8 Weeks

by Bethany Lopez

  “Um … I don’t know, I guess,” I stammered. “I’ve always wanted to do these things, but I didn’t think you’d like it, so I never did.”

  “Jesus,” Cal exclaimed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I want you to do what you want to do … I always have. If you want to tattoo your entire body, shave your head, and dye yourself blue … go for it. I’m not your ruler, Shelly, and I can’t believe that you’ve ever thought that I would dictate what you could or couldn’t do.”

  “It’s not like that …” I said, trying to explain, but the hurt radiating off of Cal was palpable, and it suddenly didn’t seem like anything I’d say would help.

  “It sure as hell seems like that, doesn’t it. Is that what you think of me, of the last six years of our relationship?” Cal took a step closer to me, his voice low so as not to broadcast our fight to the entire restaurant. “No wonder you’re so quick to give up … I thought we were in a partnership, Shel. I’ve never expected you to ask my permission to do anything. I love you, for who you are, and I want you to do what makes you happy.”

  My heart pounded loudly in my chest, and I felt a mixture of regret and fear running through me.

  “Cal, you’re taking this the wrong way. Yes, I’ve always wanted to do the things I’m doing now, and I didn’t because I didn’t think you’d like it.” His eyes narrowed at that, and I rushed on, hoping to make him understand. “Not because you wanted to dictate what I did or didn’t do, but because you liked me so much the way I was that I didn’t want to change anything. I wanted you to find me attractive …”

  Cal’s face smoothed out at my words, and when I was finished, he stepped even closer. Close enough that I could smell the mixture of sweat and grease on his body, and see his chocolate eyes darken as he said, “Never doubt how attractive I find you, Shelly. You were hot as hell before, and you’re hot as hell now. There isn’t anything that you could do to your appearance to make me not want you. I want you every minute of every day, Shelly. I promise you that.”

  “Cal, your order’s ready,” the guy behind the counter shouted out suddenly, causing me to jump.

  My heart was beating rapidly and my breath was shallow. When he turned to grab his order, I stood there for a moment, trying to gain my bearings.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Cal said as he moved passed me toward the door.

  “Cal,” I said quickly.

  He turned and waited for me to say what I wanted.

  “Text me about Saturday,” I said. He nodded and walked out, leaving me feeling more conflicted than ever.

  Chapter 29 – Cal

  I stood in Shelly’s kitchen … again, waiting for her to finish getting ready. I’d told her to dress up and be ready to go at six, but when I’d arrived she asked me to give her a few more minutes.

  I checked my watch, saw that we still had enough time, then glanced around the kitchen. This was the first time I’d been here during the day, and the place had “Shelly” written all over it.

  She’d gone with a blue and yellow theme, which made me think of U of M, although I’m sure that wasn’t her intent. There were colorful appliances, towels, and yellow flowers in blue-pitcher-style vases. It looked fresh and homey. Shelly had a knack for making a house a home, no matter where she lived.

  I sighed as it hit me …. I may not ever live with her again. I probably needed to remove myself from Scott’s home and find a place of my own, but I didn’t want to. I could be honest with myself and say that above all, I was hoping that after our next three dates, I’d be moving in here with Shelly.

  Did that make me optimistic or naïve?

  I probably needed to come up with a backup plan. It was time for me to give Scott his space back, and figure out what I was going to do with myself, if Shelly still wanted a divorce when this was done.

  After the events of the last week, I had to admit that things weren’t looking good for “Team Cal.”

  I heard the tapping of heels down the hall, and looked up to see Shelly enter the kitchen from the hallway.

  Her hair was swept up, leaving her neck exposed. I’d always loved the soft expanse of her neck, and often spent a lot of time there, nuzzling or brushing my lips along the length of it. She was wearing a dress that hit just above the knee and swayed a bit when she walked. It was a halter-style dress, and I’m sure she picked it to show off her new tattoo, the script dark and sexy against her creamy skin.

  She looked amazing, from the top of her head to the point of her black heels. My body grew taut with the familiar tug of longing, and I felt comforted in the fact that my wife, even after six years, turned me on like no other woman ever could.

  “You look beautiful,” I said, walking over and offering my arm to her.

  “So do you,” she responded with a smile.

  It wasn’t often that I wore slacks and a tie. I was more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, but the look on Shelly’s face as she looked me over was making me think I could become a convert.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She picked up her little black purse and nodded.

  Once we were settled in the car and en route to date number six, I felt excitement and apprehension. Excitement, because we were about to do something that Shelly had always really wanted to do since she was a little girl, and apprehensive, because we only had two more dates.

  Two more Saturdays.

  Two more weeks.

  I looked over at Shelly’s profile as I drove, trying to take her in and memorize how she looked in this moment.

  I honestly didn’t know what my life looked like without her in it, and I didn’t want to.

  “So … Where are we going?” Shelly asked with a grin.

  I shook my head and mimicked closing my lips and locking them with a key, then threw the invisible key to the side, causing Shelly to laugh.

  We rode the rest of the way in companionable silence, and when we reached our destination, I slowed down a bit, allowing Shelly to look out the window to see what was written on the bright marquee.

  She gasped and squealed, “The ballet?” She turned to me in awe, clapping her hands together like a little girl. “You’re taking me to the ballet?”

  I nodded, trying to keep a smile on my face, although I expected the next few hours to be more like a jail sentence than something to clap about.

  I escorted her inside and to our seats, all the while Shelly chattered excitedly about how she’d always wanted to see the ballet, and had dreamed of being a dancer as a child. I knew all this of course, hence … the jail sentence, but I was really happy at how thrilled she was about this date.

  The lights went down and the music began to play. Shelly sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes wide, an expression of utter happiness on her face. I glanced at the dancers on the stage, then turned my focus back on Shelly. I’d rather watch her enjoy the show than suffer through the show itself.

  I settled back into my seat, my gaze on my wife’s face, watching as it went through a myriad of emotions. Happiness, sadness, awe, and even a little pain. I loved how utterly enthralled she was by the performance.

  As the ballet drew on, I began to battle the exhaustion of the day. I’d gone in early to help TJ with an engine repair, and we’d had complications trying to meet the deadline, so I was physically drained. The music lulled me, until the little pink people jumping across the stage became a blur and I fell into darkness.

  I heard a giggle and a snort and opened my eyes to blinding light, with Shelly leaning over me and poking my arm.

  “Wake up, sleepy-head,” she said softly.

  I sat up quickly and tried to look alert.

  “I wasn’t sleeping,” I saidhurriedly , trying to get my brain to catch up with what was happening as people began to stand up and file out of the theater.

  “Yes you were,” Shelly said with a stern look and her finger pointed at me. “You totally fell asleep.”

  “No,” I argued. “I just closed my eyes
for a minute.

  “Try thirty minutes,” she countered, unable to control her smile any longer. “I think you snored.”

  “I did not,” I replied.

  Shit, had I fallen asleep for a half an hour?

  I looked up at Shelly, worried that she’d be pissed that I’d slept through our date, but she didn’t look angry at all. She had the same dreamy expression she’d worn since we pulled up to the theater.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “That’s okay, Cal,” Shelly said, her eyes dancing with delight. “I’m so happy you brought me to the ballet. I loved every minute of it, even your snoring.” She giggled again at the look on my face.

  I felt bad.

  “Thank you so much for bringing me. I know it’s the last place in the world you want to be.”

  I lifted my hand and stroked her bottom lip with my thumb, looking into her eyes as I said sincerely, “I want to be wherever you are.”

  Shelly gasped, her eyes darkening as my thumb continued to caress her. She opened her lips slightly, her tongue flicking out to lick my thumb as it stilled, then said, “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 30 – Shelly

  My body felt like it was on fire. On. Fucking. Fire.

  Watching the dancers had been sensual and beautiful, but when I’d turned to see that Cal had fallen asleep next to me, I’d been overcome by lust and longing.

  He was so handsome in his button up and tie, his hair styled perfectly messy. His face had looked more peaceful than I’d seen in ages, and I’d wanted so badly to lean over and kiss his full lips.

  A couple of weeks ago, I’d have done just that. I would have caressed his face and used my tongue to part his lips and wake him up.

  I’d felt a pain in my heart as I watched him, knowing how I wanted him, but no longer able to claim him as my own. At least not until I made up my mind as to what our future would be.

  When he’d woken up he looked so deliciously rumpled that I knew I wanted to take him home, but when he’d brought his thumb to my mouth, caressing me softly … That want became a furious need.

  I unlocked my door with shaky hands, then motioned for him to come inside. He walked straight to the kitchen, causing me to frown. I’d wanted to take him into the living room and attack him, but I guessed that I could make the kitchen work.

  He stood at the counter, waiting and watching my approach. I slowed a bit, putting an extra swing in my hips, eyeing him appreciatively as I walked. His tie was slightly askew, so I reached up and pulled the knot, loosening it a bit, then using it to pull him to me, my mouth fusing with his.

  I kissed him greedily, hungrily, and he met me stroke for stroke, bringing his hands to my hips and pulling me tightly against him. I shifted him, guiding him away from the counter and toward the table, my lips never leaving him, just growing more frantic. I kissed along his jawline and down his neck, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne and feeling the impact of that scent at my core.

  I broke away, quickly grabbing a chair and turning it, then pushed him gently back to make him sit.

  He watched me, his eyes dark with need, as I stood in front of him and turned, keeping my eyes on him. I reached back and slowly pulled my zipper down, watching his eyes follow my hand as it made its descent, exposing skin along the way. I stopped, right above my bottom, and I pulled the fabric apart slowly, his gazing sweeping my naked back as I pulled the sleeves down and let the top of the dress drop, leaving only my bottom half covered.

  I widened my stance and began to shimmy out of the dress as I bent slowly at the waist, exposing the satin bikini briefs that barely covered my ass. His hands reached out, caressing my cheeks softly, reverently, causing me to groan at the delicious feel of his hands on me.

  I stepped out of the dress and pushed it to the side, then turned, clad only in my heels and panties, before bringing my hands up to my hair.

  Cal’s eyes focused on my breasts as they lifted with my movement, and I felt completely and totally empowered.

  I took the pins and barrettes out of my hair and shook my head, allowing it to fall down around my shoulders. I ran my hair through the thick tresses briefly, hoping to make them look tousled and sexy, rather than crazy and out of control.

  I stepped closer, reaching my hands out to unbutton his shirt. He watched me, not moving to help me undress him, but leaving me totally in control, as if he could tell that’s what I needed.

  I pulled his tie over his head and pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. He let it fall and lay bunched on the chair, and I reached for his pants. He lifted his bottom for me, so I could pull the pants down his leg. When my bare breasts brushed his legs, he let out a hiss that I felt to the bottom of my toes. My body was tense and yearning, eager for release, as I fumbled with the tie on his dress shoes. When the knot didn’t want to come undone, I pulled the shoes off roughly, then yanked his pants off and stood.

  I straddled him, both of us naked except for our underwear, and leaned in, trailing kisses up his chest and neck, brushing my breasts along him as I moved. When I reached his lips, I paused, just a breath away from touching him, and brought my eyes to his. He looked deeply into me. I licked my lips slowly, then leaned closer and licked his. There was a second of tension before our control snapped, and we came together with a fury of desire.

  I rocked against him as our lips met, trying to ease the painful need that was burning through me. My hands caressed his body, touching, teasing, and scratching softly, as if I was trying to brand every inch of him with my touch.

  Cal kept one hand at my hip, as the other traveled up my back and into my hair. He fisted it softly and tugged, causing my head to fall back and expose my neck for his kiss. He kissed and licked along the length of my neck, across my collarbone, and then gently licked the script of my tattoo. I watched through heavy eyes as his head came back, then dipped lower, and his mouth found my nipple.

  I moaned loudly and rocked harder, feeling his cock thicken and grow with every thrust. I felt the overwhelming need to have him inside me.

  Now.

  I reached between us and opened the flap in his underwear, so his cock sprang free. I stroked it, running my thumb along the tip and growing hotter as Cal groaned against my breast.

  I quickly moved my panties to the side, stood on my tiptoes, and slid him into me as I sat back on his lap. We stilled for a moment as I stretched and became adjusted to the length of him inside me, then I brought my gaze to his and began to move. Slowly at first …

  He brought both hands to my hips and helped guide me up and down. My breath hitched and I closed my eyes, letting the sensations take over.

  It felt so good … I never wanted it to end.

  I felt one of his hands come to my breasts, and I moaned louder as he pinched my nipples between his fingers.

  I began to ride him harder, then slowly pulled myself up the length of him before slamming back down to ride him again. I watched Cal’s face, and as his eyes became heavy and his breath became shallow, I felt the orgasm rip through me.

  I rode it out, my body spasming and contracting around him, and I smiled triumphantly when I heard Cal shout out with his own release. His hands back on my hips, he rocked me gently, milking out the last of his orgasm, and I let my head fall to his shoulder. When we were both still, I sighed contently and softly licked the base of Cal’s neck. I loved the salty taste of him, and the sound of his heavy breathing in my ear.

  After a few minutes, our breathing evened out, and I began to feel my legs getting stiff.

  I leaned back slowly and looked at Cal with a smile.

  “I’m gonna go clean up,” I said, not really in any hurry to move, my body soft and pliant.

  “Can I stay?” Cal asked his gaze intent on my face.

  I felt my body begin to tense with the knowledge that my response was not going to be what he wanted to hear. I wasn’t prepared to spend the night with him.

  I shook my head sadl
y, “I’m not ready for that.”

  I felt the hurt on his face, as much as I’d ever felt my own.

  “So … You can have sex with me, but you won’t let me hold you?” Cal asked, shifting so that I had to stand up or fall off.

  He stood as well and reached for his pants.

  “Is this some kind of payback?” he asked gruffly.

  I shook my head. It wasn’t … was it?

  No, as much as I felt betrayed by him, I’d never withhold my love as a means of revenge.

  “Cal, it’s not like that. I’m just not ready to have you sleep over. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I don’t want to let you in, only to hurt you more in the end.”

  “Shit, Shelly, you think this doesn’t hurt? It’s going to hurt whether you let me sleep over or not. You can’t keep running hot and cold. You can’t fucking strip in front of me and let me have your body, but keep your heart out of it.” He dressed quickly and looked at me in sorrow. “You. Are. My. Wife. I. Am. Your. Husband.”

  I felt his distress, but I couldn’t spend the night in his arms, snuggling and sleeping together as if nothing had happened. I wasn’t emotionally ready for that yet.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes beginning to fill. “I can’t give you what you want right now.”

  I picked up my clothes and ran back to my bedroom. I cleaned myself up and washed my face before putting on my pajamas and walking back into the kitchen.

  I walked in and looked around with a heavy heart. Cal was gone, and everything was put back in its place, as if nothing had ever happened.

  Chapter 31 – Cal

  I hadn’t spoken to Shelly all week, other than to text her to let her know that I would pick her up the next night and that she could just dress casually. She’d responded with an “OK” and that was it.

  I wasn’t sure how we were going to react when we saw each other again; we’d left things pretty badly after our last date.

  The sex had been amazing.