“Aw … but daddy, I want to play some more.”
“Tomorrow’s another day to play.”
“But tomorrow you’ll be busy with Amy again.”
Damn, why do these kids see through so much? “But she’ll be leaving tomorrow, too. So don’t you worry, I’ll have much more time for you after she’s gone. Then we’ll go back to just you and me.”
She frowns. “Is she really going away?”
I nod and tuck her in. “Yes, sweetie.”
“But I don’t want her to leave!”
“I know, sweetie, but sometimes people just have to go somewhere else. Someone is waiting for them there.”
“What about us? Aren’t you waiting for her, daddy?”
I chuckle. “Well, that’s a bit different, Maddy.”
“But you like her, right?”
I flush and smile. “Yeah, well …”
“Why can’t she stay then?”
I sigh, my eyes lowering to the floor. Kids have such basic thoughts. It’s both cute and admirable how easy they think about life. I wish I could still do that.
“That’s not really for little girls to know. It’s grown up business, Maddy. You don’t have to worry about that yet.”
She pouts, folding her arms together. “I’m not going to sleep if she won’t stay.”
I chortle. “We’ll see about that. You can’t stay awake forever.”
She lifts her head and ignores what I say, making me laugh. Stubborn little thing. Yep, that’s my kid all right.
I kiss her on the forehead and put out the light. “Goodnight, Maddy. Sweet dreams.”
“Night night, Daddy,” she says, as I close the door.
Damn, she’s clearly getting attached to that girl. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen, because it makes it all the more difficult when she leaves. Well, at least Madeline knows what she wants. Me, on the other hand … I’m a thundering mess.
Yep. Time to get a drink.
Chapter 8
Amy
I hate him. God, I hate him so much. How could he do that to me? First he looks under my skirt, and then he tries to swoon me over? I swear he was trying to kiss me. Goddammit, he didn’t kiss me.
I throw the knives and forks into the water, and it splashes up into my face. The soap’s splattered all over me. Great. More dirt on me. Fantastic. As if it couldn’t get any worse.
Scrubbing the dishes, I can’t help be callous with it. I’m pissed. Pissed at him and myself. He just keeps on sending these signals I don’t understand, because he also keeps pushing me away. It’s as if he’s playing this game and this time I’m his target. I’m sick of being that to men. I don’t want to be a prize or a catch or a laugh, I just want to be welcome. To be wanted, to be loved. That’s all I need.
But Jack’s not going to give that to me.
I don’t know what’s up with him, but he seems screwed up. Here I thought I was the one who had problems. I snort, thinking about this friction between us. It’s not worth my time. I’ll be gone tomorrow and that’s that.
Although I have no idea what the hell to do when I’m on my own again. Where do I go? I have nobody to lean on. I don’t want to go back. There’s no way in hell I’ll get back with Ronnie, and I don’t want to see Nicole yet. It just doesn’t feel right.
Guess I’ll be on my own again.
Just thinking about it makes me feel depressed again.
I sigh, rubbing the plates until they’re clean enough and stacking them on top of each other.
The door slams, and I know Jack’s inside. His boots stomp across the floor, uncaring to the muddy boot prints he’s leaving. I turn my head and briefly glance at him. Holy shit. He isn’t wearing a shirt.
He kicks off his boots and runs his fingers through his wet hair. He looks beautiful, with his flexed muscles that strain with each movement. His tense abs gleam with sweat. I’m struck in awe.
I gulp and turn my head away. Don’t look. Don’t look. You can’t handle it, Amy.
I rigorously scrub the dishes, trying to forget what I saw, but the image is lodged into my mind. I can’t forget that delicious body.
“Your car’s running again,” he says, putting the keys on the kitchen counter. “Just ran a test drive.”
I stare outside, looking at my car that’s drowning in the rain. Great.
“Thanks,” I say, a little too blunt.
I hear him open the fridge. I quickly take a peek and see him take out a bottle of beer. He opens it and chucks the cap in the bin. He’s holding the bottle straight up to his mouth, his muscular physique makes me want to keep looking. But this isn’t right. He’s gulping down the beer as if there’s no tomorrow. Gobbling it down until it’s empty.
He lets out a huge breath and slams the bottle down on the counter. The sound makes me jolt up. Jack walks past me, I feel the breeze of his movement pass my back, and it makes me shiver. He opens the cabinet to my right, high above us, and reaches for another bottle. This time it’s pure Bourbon.
I drop the dishes in the water and stop, wondering what he’s going to do. My eyes widen as he opens the cap and starts gulping directly from the bottle. Gasping, I snatch the bottle from his hand.
He frowns. “Hey!”
“What is wrong with you?” I say, and I set the bottle aside.
He grunts. “Give that back.”
“No. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I need a drink.” He reaches for the bottle, but I tuck it farther away so he can’t reach it.
“Needing a drink is something totally different from what you’re doing. You’re binge drinking.”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are.”
He squints, coming closer and closer. I can almost feel his alcoholic breath on my skin. He’s completely soaked from the rain, his bare chest glinting. How much constraint do I need to put myself through? God.
“So what if I am. It’s my house. I’ll do what I want,” he says.
“I don’t care. I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”
“Why? You’re the reason I’m drinking in the first place.”
“What?” I say, my mouth dropping open.
He snorts. “Well, maybe not the only reason. But one of them.”
“You can’t be serious. What did I ever do to you? You wanted to help me out, fix my car, and take me in for a few days. That wasn’t my idea!”
He leans closer and I draw back, afraid of what he’s going to do. He places his hand gently on my cheek, caressing me. I’m stunned by his touch. He’s so close now, I can almost feel the heat radiating off him.
“You did nothing. You’re just being you. And it’s making me crazy,” he says.
Frowning, I say, “I’m making you crazy? What the hell are you—”
I can’t speak. His lips are crashing into mine.
He’s kissing me. Jack’s kissing me. His lips are full of passion and desire. They’re crushing mine. I never thought he would, that this was all a daydream, but it’s real. He’s really kissing me. For a moment I forget all the worry in the world. With his lips on top of mine, it feels like heaven. I don’t want him to stop.
Jack clenches my face between his hands, pressing his lips on top of mine. I weave my arms around his neck and pull him closer. His hands move down my neck and wrap around my waist. He’s strong and towering above me, embracing me completely. I love all of it.
His taste, his touch … they’re so different from what I’m used to. From what Ronnie gave me. This is totally different. I’ve never felt this much excitement before, and it seems as if Jack’s much more consumed with desire. As if he actually thinks I’m sexy.
I twirl my fingers through his long hair, and he moans into my mouth. His tongue finds his way inside and circles around mine, playing with me, exploring me. I need more, so much more.
It’s as if he can read my mind. His fingers slip underneath my shirt, and for a moment I hold in my breath. It f
eels strange to have another man touch my belly, and especially since Ronnie never liked doing it.
But I overcome my insecurity when Jack’s fingers slide up my ribcage. He makes groaning noises when he reaches my breasts, and I gasp. He starts kissing my neck, and I lean sideways, giving him free reign. He’s kneading my breasts while kissing my collarbone. His body is pressing against mine, and I can feel the bump in his pants push against me. I tell myself I want this. I need this. I need love to overcome my sorrow, even if it’s wrong. I don’t care. I need love to numb the pain, so I give in to passion.
My hands slide down his pectorals, and I can feel his rock-hard abdomen. Kissing and panting, I grasp for his belt buckle and undo it.
Suddenly he releases me and pushes himself off me. I stare at him, still gasping for breath. His mouth is open, and he’s breathing loudly. Jack frowns and wipes his mouth, as if he’s disgusted with himself.
“I … I can’t do this,” he says.
Tears well up in my eyes. How could he say that? How dare he?
“What?” I stammer.
He turns his head and leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, burying his face between his hands. “I can’t … Amy.”
“How could you?” I say, my voice crumbling.
He shakes his head and sighs loudly. “Please … don’t.”
“You asshole! You’re messing with me, again!”
“Please … just go.”
“What? You’re going to kick me out?”
“Just leave me alone!” he says, partially whimpering. I can hear the crackles in his voice, but it doesn’t move me. All I feel is hurt.
I grab the keys and run out the kitchen. I go upstairs, fetch all my clothes and dump them into my suitcase. Hauling it down the stairs, I fight the tears. Ignoring him completely, I step out into the rain, slamming the front door behind me. The ground is even muddier than last time, but that won’t stop me. Willing away the tears, I hurry to my car and get inside. The rain is pounding onto the glass, and I struggle to fit the keys in.
The car starts, and the noise from the engine drowns out the pain in my heart. When the lights turn on, I see Jack standing there, right in front of my car. He’s holding up his hands, his head lowered between his sagging shoulders. He just stands there, getting doused by the rain.
He yells something, but I can’t hear him. All I see are his lips moving. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be in pain anymore.
I turn the wheel and step on the gas so I can get the fuck out of here, but Jack runs with me and throws himself in front of my car. My heart beats in my throat. I jam the brakes as he puts his hands onto the hood. He’s staring right at me, dripping water all over. He’s soaked, and his arms are spread wide, ready to take the impact of a car.
I roll my eyes. Does he want me to drive over him?
Opening my door, I carefully step outside and still manage to land in a giant puddle of mud. Jack walks to my side and holds out his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Amy.”
I purse my lips and feel the tears flow down my cheeks. I can’t stop them anymore. Not that it matters. It’s dark outside, and the rain will make it look like generic water, even though I’m bawling my eyes out right now.
“How could you say those mean things?”
He takes a step closer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m just … confused.” His eyes lower to the ground. “I’m fucked up, Amy. I have a history, all right? And it’s not something I like to bring up with strangers.”
“What history?”
“That’s not going to be of help here. I just know that I can’t jump into a relationship like that. Not with Maddy, not with …” he swallows back the words he was about to say.
“Well, then I guess I should leave, right?” I open the door again, but he slams it shut, jamming his hand against it.
“No, please, don’t.” He comes even closer, and I take a step back. “Please don’t leave.”
“Why shouldn’t I? You just told me you wanted me to leave you alone.”
He sighs. “It’s not like that. I didn’t mean it like that. Please, I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then what do you want, exactly? Because I don’t fucking understand. One moment you want to kiss me, the next you’re disgusted.”
“I wasn’t disgusted. I never was and never will be. You’re beautiful.” He comes into my safe circle and places his now cold hand on my arm. “I want you.”
“Then why do you back off each time? I can’t take it anymore.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry before you realize that I mean it.”
Now I’m the one sighing. I sniff, and I think he realizes I’m crying, because he put his other arm around me to. He pulls me into his embrace and rocks me sideways. “Oh, Amy. I’m sorry I made you cry. I should’ve never said those things.”
“No …” I say, whimpering. “You made me feel like shit.”
‘I’m sorry. You’re not. I want you. I need you. I’m just afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid of this. Us. What it mounts up to. What it grows into. We’re both in denial about what happened to us. Can’t be good.”
“I know.” Gazing into his eyes, I see genuine hurt in them. “I’m afraid, too, but I know I want this. I don’t care if we’re each other’s rebound or whatever.”
“Tell me you won’t go,” Jack says, cupping my face between his fingers. “Just for a few more days. Or longer.” He nuzzles me like a lover. “I want to learn not to be afraid. I want to learn to love again, but it takes time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know … But if you leave we’ll never get to try. Take the chance. Besides, Maddy already misses you,” he says, chuckling.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, she was really angry about you leaving.”
I laugh. “I’ve never been very good with kids, so it’s funny that you mention that.”
“Maybe you’ve just learned to like them. As I’ve learned to like you.”
We smile at each other, and I know I don’t want to go. I was actually hoping he’d come and convince me to stay. Now I know he really does feel the way I feel. If only just a little.
He presses his lips firmly onto mine, and I wrap my arms around him. He holds onto me like he never wants to let me go. I don’t remember what happiness is, but this future I imagine I’ll have with Jack comes close to it. I can only call it bliss.
###
End of BLISSFUL Vol. 1
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Clarissa Wild is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Blissful Vol. 1 Page 7
