rush of wetness pouring from her body.
“Say when, sweetheart,” I said. “Scream it…”
“When!” Wren finally yelled. “When! When! When!”
She clawed at my hand and I smiled.
I took my touch from her body and listened to her breathing.
“Goodnight, Wren,” I whispered.
She didn’t say a word back to me.
That was okay.
She was tired.
It was now after four in the morning.
And we had a very early start to our day.
Wren’s alarm was the worst sound I ever heard.
I did not live my life based on alarms.
I opened my eyes and looked at her.
She was on her side, still in her hoodie, but I knew what was really under the covers.
She turned the alarm off and turned to look at me.
“You’re awake,” she said.
“Did you hear that sound?” I asked. “That’s terrible.”
“That’s called waking up to an alarm, Jay.”
“People do that voluntarily?” I asked.
Wren laughed. “You’re something else.”
She started to move and I reached for her.
“Hey. Good morning.”
“Morning,” she said with her cheeks turning red. “Do you mind if I have a little privacy to put my pants on?”
“Ah, of course. Now you sound like someone who belongs in my bed.”
Wren shut her eyes. “I hate myself right now.”
I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I don’t hate you. Not even close.”
I climbed out of the bed and left the bedroom.
Wren joined me a minute later, dressed, looking sleepy and pretty.
“You’ve got that whole orgasm hair going on, sweetheart,” I said.
Wren gasped and touched her hair. “Is it bad?”
“Not to me,” I said.
“I need a bathroom,” she said.
“There was one in the bedroom.”
“I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” I said. “Just follow the smell of breakfast. Then we’ll go to see Grams.”
Wren nodded. “Okay.”
She went back into the bedroom.
I had a minute to myself to think.
She basically wanted to fake the real marriage to make her dying grandmother happy.
And people thought I was the one who made things complicated.
I walked into the kitchen where breakfast was already made.
Everyone in the band had a private chef. None of us wanted to cook and Toby insisted on it. His theory was he knew we were going to hurt ourselves with drugs, booze, and women, so at the very least he needed to know we were getting decent meals.
“Hey, Barb,” I said.
“Jay,” she said.
“How’s the husband and kids?”
“Good,” she said. “My youngest scored a goal last night in soccer.”
“Nice.”
“My oldest told me I’m a terrible mother.”
“Not so nice,” I said.
“I’m used to it. How many plates for this morning?”
“What makes you ask that?” I asked with a smile.
“Well, there are four women outside who are topless. I’m not sure if they’re sunbathing, sleeping, or dead…”
“Ah, right,” I said. “Just throw down a second plate.”
Barb went to cook and I waited for Wren.
When she came into the kitchen, in her casual jeans
and hoodie, I couldn’t help myself but smile. Whether she liked it or not, she had shown me two different sides of her and I was hooked on both.
“Breakfast,” I said to Wren. “Sit and enjoy with me. Barb is cooking up something good for us.”
Wren was hesitant.
Her face had that walk of shame look to it.
That was for her to work out on her own.
I had no shame for what happened.
Plus, it was just a little finger play. That was nothing. At least in my world it was nothing. I could play with a woman’s clit until she came while writing a song or warming up before a show.
I guess for Wren it meant something else.
We were so fucking opposite…
I liked it.
I climbed out of the car and looked at Wren.
Her face was red.
She was nervous.
I walked up to her and slid my hand into hers.
“I’m not going to do anything crazy,” I said. “I swear.”
“It’s not that,” she said.
“What is it then?”
“Nothing.”
She tried to walk and I pulled her back. “Don’t say that, Wren. What is it? You look…”
“It’s hard for me,” she said.
“What is?”
“You’re going to see her sick and dying, Jay. That’s not who she is. She was once strong and fierce. She’s the most important person in my life. This representation of her isn’t true. And I hate that. I hate that those who meet her now will never know who she once was.”
“Or maybe you’re full of shit,” I said.
“What?”
“I bet she’s the same,” I said. “You just see her differently. So what if she looks different? The heart is the same, Wren.”
Wren swallowed hard. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I can say something nicer,” I said. “I can write a song about your clit and how bad I want to taste it after last night…”
Her eyes grew large. “What…”
“I’m kidding,” I whispered. “Or am I?”
We walked to the door together and Wren opened it.
“There you are,” a voice called out. “I was… whoa.”
“Bethany,” Wren said. “Uh, this is-”
“Jay from FILTHY LINE.”
“Who? Me?” I asked.
“Jay, this is Bethany. She’s the greatest nurse ever.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said.
Bethany let out a nervous laugh. “This is real?”
“Real as can be,” I said.
“Can I have a moment to figure out who to ask you to sign something for and then take a picture with me?” Bethany asked.
“Of course,” I said. “Take your time.”
I watched as Wren gave Bethany evil eyes.
It was adorable.
“So the house isn’t all that, you know, fancy,” Wren said. “But we chose it because of the-”
“I don’t really care about the house you live in,” I said.
“Well, it’s not a mansion.”
“Who said it had to be?” I asked.
Wren didn’t respond.
She walked us to the first bedroom down the hallway and knocked on the halfway open door.
“Grams,” she said. “Good morning. I brought someone to meet you.”
“Where were you last night?” I heard an old woman’s voice say.
“She was out with me,” I said as I stepped into the room.
Wren gasped.
I didn’t need some introduction.
I wasn’t that much of an asshole to look at someone who was sick and not appreciate what they were going through.
The first thing I noticed about Grams was her eyes.
They were the same as Wren’s.
A set of honey gold eyes with a touch of brown throughout.
Was her hair thinned and falling out? Yeah. Did she look like a skeleton? Yeah. Did the hospital style bed and smell in the room give off the hint of sickness? Yeah.
Did that matter?
Not for one fucking second.
“Look at you,” Grams said to me.
“Look at you,” I said to her. “Why didn’t I meet you first?”
Grams laughed and I swore her cheeks turned a little red.
I put my hand out and Grams slowly gave me her hand.
She was bony and sickly and goddammit if that didn’t mess with my heart.
But her smile and her eyes were all the proof I needed that she understood her fate and there was no need to dwell on it.
And that… that was strength.
I bent forward and kissed her hand.
“So, let me ask you something,” Grams said as I let her hand go.
“Talk to me,” I said.
“Did you really marry my granddaughter?”
“No,” I said. I looked at Wren and smiled. “She married me.”
“We married each other,” Wren said. “See, Grams? He’s here. He’s real.”
“So, let me ask something else,” Grams said.
I laughed. “Okay.”
“All that bullshit on TV…”
“Oh, you don’t watch that stuff, do you?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Grams said. “I like it. I like the gossipy stuff.”
“Well, I have plenty of gossip to go around,” I said. “I travel the world. I see a lot of things.”
“Are those people who take your picture as annoying as they seem?” Grams asked.
“They’re terrible.”
“Did you ever hit one?”
“Many times.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“Of course I did,” I said.
“Have you ever been arrested?”
“Grams,” Wren said.
“What?” Grams asked. “We’re just talking.”
“Yeah, Wren, we’re just talking,” I said.
Wren’s face turned red.
“I’ve been arrested,” I said. “Many times.”
“That’s great to hear,” Wren said.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?” I asked.
“Oh, he calls her sweetheart,” Grams said. “I’m melting over here. This is too much. Hey, Jay, did you bring your guitar?”
“That, I did not,” I said. “We woke up and rushed out of bed and over here.”
Wren gasped.
“Out of bed?” Grams asked.
She made a groaning sound and smiled ear to ear.
Wren looked ready to pass out.
“Grams, excuse us for one second,” Wren said. “Jay, come with me.”
She grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room.
We stood in the hallway facing each other.
“What?” I whispered. “I didn’t do anything…”
“I know,” Wren said.
She jumped into my arms and kissed me.
16
WREN
I wanted to slap him. And I wanted to kiss him.
So I kissed him.
His hands grabbed my hips and pulled me against him.
Our tongues touched and I broke the kiss.
I wiped my lips.
“Well then,” Jay said.
“Shut up,” I said. “That was for… I don’t know. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not seeing what I see,” I said.
Jay shook his head. “I get it, sweetheart. Just take a deep breath. It’s fine.”
Jay went back into the bedroom.
I followed.
“Sorry about that,” Jay said to Grams. “Now, as far as the guitar goes… I owe you a private show. Hold me to it. Okay? I have to go to Seattle for a show. When I get back, I’m all yours.”
“This man is something else, Wren,” Grams said. “You better not leave me alone with him. I still know how to woo a man. I’ve still got the goods, you know? They might be a little deflated, but who
cares, right?”
“Oh, Grams, please…”
I touched my forehead and my cheeks were on fire.
“You’re going to make me blush, Grams,” Jay said. “And I deal with thousands of horny women every night.”
“Jay,” I said.
“How about this horny one?” Grams asked.
I gasped, fearing she was going to point to herself.
Instead, she pointed to me.
Jay laughed.
“You two aren’t allowed to be near each other anymore,” I said.
“Where’s Bethany with my coffee?” Grams asked.
“I’ll get it,” Jay said.
“You will?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Give you two a chance to catch up. Plus, Bethany wanted to take a picture with me.”
“Can I get a picture too?” Grams asked.
“Anything for a woman as pretty as you,” Jay said.
Grams’s face lit up and my heart melted.
Jay walked by me and casually touched my hand as he left the room.
I had no idea what was happening… but I didn’t mind it.
Things were crazy but calm. Grams was smiling.
And she was looking right at me.
“I can see it, Wren…”
“She what?” I asked.
“He makes you happy.”
“Grams…”
“Don’t argue with me,” she said. “I know you better than you know yourself. That man makes you happy.”
I nodded.
I wasn’t going to argue with her.
The marriage was real. The meaning was fake.
But now there was another problem.
“You two are meant to be together,” Grams said.
That was the problem.
Grams was never wrong.
“I want to know the entire story,” Grams said to me.
I looked back at the open door.
Jay wouldn’t be gone for long.
And I wasn’t sure what to tell Grams.
A little white lie here and there was one thing. Lying about the marriage was another. But to make up some kind of fairy tale love story… that was too far.
“The truth?” I asked. I smiled. “You’re not going to like it.”
A FILTHY Marriage (Filthy Line Book 4) Page 14
