My chest collapsed onto the bed. My breathing as labored as if I had run a marathon.
Jack rolled us to our sides, still embedded deep inside of me.
“Thank you,” I breathed.
“You amaze me, Beth, in so many ways,” he said. He undid the knot at the back of my head and pulled the blindfold off. “And it is I who owe you the gratitude. Thank you.” He gently kissed my shoulder, and pulled out of me, but with the plug still in place, I still felt full. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched as he walked in his spectacular naked form to the bathroom. Hesitantly, I reached around and touched the bit of the plug that remained outside of me. I was so shocked that it was there, and how good it felt.
Jack returned after cleaning his own parts and and then helped remove the plug and clean me up. We curled up and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER 45
I spent the night wrapped in Jack’s strong arms and slept as peacefully as an old lady in church. Saturday, I didn’t wake up until nearly noon. I rolled over and pulled Jack’s pillow to my nose and took in his scent. Spicy and sultry and sexy.
Jack made me lunch and we chatted as if we were an old married couple. We talked about news, movies, and work. It was a comfortable companionship. I wondered — if we were married, would we be so amicable? Would he hang around and watch me eat when he could be doing other things? The way things were with Greg?
Scolding myself for not packing an overnight bag, I went home in a pair of Jack’s sweats and T-shirt. I loved how they were scented like him, and I planned to keep them.
Showered and ready for the Saturday dinner shift, I left for work at three-thirty. I was really getting used to Anand driving me around, but I declined his offer to drive me to work. I enjoyed walking down Lexington Avenue, people watching, passing the pet store with the little puppies in the window, and stopping in the coffee shop to grab a quick cup of coffee for my shift.
It was a crazy shift, but I was on it! Tom and I worked together as well as Shelby and I did. We were quite simpatico.
Around ten, I was crouched down in front of the small fridge that held the bottled beer, re-stocking. Tom was in the kitchen dealing with a botched appetizer order.
“Excuse me, can you tell me if Elizabeth Fairchild is working tonight?” a man’s voice asked.
The familiar voice startled me so much that I dropped the bottle that was in my hand. It hit the rubber floor and the impact was enough to shoot the cap off and I got a Heineken shower. As quickly as I could, I grabbed the source of my dousing and dumped it in the trash. Without turning around, I grabbed the bar towel and started to dry off. I wasn’t going to turn around. I couldn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Shit! Fuck! Shit – Fuck – Shit! Glancing in the mirror that backed the liquor bottles, I looked for him. I couldn’t see him clearly, but the voice was unmistakable. After twenty-four years you know someone’s voice.
“Elizabeth?”
Go away! I shouted in my head. I must be dreaming. No. This is a nightmare. He must have seen my reflection on the wall of bottles.
I gathered every ounce of confidence I’d gained in my short three weeks here, and turned to face him.
“Hi, Greg. What are you doing here?” My voice shook. I didn’t know if it was from fear or anger.
He was not the same Greg I’d left. His sandy blonde hair was unkempt. He hadn’t shaved in the past few days, maybe even a week. His shirt wasn’t even ironed. His light blue eyes were hollow. In fact, he looked like he’d lost several pounds.
“I came to see you. I had to see you. What happened to your hair?”
My hand flew to the back of my head. This was his introduction to my new style. I’d chosen the spiky look today. I couldn’t tell from his expression if he liked it or not. But then I realized that I didn’t really care. I knew he loved my long wavy locks, but I never really cared for the long hair. Several times I’d talked about getting a short cut, but Greg always ‘talked me off that ledge.’ And I didn’t just love it because I looked fantastic with the style. I loved it because it was a symbol of my new self.
“I love it. Thank you for noticing.” My heart was racing in my ears. I didn’t even hear myself speak. I scanned the bar nervously. Where was Tom? I felt naked. I needed my friends.
“Can you take a break?” he asked. “We need to talk.”
“I know.” How do I get out of this? Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was only ten-fifteen. “I still have another hour and half at least.”
“You look good.” Greg searched my face and my body. He looked me over as if he didn’t recognize the woman in front of him. “You look so healthy and happy. Were you really so miserable at home?”
Home. The word was a sucker punch to my stomach.
Tom walked back behind the bar. “Hey, Lizzie. You’ve got a table,” he said brightly, with a wink. “I’ll take care of this fellow for ya. Whoa, did you lose a battle with the beer?”
“You could say that,” I said, forcing a smile. Tom wasn’t privy to my sordid history. Shelby was the only one at work I had confided in. Not that Tom wouldn’t understand or support, I just felt that the fewer people that knew, the better off I’d be.
“Shelby’s got extra shirts in her locker. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you grabbed one,” he offered.
“I just might just take you up on that. Thanks.” I rushed out from behind the bar, intent on hiding in the back room for as long as I could get away with.
On my way, I stopped in my tracks for a second time. And now I knew why Tom winked. The bar had just shrunk to the size of a closet. What the fucking hell was going on here? My new table was Jack. I should have known better. He said he’d stop by tonight. And god, did he look good. A snug black T-shirt and jeans. Fuck!
Stepping up to the table, Jack snaked an arm around my waist. I longed to have him touch me again, but not with husband standing on a few feet away.
“Stop!” I hissed, rotating out of his grasp. I went to stand on the opposite side of the table.
“What?”
“My husband is at the bar,” I whispered in the most serious tone I could make. Jack’s eyes scanned the bar. It was obvious who my husband was. It was the guy who was shooting daggers at Jack.
“What is he doing here?” he asked, poker-faced. I was suddenly very uncomfortable. I’d always had a good guess at what Jack was thinking or mood by his eyes and expression.
“He wants to talk.”
“Are you going to?”
“Jack, I have to. I owe it to him.”
Jack’s lips drew tight and he swallowed hard. He stared deeply into my eyes. He wanted to say something. I could see it. I didn’t want to hear it.
“What can I get you? Macallan?”
He nodded. “A double.”
“I’m going to change my shirt first. If you can’t wait, I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind getting it for you.”
I raced off to the back room. Inside, I shut the door and sat on a stack of boxes. I choked back tears and the bile that was rising in my throat. I was half sad at seeing how broken Greg was, and half pissed as hell that he wasn’t giving me the space I’d asked for, that he said he’d give me.
Inside Shelby’s locker, I found one of her back up shirts. A knit top with a low cut V. Not one I would have chosen, but I really didn’t have a choice. Behind her shirts, I spied a bottle of Johnny Walker Black. I recall her mentioning that it was in there one afternoon when she was completely frustrated with her ex’s non-stop calling. I knew she wouldn’t mind and would totally understand, so I snatched a paper cup from the water cooler, and poured myself a double. Letting the burn get to work at cooling my nerves, I returned to the bar.
Passing Jack’s table, I noted that he’d not had Tom get him his drink. I smiled weakly at him and went to pour him a glass. Behind the bar I poured Jack his scotch, avoiding eye contact with Greg by any measure. I de
livered Jack his drink, who gave an approving once over at my “new” shirt, then I checked in on my other 3 tables. I kept myself as busy as possible, not wanting to give Greg any ground to advance. By the time eleven rolled around, I was a bag of nerves.
Tom was rather loud when he announced that I was officially free to go, drawing the attention of both Greg and Jack. I clocked out and headed to the back room. I sat there for a good five minutes, trying to get my bearings together. What had possessed Greg to come all the way here? I asked for space. This was not space. But then again, he came here. He came after me. That had to count for something, right?
When I opened the door, Greg was standing guard. I dropped my head and surrendered to his pursuit.
“So, you want to talk?”
“I think we need to, Elizabeth. Don’t you? Or is it over? Do you want that other guy in the bar?” He stopped and searched my face for an answer, clenching his jaw. “Are you seeing him?”
I looked into his eyes that were welled up with tears. What was I doing? I hadn’t come here to hook up with a guy. I came to be independent. For the most part I was, but I was also behaving like a stupid college kid.
“Greg,” I said, putting a hand on his chest. “I just worked a seven hour shift. I’m desperate for a shower and my pajamas. Can we do this tomorrow? I work the lunch shift, but I’m off at four. I can meet you at eight?”
He placed a hand over mine. “Eight. That will work. Can I come pick you up at your apartment? Phoebe gave me the address.”
I guess I didn’t tell her to not give it to him.
I sighed and nodded. A smile spread across his face. He always had a really nice smile. He leaned in for a kiss, but instead of meeting his lips, I gave him my cheek. I instantly regretted doing that. Not only was it a shitty thing to do, but in doing so, I caught a glimpse of Jack standing at the end of the hallway. How much he had seen, or heard, I couldn’t be sure.
I pulled my purse over my shoulder. “I have to go. I’m dead on my feet. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.” I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on his lips. A small apology for dodging them just a moment ago, and started out.
I passed by Jack who had moved to the bar. His eyes tracked me until he would have had to turn his head. He didn’t turn. I said a silent thank you.
She said yes. That had to count for something, right? We could start talking. I could let her know how much I really did need her.
She looked so good. I was a disaster and she looked put together. Healthy. Yeah, she looked as if she’d seen a ghost when she turned to see me at the bar, but I’d shown up unannounced. It was clear that she was shocked to see me.
And that older guy in the bar. She seemed awfully friendly with him. What was that story? Had she actually taken me up on my offer for her to be with other men? Was she with him in that way? The thought left me cold. If she was going after a guy like him, and I was secure enough in my manhood to acknowledge that he was incredibly attractive, then what chance did I have? Especially now. I looked horrible. I made a mental plan to stop into a barber tomorrow and get cleaned up for our dinner tomorrow night.
CHAPTER 46
I was sound asleep when I heard a knock on the door. I looked at the alarm clock next to my bed. It read three eighteen. It was dark, so it must have been A.M. Who in the hell would be knocking on my door at such an absurd hour? I walked to the door carefully to not giveaway that I was up, and peered through the peephole.
Jack? How did he get up here? Where were the doormen? He must have paid them off. Jack didn’t look well. He was swaying slightly. How much had he had to drink at the bar?
Against my better judgment, I opened the door. Jack studied me with his big brown eyes – so lost. Without a word, he stepped into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him.
His lips crashed down on mine and pressed me against the wall… hungry… desperate. His mouth was scotch soaked. My body, the ultimate betrayer, kissed back with as much emotion. He shed his shirt as he walked us into the apartment. As we passed the kitchen, he stopped kissing me long enough to whip my top off, throwing it on the kitchen counter as we rounded into the bedroom.
He kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them down, then kicked them aside. He pulled back from me and started to drop to his knees, placing kisses all the way down – across my shoulder to between my breasts, my breasts, and my belly. When he reached my pajama pants, he slid them down and kissed roughly at my sex.
My knees started to buckle. He caught me and stood. He carried me to the bed and laid me down. In an instant he was on top of me, my arms stretched over my head and pinned down by his large, strong hand. He was kissing me again. Taking what he wanted. He moved with such urgency, as if his life depended on it.
He reached down with his free hand and slipped his fingers between my legs. Of course I was soaked. I was so ashamed. Always soaked when I was with Jack. He lined himself up and slid into me with one thrust. It was exquisite. He was thrusting with the same urgency he was kissing me with.
Suddenly I heard my front door open and close. My head turned to the bedroom door. Kevin appeared at the door. What was going on? Why was Kevin here? Did he see Jack come in all drunk and was worried?
Ohmygod!
I tried to push Jack off of me, but I couldn’t budge his magnificent body one inch.
“You here to help? Or watch?” Jack barked.
Shocked I turned to look at Jack. What was he saying? My eyes flew back to Kevin who was peeling his shirt off, tossing it aside onto the chair. He dropped his jeans and tossed them onto the same chair as his shirt. Kevin continued to walk up to the bed, and stopped at my head; his cock throbbing before my eyes.
“Take it, Elizabeth. Take his cock in your mouth,” Jack commanded.
Before I could even process what Jack had said, Kevin was shoving his velvety length into my mouth. Jack’s thrusting never slowed, and now Kevin was plunging into my mouth. I did my best to relax and take him all the way in.
The room was filled with grunts and moans and skin slapping. The smell of sex was intense.
Movement by the door again caught my attention. Greg was standing there. Not moving, just staring. I tried to beg Greg with my eyes for understanding.
I couldn’t read Greg’s expression. It was blank.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! I sat bolt upright and turned to my alarm clock. Breathing hard, covered in a light film of sweat, I frantically looked around my sun-filled room. The men were gone.
I flopped back onto my bed and shut my eyes to think about the dream that felt so real. Two men at once. What did that say about me? And that I let them keep going?
And Greg watching. Did I want him to join in? Did I want him to take over? I imagined what that would look like. Medium bodied Greg pushing sculpted Jack and Kevin aside, dropping his perfectly pressed Dockers along with his tighty-whitey-bun-huggers that he loved so much, and shoving himself into me?
I was a mess.
CHAPTER 47
Somehow I managed the Sunday lunch shift at work with only a few errors. The dream, or nightmare – I couldn’t decide which it was, had me distracted the whole time. My eyes kept scanning the crowd at the bar looking for Greg or Jack or Kevin to come in.
When I clocked out at four, I hailed a cab. I wasn’t thinking straight and this was probably a bad idea, but I couldn’t help myself. I climbed inside and told the driver, “Thirty eighth and third.”
I knocked on Jack’s door and was fearful that he wouldn’t be home, but those fears were alleviated when he opened the door, sweaty and standing in a pair of workout shorts and T-shirt. He took one look at me and pulled me into the foyer and closed the door behind me. Instantly, I burst into tears.
“Shhh,” he murmured into my hair, and pulling me into his arms.
“I’ve made such a mess of everything. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I just knew I had to see you.”
He brushed away the tears that were streaming down
my face and stared deeply into my eyes.
“I’m thrilled to see you,” he said, pulling me into his arms again. I breathed him in, his sweat, his cologne, his soap, his shampoo. All the scents that gave Jack his divine signature. I was calmed from just the smell of him.
“Make love to me,” I said in a small voice.
Jack pushed me back only enough to look me in the eye. His brown eyes full of hope.
“No toys or theatrics, just us,” I added.
In a motion worthy of a movie, he effortlessly swept me off my feet and marched us upstairs. He passed the room we always went to and went to the guest room.
Standing next to the bed, he stood me before him and kissed me tenderly. He reached behind me and pulled the covers back, then stepped away, pulling off his T-shirt and shorts. His cock sprang free and I had to catch my breath.
Next, he slowly pulled my shirt over my head, then worked my pants down my legs, running his nose all the way from my breasts to my junction. He lifted my foot to remove the pant leg, then the other, and set me on the bed. He then crawled over me and looked at me deeply. The other night his face was completely unreadable — right now, it was fully transparent. His expression was one of admiration, love and tenderness.
With a sweet kiss to my lips, he whispered, “I’ve worn protection so that you would feel safe. But the truth is four years ago I had a vasectomy. I can’t get you pregnant. And I’m clean, I swear. I don’t want there to be anything between us.” I searched his face. His gorgeous face. I ran my fingers over his perfect mouth. Lacing my hands behind his neck, I lifted my lips to his, returning his sweet kiss, and nodded.
He steadied himself and slid into me. He felt hotter. Stronger. Bigger. Gently he started rocking into me. I quickly matched his body, knowing just how he moved.
Ditching The Dream (Dream Series) Page 29
