by Lauren Snow
“Jenson. You’re right,” she admits. “Everything you’re saying is spot on. I think I’ve been lying to myself this whole time. Trying to convince myself that me and Travis are good when we’re not. I shouldn’t be with him. That’s the honest-to-God truth. He’s not right for me. He comes and goes as he pleases, he’s selfish, he doesn’t clean up after himself, he takes my money a lot of times and spends it on bullshit. He’s very disrespectful to my parents and my friends. He loves to bicker over the littlest things. And this is all stuff that other people have seen and tried to warn me about, but I was clearly blind to it. I even used to make excuses for him, telling people, ‘Oh, he’s not that bad’, or ‘You’ve gotta give him a chance. He’s actually a great guy’. In hindsight, all of that was a lie. I protected him to save face and not look stupid.”
“That’s understandable, Therese.”
“I really shouldn’t be with him,” she adds, covering her face and sucking in a huge breath. She sniffles.
I peel her hand from off of her face. “Therese, look at me. If that’s really how you feel, then why are you still with him? Go with your gut. Your instinct and the people around you are telling you something. Don’t ignore it.”
We sit and talk for another hour and a half before deciding to leave and go back to her place. Her boyfriend, Tommy or Trey or Travis—whatever his name is—is gone.
“Who knows,” Therese says. “Maybe he’s out doing him.”
I chuckle without meaning to. I know exactly what she’s alluding to.
“Or he could be at work. But perhaps he is doing him,” I say. “And if that’s the case, then you, my dear, have all license to do you.”
She smiles and fetches two wineglasses from the kitchen. “I’ve got some white, I think. Is that okay with you, Jenson?”
“That’s fine.”
She pours our drinks and sits next to me on the couch. “Cheers to a haphazard high school reunion,” she says, raising her glass.
I laugh. “Salud!”
We clink glasses and take sips.
“This is actually really good,” I remark. “What year is this?”
“2015, I believe?” She reviews the bottle. “Yup. 2015. This was a gift from my sister.”
“She’s got good taste.”
“She thinks she does,” Therese counters, laughing. “You should see how she dresses on a daily.”
I laugh along with her. “Don’t do your sister like that. I’m sure she won’t approve of you saying these things about her,” I tease.
Therese and I joke with each other, and poke fun, and indulge in at least five or six rounds of wine. Her eyes are glassy. She’s getting tipsy. Much like myself. My head feels like it wants to float right off of my shoulders. I’m starting to feel a buzz, not just in my brain, but all over. An electrifying buzz. That love/lust/infatuation surge I’d felt before returns. The wine only amplified it. I’m fixated on Therese.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but you look beautiful today.”
She blushes. “Thanks, Jenson. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Therese leans over and plants her hand on my thigh. She slides it back and forth over my leg, sending sensually-charged signals through my body. My manhood starts to swell. She looks at me longingly. I get the feeling this is a moment she’s wanted forever.
I wrap my arm around her and caress her shoulder kindly. She nestles up against me like a daughter does her father.
“Daddy’s here,” I whisper in her ear.
She looks up at me and smiles. For a moment, she studies me, to see what I’m thinking. I run my fingers through her soft hair. It smells amazing, like roses and apples. My hand travels from her head down to her waist, where it stops and settles. I squeeze gently and she stirs with desire.
I lean in and peck the corner of her mouth, just to see if she tastes as good as she smells. My lips sneak toward the center of hers. They’re tender, soft, and vibrating. Buzzing like a wild beehive. We hold each other tightly. My heart starts to race. Our breathing hastens. My hand glides over to her inner thigh. I explore her flesh—as much as the fabric of her pants would allow.
It isn’t long before those pants are no more. Then mine are no more. For the first time, we get to see what each other looks like out of clothes. Therese and I can’t resist. We make love. And it is honestly the best thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
CHAPTER NINE
“Did we just—” I can’t even get the full sentence out. My brain is running faster than my mouth can process. I stare at Jenson, panting, sweating, panicking.
I think I just cheated on my boyfriend.
“We did, Therese,” he says. It’s hard to tell if he’s remorseful. His tone is so matter-of-fact.
I want to blame him, but I can’t. It takes two to tango. And boy did we have a dance. My everything hurts. I think I’ll be retiring my legs for a while.
I haven’t had sex like this in, well, ever. Nothing came to close to it. Nothing.
“You okay?” he asks, looking into my eyes.
Yeah, Jenson, of course. I’m swell. Aside from the fact that I just slept with another man in my boyfriend’s apartment. Couldn’t be better.
I feel bad about what I just did. But I also feel incredibly liberated. It’s a weird mix. I’m more confused now than I was before.
“You look like you could use some time to think,” Jenson says, getting up from the couch and slipping back into his briefs. He shimmies into his pants and fastens them with his belt.
I don’t say a word. I’m still having a deer-in-headlights moment.
“Listen, Therese. I know this whole thing is awkward for you. But I think you know where you belong.” He buttons up his crisp white shirt and starts for the door.
“Hey, Jenson?” I stop him before he leaves. “I’m gonna fix this.”
He turns around, smiles at me, and walks out the door.
For the rest of the day, I sit in angst waiting for Travis to come home. I’ve rehearsed what I’m going to say to him a million times:
“Travis, I want you to know something. I have to be totally honest. I have been seeing someone else. Someone from my past. The dynamic is complicated. But he and I slept together.”
That’s the basic script, with a few edits here and there every time I go over it in my head. A few variations are quite harsh with no punches held. Others are much more flowery and civil. The goal is to get somewhere in the middle.
Travis gets home at about eight o’clock that night. He’s just getting off work—at least I think he is.
“Babe, can we talk for a sec?” I waste no time in ripping off the band-aid. Let’s get this over with. No need to prolong it.
“Sure,” he says. We sit at the foot of the bed as he slips off his shoes and tosses them across the room. “What’s up?”
My chest throbs relentlessly. “Okay. I’m just gonna say it. I ran into an old acquaintance at my job. And this guy, he’s someone that I’ve liked for a really long time. Since I was really young, actually. We started talking, and uh . . .”
“Okay,” Travis says, crossing his arms. I can tell he already knows where this is going.
“. . . he and I slept together. Earlier today.”
My confession sucks all the oxygen out the room. The silence is so thick in the air that it’s clogging my canals.
“So this is what you do?” he says, massaging his chin broodingly. “You sleep around while I’m out trying to work so I can provide for us?”
I feel a sudden burst of fire erupt inside me. There’s no way this man is going to try to turn this around on me.
“Sleep around? You make me sound like I’m some whore or something,” I shoot back. “I never slept around on you, Travis. This was the first and only time I’ve had sex with anybody other than you and it was an honest mistake.”
“Ha! That’s what you call it? An honest mistake? Lying down with another person while being in an exclusive relationship
is far from an honest mistake.”
“I got caught up in the moment! How’s that? That’s what happened, Travis. I’m sure you can relate.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, don’t act clueless, Travis, c’mon. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been out here sleeping around yourself.”
I didn’t know that for certain, but he sent up all the red flags that told me otherwise. Nine times out of ten, he’s guilty of the same thing he’s crucifying me for.
“So you’re accusing me of philandering,” he chuckles. It’s one of those nervous laughs. The kind that incriminates you automatically. It must be true then.
“If the shoe fits, Travis,” I say. “You’ve been suspect for a while in my eyes. I just never said anything until now.”
“That’s really how you feel, huh? You’re gonna flip this around on me?”
“Yes. I am. And to be honest, it’s long overdue. I should’ve done this a while ago. But I was stupid. I wanted this to actually work.”
“You wanted us to work, but you slept with another guy. In my house, at that. Okay, Therese. Convince yourself if you must.”
“Are you kidding me right now? You’re lucky I even came to you and told you the truth in the first place. I could’ve kept this to myself and you’d never be the wiser. Apparently, that’s what you like to do. But I’m actually an honest person.”
Travis stands up and goes to stuff his feet back in his shoes. “You clearly have no problem doing you, so I’m gonna go do me.”
“Haven’t you been doing that? Go. Be merry. Sleep with the whole city of Philly if you want. Don’t let me stop your good time.”
“Fine. I will.” And with that, Travis storms out of the room.
Just like that, I think we’re over. After three, long years, after one argument, that’s the series finale. The Travis and Therese show has run its course.
I call Jenson. He answers on the third ring.
“Hey, Therese.”
“Hey, Jenson.”
“Everything okay?”
“No. Me and Travis just had a fight and he left. So, I’m all alone.”
I don’t know why that last detail was important to mention. It’s like I’m inviting trouble back over for a round two.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I told him the truth. I told him that you and I had sex. And he reacted exactly how I figured he would.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah. I guess I fixed it, didn’t I?” I chuckle.
I thought that I could repair this confusion I was feeling by being honest about my feelings. But it backfired. Horribly. Tears boil up to my eyes. I sniff them back.
“I’m coming back over,” Jenson says. “Okay?”
I release a heavy, downcast breath. “Okay,” I say.
Jenson comes over less than half an hour later. We sit and talk, and I vent about everything I’ve been feeling since he walked into the clinic a few days ago.
“I think I’m in love with you,” I blurt out. My subsequent urge is to melt into the floor. I can’t take the words back. They’re already out there, floating and processing inside of Jenson’s head.
He stares at the floor, then up at me. “Do you really?” he asks.
“I think I do. I think I always have, really. It was dormant for the longest time, but you revived it.”
Jenson smiles and touches my leg. My whole body shivers with desire.
“So where do we go from here?” he asks. “Do you wanna give us a shot?”
The question stirs up a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. “Of course I do.”
His hand creeps toward my waist and we lean toward each other. He gives me the most passionate kiss I could ever imagine.
MEDICAL BILLIONAIRES LOVE SERIES
BAD LOVE BOOK 1
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081DS1CCV
HEALED LOVE BOOK 2
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081W1FNGB
ENOUGH LOVE BOOK 3
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081XL2WRL
MERCY LOVE BOOK 4
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081XLSRT9
FOREVER LOVE BOOK 5
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081XSBJQB
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I have been writing numerous steamy romances and short stories for over three years. I pride myself on giving my audience what they want: drama, suspense, and passion. My aim is to create stories that are engaging and relatable. With an educational background in storytelling and an extremely vivid imagination, I can’t think of a more fitting calling than being a writer. I list authors Tana French and Danielle Steel as inspirations for my love of writing.
I am very honored to have be hitting the TOP 10.
