HisMarriageBargain

by Sidney Bristol

  “Okay,” Autumn replied slowly.

  Aaron circled the bar and tapped his brother on the shoulder. Michael turned, glancing from Sammi to Autumn.

  “My brother Michael. Michael, this is Sammi’s wife Autumn.” Aaron’s mouth curled up in a suspicious smile aimed at Michael.

  Michael wiped his hands on a towel and reached across the bar to shake both Sammi’s and Autumn’s hands. “Glad you could make it tonight. It’s been a while, Sammi.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, man. Been busy lately.” Even if he hadn’t been busy, Sammi had lost interest in this particular grouping of people a long time ago. The Persian culture in America and the wealthy young adults from the temple were out of touch with reality, too concerned with their bank accounts or checking off all their cultural rules.

  “That’s our man Sammi. Making it rain.” Aaron grinned and fist bumped Sammi.

  Of the two brothers, Michael was the easier to stomach. He was guilty of stirring the pot on occasion, but not to the degree of Aaron.

  “Would you like some wine?” Michael asked Autumn.

  “Do you have beer instead?” Autumn asked.

  Michael glanced at Sammi, showing more consideration than he’d credited the other man.

  “Oh no, what he’s asking is if you would like wine.” Aaron placed his hand on the counter and turned his gaze on Autumn. His beady little eyes regarded her more as a thing for his amusement than a person.

  “Aaron’s not explaining that the next event of the evening includes wine,” Sammi interjected, glaring at their host. It took Sammi’s sheer will not to deck the guy in his irritating face.

  “Sure, I’d love a glass then.” Autumn’s smile was too big, too bright.

  “Sammi!” The female voice could cut glass, and sliced through the din of music and chatter easily.

  Not this. Not here. Not now.

  He groaned and turned to face his ex-girlfriend.

  Dalya must have just had a fresh round of Botox, because her face didn’t move an inch. In fact, her smile was more like a grimace.

  “Hello, Dalya.” He stuck his hand out to keep her at arm’s length.

  “Oh stop it. That’s not how you greet your friends. How have you been?” Dalya wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down, shoving his face in her hair.

  “Busy.” He extracted himself from her grasp as soon as was polite and turned to Autumn, who was surveying his situation with an amused smile. “Dalya, let me introduce you to my wife, Autumn.”

  Dalya froze for a moment. She slowly turned to stare at Autumn. “You married that?”

  Sammi stepped between the women. Not because he thought Autumn needed protecting. No, Dalya didn’t need to pick a fight with Autumn. “Dalya—”

  “Please, I want to hear what she has to say, Sammi,” Autumn said loudly, one hand on her hip, the other holding a very full glass of wine.

  “I didn’t know you were so hard up you were slumming it.” Dalya tipped her chin up, giving Autumn a cool, disdainful look.

  “At least my face moves when I talk,” Autumn replied.

  Sammi sputtered, unable to keep from laughing at that jab. He’d often thought the unnatural way Dalya’s face didn’t move was disturbing.

  Dalya gasped and glared at him, though her words were directed at Autumn. “Bitch.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes. “Is that all you’ve got? Please.”

  Sammi could see Dalya’s mind scrambling to put together a response. Whatever she might say wouldn’t help Autumn’s case to this group.

  “That’s enough.” He grabbed Autumn’s arm but she didn’t even acknowledge him. This had been a mistake. They never should have come. This was getting out of hand. All eyes were on them. They might as well be in a ring at this point.

  “At least I’m not wearing some thrift store outfit.” Dalya pursed her lips, and still not even a line creased her face.

  “Yeah, and?” Autumn snorted and rolled her eyes. “At least I don’t spend my daddy’s money. I buy my own clothes. So what if I had enough for a dress and a cheeseburger? At least I know how to eat one.”

  Dalya stared at Autumn, her jaw slack. Sammi could see the meltdown coming. He grabbed Autumn’s arm again, but before he could pull her away, Dalya launched herself at Autumn, slinging her glass of wine and dousing Autumn with the red liquid.

  That brought the crowd to action. Onlookers lunged for Dalya, but Autumn grabbed her first, twisting and shoving the stick-skinny woman against the bar. Autumn upended her glass of wine onto Dalya’s back, soaking her hair. Calmly Autumn set the glass on the counter and turned to him.

  “You bitch,” Dalya screeched, sputtering and wiping wine off her face. Two men held her back.

  “I’m ready to go. Are you?” Autumn asked, ignoring the red patterns staining her dress.

  He nodded and offered her his arm. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Arm in arm, they walked out less than twenty minutes after arriving, their heads held high, and still clueless as to how the situation had dissolved so fast.

  * * * * *

  Autumn entered their house, clenching each shred of dignity close to her chest.

  “Will you talk to me now?” Sammi shut and locked the front door.

  If she said anything, even a single word, she was going to cry and she wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her break. Autumn had been objectified and harassed in her life, but never had people looked at her with such utter disgust and loathing for simply breathing. It was evident that Dalya wasn’t the only one who thought she’d committed some sort of sin by being with Sammi.

  “Autumn?” He followed her into the bathroom, but she ignored him. Fuck him and his overly righteous so-called friends.

  She wheeled on him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “You knew this would happen.”

  “No. I expected Aaron to be a smug ass, people to make comments about me, not you. I did not expect Dalya to outright attack you. If I’d had any idea tonight would turn out like this we wouldn’t have gone. I swear to you on my father’s grave. Please, I’m sorry.”

  It wasn’t good enough. He’d fumed all the way home but never allowed her to vent her frustration. She wanted to be done with it. Move on already, except the evening was wrapped around her. She pushed her glasses up and wiped her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup.

  The scent of red wine was soaked into her clothes and hair. There was no escaping the sensory reminder. She turned the showerheads on and kicked out of her shoes. At least they were unscathed. She stripped out of the rest of her clothes and popped her contacts in while Sammi leaned against the bathroom counter, watching.

  Autumn stepped into the glass-walled shower stall and closed the door. Steam fogged it over almost immediately, giving her a little privacy. She stood facing one of the three showerheads and slowly released her death grip on her emotions.

  Pain stabbed through her chest anew. Every time she thought people couldn’t get worse, they did. What kind of people invited her into their home to be judged and scrutinized?

  Sammi hadn’t seen it as he led her into the house, but the openly disgusted, judgmental and sneering guests hadn’t hidden their thoughts from her. Rebekah had warned her on St. Maarten that the Jewish community would not welcome her. She hadn’t expected outright hostility, and that didn’t even include Dalya.

  At least Autumn understood Dalya. She’d met the woman once before in passing at a club, and she couldn’t blame her for wanting Sammi back. They weren’t the first women to fight over a man and they wouldn’t be the last. Autumn’s only regret was that she hadn’t punched the bitch in the face. But that aggression had been aimed at their hosts, not Dalya.

  She shuddered and sucked in a breath. If there were tears she couldn’t feel them now, and that was what she wanted.

  The shower door opened and closed behind her and her skin prickled at the gust of cooler air. She shivered and inhaled a deep, calming breath.

  Samm
i wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He’d tried talking to her after they left, but words were the last thing she wanted or needed. It wasn’t what was spoken that cut. People had called her much worse with more creativity. It was the regard she was denied. As if she weren’t human.

  He released her, only to grab the shampoo. She could see him in her peripheral vision squeeze some into his hands. He slicked it over her hair, pulling the length away from her back and working the lather into it. She tipped her head back and let him comfort her in this small way.

  She couldn’t help chuckling at him. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

  “Not really.” He glanced from her hair to her face, his smile tight. “I’m sorry. I just thought they’d be stuck-up, I didn’t expect Dalya to do this.”

  Autumn pulled her hair from his hands and began working the lather into her roots. Maybe it was some warped sense of innocence from childhood she’d never lost, but Autumn saw all people as equals. The hobo on the street was just as worthwhile as the businessman or housewife. They were each made up of the same pieces, just dressed differently.

  “Dalya is actually the thing I’m least upset about. I don’t get the sense of entitlement. That guy, Aaron? I’ve seen him before. The way he treats people—it’s disgusting.” It had only been at a club a time or two, but the way he’d treated the waitresses was horrible. A person like that didn’t deserve what he had.

  “I know. I’m sorry, Sunshine. I just… I don’t know. I thought we could get through the evening without them being assholes.”

  “Why would you even pretend to be friends with those people? They’re nothing like you.” Sammi wasn’t a saint, but he was polite to everyone and she respected that.

  “I’m not friends with them. We all go to the same temple and it’s a small community.”

  “And that means you have to play nice with them?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I don’t get that. I would never associate with those people.” She tipped her head back and washed out the soap, taking all evidence of the wine and evening with it.

  “Yeah, not sure why I ever ran with that crowd.” His voice was full of self-loathing.

  Her gut reaction was to comfort him, but in this she couldn’t. She wouldn’t ask Sammi to change, but if he realized he could change maybe he’d learn something.

  Sammi wrapped his arms around her again, bringing their bodies into line. “Why didn’t I meet you earlier in life?”

  “You were too busy being like them.”

  “Touché.”

  “Not really. I bet you weren’t ever like them. Your dad taught you too well.” She traced the black-and-gray Superman tattoo on his arm. It had been his first. She’d inked it a year ago and their friendship had begun in earnest.

  Autumn looped her arms around his neck and lifted up on her tiptoes. Sammi took her up on her offer, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips.

  “Is it wrong if I admit thinking about you and Dalya fighting makes me laugh?” One side of Sammi’s mouth curled up.

  Autumn tipped her head back and laughed. “Nope. As far as fights go, that was pretty pathetic.”

  “Oh, she’ll be talking about it for years. By this time tomorrow you’ll have broken her nose or something. I think I saw more personality from her tonight than in all the time we were dating.”

  “Here’s a tip. Don’t talk about your ex when you’re naked and wet with your wife.”

  “You’re naked? And wet?” He glanced down, his brows crawling up his forehead. “Look at that. You are naked.” His hand slipped between her legs. She widened her stance, allowing him to dip his fingers between her folds. “I think you could be wetter.”

  She grinned and lifted up on tiptoes for another kiss.

  Her husband liked her; forget the rest.

  Sammi pressed her back against the cold tiles, one hand cradling her face, the other dropping to her breast to pluck her nipple. Autumn groaned as the his fingers on the tight peak sent sensation zinging to her pussy.

  He grasped her arm and turned her. She flattened her hands against the wall and widened her stance.

  Autumn didn’t need words, only him.

  Sammi gently bit the tendon on the side of her neck while his hands roved over her breasts, down her stomach and over her hips. She felt him trace one of the cupcakes tattooed on her left arm before biting the frothy frosting.

  She sputtered and laughed, glancing over her shoulder to catch his grin. His gaze was serious, as if he saw deeper.

  “I love hearing you laugh.” Sammi pushed her hair over her shoulder, kissing a line to her neck.

  The hard press of his cock against her ass was a promise. He’d fuck her and they’d forget everything that had happened tonight. Tomorrow would be new. Different.

  Autumn felt the head of his cock slide between her thighs. It didn’t matter if her skin was slick with water or her arousal, she was wet, and feeling him inside her was what she wanted. She tilted her pelvis and he glided through her folds.

  “Shit.” He groaned and thrust.

  She gasped and pressed her cheek against the tiles. Warm water pelted her from every which way, so the cool surface was a relief.

  Sammi flattened his hand against her abdomen, guiding her to the perfect angle. He thrust again and they moaned in unison. His cock filled her, sliding deep, proving that she was, in fact, plenty wet enough. Slowly he thrust again and again. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.

  A warmth built inside her, starting in the vicinity of her heart and spreading lower.

  Autumn loved him. She did, and the voice inside her head was screaming, “Sammi, I love you,” but her lips never moved. That vulnerable sentiment stayed safely locked away. But she could still love what he did to her, how he reached around and tweaked her nipples, startling a surprised squeak out of her.

  It made her a little crazed, focused her on the sensation of his cock between her legs, thrusting harder and harder. He dropped a hand to her mound, cupping her and wiggling his fingers until one found the piercing. As he thrust he worked the needy button until incoherent, almost animalistic sounds spilled from her lips.

  Sammi thrust harder and she was especially glad for the no-slip rubber floor. As he drove into her she shattered, screaming her release. He dug his other hand into her hair, forcing her head around and taking possession of her mouth in a savage kiss, drawing her lower lip into his mouth, nipping it. The thrusts became jagged, uneven until his whole body tensed, growing rigid behind her.

  For several moments they froze, mouth to mouth, their bodies locked together. Degree by degree Sammi relaxed first, pulling his weight back so she wasn’t smooshed up against the wall, releasing her hair and easing his body from hers. He hissed into her ear as he slipped free.

  Autumn turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. Instead of a happy, sated smile, his features were tight, completely what she didn’t expect post-orgasm.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sammi slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders. “I didn’t use a condom.”

  A cold chill gripped her core.

  Those words were her worst nightmare.

  Disease.

  Pregnancy.

  She’d always been careful. It was the one point where she went completely counter to her nature to seize the moment.

  “Autumn?”

  Never had she let a man come inside her. Not since the first few times when she’d been flat-out lucky. A friend’s mother had given her a swift, horrifying education on how worse off her life could be with a teenage pregnancy or contracting something from a partner.

  But she was on birth control. The issue was Sammi’s health, and that wasn’t a communicable disease.

  “Sunshine?”

  Autumn blew out a breath and swiped a hand over her face. “It’s okay. Let’s be more careful next time?”

  Sammi nodded, the tension easing slightly.

  She stepp
ed back and into the direct fall of the water. Wordlessly they both washed up. Was the misstep okay? There had been other men she’d loved and not allowed that privilege.

  He was her husband though. And in that, a certain rightness clicked into place for her. She’d live on after him, but he’d always be in her heart.

  “Finished?” Sammi asked.

  “Yeah.”

  He turned the shower off and stepped out before her. He had a towel ready for her the moment her foot hit the bath mat.

  “Is this your way of sucking up?” she asked.

  “Maybe. I just don’t want you to be upset.” He ran his towel over his body.

  All she wanted was to be in bed. After a quick dry she took her contacts out and tossed her towel over a bar. She walked out of the bathroom, crawling straight into bed as naked as she’d been born. Sammi followed her, towel still in hand.

  “You’re going to bed?”

  “Yup.” The sandwich she’d eaten before going to the party hadn’t been much of a dinner, but she was too emotionally exhausted to think about food now.

  Sammi tossed the towel behind him and flipped off the lights. He slipped into bed beside her and she scooted closer, wordlessly asking to be held. She settled against his chest, wrapped up in his arms, skin on skin.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah. Dalya is a nonissue. I don’t like your not-friends. And we can just agree to be more careful. Got anything else you want to throw at me tonight?” God, she hoped not.

  “Lunch Sunday with my mom?”

  Autumn buried her face against his shoulder. That was Sunday. This was Friday. She had time.

  “Sure.”

  * * * * *

  Tamara paced the length of Rabbi Abraham Ginzberg’s office. Another young rabbi sat at the table with Abraham, but she didn’t care about him.

  “He simply cannot be married to this woman,” she said again.

  “Tamara, please sit down,” Abraham said, gesturing to the third seat at the table.

  She did as he requested, the urge to do as a man bid her too strong to ignore. There was nothing in her that had to like it, just as she did not like the choices her son had made. Despicable choices.