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Beneath the Sheets

Page 17

by Shandi Boyes


  I turn my eyes to Ava, who is watching me sympathetically. “I pleaded guilty to the sexual assault of Gemma three weeks later.”

  Her eyes widen before darting between mine. “What! Why, Hugo? Gemma would have never testified against you. You saved her; she would have done the same for you.”

  I shake my head. “She tried, but Madden’s father offered to chair with the DA. Everything Gemma said during her testimony was twisted by him. He even made out to the jury that the time I walked in on Gemma showering in the male latrine was what started my ‘obsession’ with her.”

  I run my hand down my tired face, scrubbing away my tiredness while wishing I could erase the memories that haunt my dreams just as easily.

  Exhaling a deep breath, I turn my eyes to Ava. “I’ve always had a knack for reading people.” An edgy smile stretches across her face before she nods. “I could tell the jury was believing the lies the DA was telling them. Even with Gemma testifying on my behalf, they were going to find me guilty. To save my family name being tarnished, I requested a plea.”

  Ava’s smile becomes a tight grin when she wraps her hand around mine. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. The compassion in her eyes is all the comfort I need.

  “On the agreement that the nature of my charges were to remain undisclosed, I pleaded guilty to the sexual assault on Gemma and for battery in the second degree on Madden. I was issued with a criminal record, stripped of my ranking, and dishonorably discharged from my position within twenty-four hours of signing the plea bargain.”

  After wiping a tear off her cheek, she crawls across the minimal space left between us. A whizz of air parts my lips when she straddles my hips, wraps her arms around my torso, and presses her ear over my heart. I’m not going to lie, even with a morose mood suffocating my usual persona, I'm smiling, relishing having her in my arms again.

  A length of quiet crosses between us. It isn’t awkward, but rather comforting.

  “What happened to Gemma?” Ava queries a short time later, her voice low and filled with concern.

  I run my hand down the waves hanging halfway down her back. “She never returned to her position after the incident in the alleyway. We stayed in contact sporadically six months after I was dishonorably discharged, then I met you, and everything went a little crazy.”

  Her head pops off my chest, so her eyes can bounce between mine. A grin tugs on my lips when the corners of her mouth droop downward.

  “A good type of crazy.” I pinch her chin, angling her head up. “Those weeks we had together are the only thing that kept me going the past five years. Without them, I don’t know how I would have survived. If I would have survived.”

  She chews on her bottom lip, battling to keep her tears from flowing. “Me too,” she whispers. “Our memories, then finding out I was expecting Joel were the only things forcing me to get out of bed every morning.”

  I run a finger across her cheek, capturing a tear rolling down her pale face. “Please don’t cry.” I’ve seen enough tears seep from her eyes to last me a lifetime. “I’m so sorry, Ava. For everything I did, for everything I put you—”

  My words stop when a salivating pair of lips press up against mine, stealing my words and my ability to think. When she drags her tongue along the crest of my lips, I open my mouth. She slips her tongue inside, entangling it with mine and controlling the pace of our kiss. She tastes even better than I remember.

  I wrap my arms around her waist, drawing her in close, not wanting even an ounce of air between us. The husky moan spilling from her lips hardens my cock even more. I slide my tongue around her mouth, tasting and savoring every inch of her. I kiss her like a man starved of her taste, because I am. It’s been years since I’ve tasted anything as sweet as Ava’s mouth.

  She kisses me back with a sense of urgency, like she's afraid she may open her eyes and discover she's dreaming. I rub my hardened cock against the seam of her sweatpants, making sure she's aware she isn’t dreaming. Her hands glide under my shirt to run over the ridges of my stomach before they lower to tackle the belt of my jeans.

  Just as Ava slips her hand inside my jeans to grasp my erect cock, a little voice pops up to the side of us.

  “What are you doing?”

  Twenty-One

  Ava

  My hand shoots out of Hugo’s jeans like I’ve been scorched by an open flame instead of his thick cock. My bug-eyed gaze dances between Hugo’s smiling eyes for several terrifying seconds before I slowly filter them to the side. Joel is standing at the end of the couch. He has his sock monkey in one hand and an empty glass in another. I'm at a loss for how to respond to what he has just stumbled upon. Although I was in a “relationship” with Marvin the past nine months, Joel has never walked into a situation like this. Unless you include kissing Chase and Mr. Marshall on the cheek goodbye, Joel has never witnessed me kiss another man, let alone participate in anything as graphic as the sexual activity I was about to undertake. God, imagine if he was five minutes later?

  Joel rubs sleep out of his eyes while yawning. “I’m thirsty. Daddy forgot to fill my glass of water.”

  Hugo shifts his eyes to Joel. “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t realize you still woke up during the night.”

  From the leering grin on Hugo’s face, I can’t tell if he's apologizing for forgetting to fill Joel’s glass of water, or reprimanding him for interrupting us. There's one thing I do know, though, I need to get off Hugo’s lap. Just the vibration of his deep voice rocketing through my aching-with-need core is surging my libido to a never-before-reached level.

  “Let’s get you a drink, then it’s back to bed, mister.”

  A grin tugs on my lips when Hugo inconspicuously conceals his erection with a pillow after I slide off his lap. Joel shadows me into the kitchen, his steps sluggish and slow. I fill his glass of water to the very brim, eager to ensure he won’t require any more refills tonight.

  Nothing against my son—I love him more than anything in the world—but it has been years since I’ve had this level of rampant horniness surging through my blood. Just the stimulation I got from Hugo’s enthralling kiss was enough to have my orgasm sitting precariously on the edge of a very steep cliff. Keen is an understatement for how eager I am to get back to my make-out session on the couch.

  After giving Hugo a hug goodnight, Joel climbs back into his bed and snuggles into the pillow, his glass of water remaining untouched. I switch on his nightlight, carefully close his door and amble into the living room. My fervent steps falter when I reach the end of the corridor and notice Hugo standing in the entranceway, putting on his shoes. His eyes lift to mine when he hears my shuffling, dejected footsteps.

  “I better get going.” He puts on his last shoe. “It’s late, and you’ve got work tomorrow, and Joel has pre-school.”

  Putting the feeling of rejection to the side, I move into the kitchen to gather the Tupperware container full of pancakes I set aside for him earlier.

  A grin furls on his kiss-swollen lips when he spots me walking back into the foyer with the container in my hand. “There's only one thing sweeter than your blueberry pancakes.” His baby blues lift to my face. “You.”

  I have no chance in hell of concealing the grin stretching across my face. Hugo accepts the container from my hand before running the back of his fingers down my inflamed cheeks. I try not to nuzzle into his embrace, but the urge is too great for me to inhibit. I'm drawn to Hugo like a moth to a flame.

  “I really enjoyed tonight.” He peers at me with smoldering eyes. “Can we do it again?”

  He chuckles when I nod. I swear, nothing has changed. I'm once again rolling over begging for my stomach to be scratched, but I can’t help it. It wouldn’t matter how much time passes, when Hugo is in my presence, I become the braces-wearing teen flabbergasted by her high school crush. Everything Mrs. Marshall said this afternoon was true. Hugo has owned my heart longer than I have. And even having my heart torn from my chest and stomped on when he left
, nothing will ever change the fact he is my one true love.

  “How long are you back for?” I query, my words juddering as nerves dangle on my vocal cords.

  When I open my front door, goosebumps prickle my spine when a freezing cold air blasts through the crack of the door.

  A new type of coldness freezes my heart when Hugo mutters, “A week. I have some stuff I have to go back and sort out.”

  Noticing my despondent appearance, he cradles my cheek with his warm hand, covering my entire face. “I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to ensure I’m not away from Joel too long.” He lifts his gaze from my lips that are still tingling from our kiss to my tear-welling eyes. “I never want to be away from either of you ever again.” His chest thrusts up and down as he stares at me with beseeching eyes. “If I could take it back, Ava, I would. If I could take away your pain, make it disappear--”

  “The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased. It can only be accepted,” I interrupt, quoting what he said to me over five years ago. The same mantra I repeated every time he dropped Joel off last week, fearing he may not arrive the next morning as promised. Just from peering into Hugo’s contrite eyes, I’m certain my fears will never transpire.

  Hugo places the Tupperware container onto the entranceway table before running his thumbs over my cheeks, removing my tear stains.

  “Accept the past, embrace the present, and believe in the future,” he recites, staring into my moisture-filled eyes.

  The coldness of the crisp winter night is a forgotten memory as we undertake a mesmerizing stare-down. As always, the dynamic between us is electrifying, sparking the air with enough heat to make it feel like we are in the middle of summer. Hugo’s eyes, which had darkened during his confession about Gemma, get a familiar sparkle as fragments of the old Hugo, the teenage boy who stole my heart at the tender of sixteen, emerges from the dark shadows crippling his usual carefree composure.

  “I’m going to make this work,” he vows, glancing into my eyes. “Us work.”

  The saltiness of my tears flavors his kiss when he presses his plump lips to my mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I smile and nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  I watch Hugo slip into a rental car and drive away through the peep hole of my front door. He was adamant he wasn’t leaving the front porch until he heard the deadbolt click into place.

  Once his tail lights disappear, I lean my back against the door and inhale a deep breath of air. I’ve known Hugo more than half of my life, and I’ve never seen him be as open as he was tonight. He was raw and unguarded. Honest. Hugo has always been a communicator, but as he matures, his actions are out-speaking his words. The love he displays to Joel… to me, is greater than I could have ever imagined. I’ve always said there's no love greater than a love a mother has for her child. I'm starting to think that saying also applies to fathers.

  “Can I have a brother?”

  I slant my head to the side and peer down the corridor where the little voice is coming from. Joel is leaning on the wall outside of his bedroom. His eyes are narrowed tightly, and he's yawning. If he didn’t occasionally blink, I would have assumed he was sleepwalking.

  “I don’t want a sister. Angie and Katie are so annoying. Please, Mommy, can I please have a brother?”

  A grin curls on my lips from the tired slur of his words, making him sound like the little four-year-old he is. I’m not biased when I say Joel is a genius. He speaks well above his age, reads better than any six-year-old I know, and slaughters me anytime we play a game of monopoly. It is only moments like these do I realize his true age. He's a sweet little boy who has confused his nursery rhythms, believing it is the girls made out of snips, snails, and puppy dog tails.

  “How about we discuss the possibility of siblings after a few hours of sleep?” And a few glasses of wine.

  “Siblings?” Joel mutters, trying on the new word for size.

  “Siblings is a term for brothers and sisters,” I explain, gathering him in my arms.

  My heart warms when he slings his arms around my neck and nuzzles into my chest. I love Joel more than anything, but it was only when Joel was born did I realize the love you have for your partner is entirely different than the love you have for your child. Although both are as consuming as the other, they're unique and beautiful in their own way.

  When I lay Joel in his bed, his twinkling eyes lift to mine. His brows are stitched together, and his lips are pursed. “Does that mean I can have more than one?”

  “More than one what?” I query, tucking him in nice and firm, ensuring he can’t escape for a third time this evening.

  “Siblings.” He rubs his eyes with his balled fist. “You said ‘siblings’ not ‘sibling.’”

  I laugh. There's no greater innocence in the world than the innocence of a child. Not even a twenty-four-year old virgin.

  I grimace when Joel says, “I want five brothers.”

  Pressing a kiss onto his forehead, I switch on the lamp on his bedside table before ambling to the door. I’m knackered. Not just physically but emotionally as well. The past week has been a hazy blur of confusion. Hell, the past five years has been one devastating blow after another, but it feels like everything has changed in a matter of hours. My mind tonight is the clearest it has ever been. It is remarkable how much can change in a couple of hours, and how one man can alter my perspective of life so greatly.

  “Mommy,” Joel whimpers when I reach his door.

  I crank my neck and look at him.

  “I love daddy,” he whispers through a yawn before cuddling into his pillow.

  A vast grin etches on my face. “So do I, sweetheart, so do I,” I mutter to no one.

  .

  Twenty-Two

  Hugo

  Dumping my duffle bag onto the ground, I turn my eyes to Ava and Joel. Joel has his arms wrapped around his mother’s thigh and his big blue eyes are peering up at me, pleading for me to stay. I don’t want to leave my family. Leaving them is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I need to settle the tension between Isaac and me. I want the chance to explain my foolhardy action to him before leaving his empire in an honorable way. I’ve already left one position dishonorably in my life. I’m not going to do it again, especially not with a man of upmost importance to me. Once I’ve settled the dust between Isaac and me, the heavy burden weighing down my shoulders will lift, and I’ll be free to begin a new chapter in my life. A phase surrounded by my family.

  I’ve spent every waking moment with Ava and Joel the past week, not willing to miss a single minute. The majority of the second half of my week has been spent in a blur of playdates and fatherly duties with Joel while Ava settles into her new practice, but the past two days have been a little more subdued as the countdown to my return to Ravenshoe creeped upon us. Although neither Joel or Ava has verbalized their concerns about me returning to Ravenshoe, I’ve seen a shift in their personas the last two days. I’ll often discover Ava watching my interactions with Joel with a misting of tears in her eyes, and for the past forty eight hours, Joel hasn’t let me leave his side, even going so far as requesting for me to sleep on his bedroom floor.

  A grin tugs on my lips when Ava rolls her eyes as I noogie Joel’s head, messing his curls she just finished wrangling into order.

  “I’ll see you soon, buddy,” I assure him, crouching down to Joel’s level.

  The heaviness weighing down my chest increases when I spot the little tears pricking in the corners of his eyes.

  “Yes, Daddy,” he replies, his words coming out in a whimper.

  I wrap my arms around his trembling shoulders and pull him into my chest. The pain in my heart turns lethal when his little sobs sound through my ears.

  “I’ll be back soon. I promise, Joel,” I swear, drawing him in tighter.

  “We’ve got all that practice we need to do before try-outs,” I murmur into his ear, saying anything to stop his concern that I�
�m not going to return.

  His quivering lips tremor against my neck when he nods his little head. It breaks my heart knowing I'm the cause of his tears. Every small tear directly impacts me.

  “Don’t tell Mommy, but I snuck a few packets of candy into your sock drawer,” I whisper into his ear.

  His head shoots off my neck and his eyes dart between mine. Seeing the truth projecting from my eyes, a grin stretches across his face, rapidly drying his tears. I return his smile while wiping away the tear-stains from his pale cheeks. After giving him a final noogie on the head, I rise from my crouched position and shift on my feet to face Ava.

  For Joel’s sake, she's putting on a brave front, pretending she isn’t upset about my departure. When Ava initially suggested she could drive me to the airport, I declined her offer. Not because I didn’t want to spend every moment with her and Joel, but because I can’t stand the thought of leaving her at the airport crying. The memories of her walking away from me in this exact airport still agitate me. I thought those six years would be our longest separation. How wrong was I? Only after Ava assured me she wouldn’t cry did I agree for her to drop me off. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her into my thrusting chest.

  “This time is different, Ava. We were young back then, just kids. Nothing could keep me away from you now. Not a single thing,” I say, intuiting that the memories of that day are also steamrolling into her.

  She runs the edge of her sleeve under her eyes before nodding.

  “Don’t tell Joel, but you might want to check his sock drawer when you get home. I may have gotten a little excited with the amount of candy I left in there.”

  A winded grunts sounds out of my mouth when Ava elbows me in the ribs. The weight on my chest eases when she pulls away from our embrace and I see the grin tugging her lips high.

  “Leave him a couple of packets?” I plead, my words barely a whisper to ensure Joel doesn’t overhear our conversation.

 

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