I’m only more turned on when Jack lifts his head and begins to grimace. He arches his back, slamming harder and deeper into me until he lets out a loud, guttural groan, the release of his seed burning inside of me. His ejaculation snaps me into another orgasm that is even stronger than the last as he continues to empty himself into me.
I don’t want it to end. I keep a tight hold of him, loving the way the hair of his beard and chest scratches against the smoothness of my skin and the way in which he still fills me with his manhood.
But, eventually, it does end.
Instead of collapsing his full weight on top of me and allowing himself to dwell in my warmth, he moves to the side and pulls out. I feel raw and empty without him, but that’s tempered when he slides his heavy hand over my stomach, grips his hand around my side and then pulls me close to him.
When he gets a hold of his breaths, he says, “That was amazing.”
“For me too.” I’m unable to hide my smile that I’m sure spreads from ear to ear. “I didn’t know it could feel that good.”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” There is real concern etched on his handsome face.
“Kind of, but—”
“You should have said.” He slides his hand up and down my back. “That’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
“It was going to hurt one way or the other, Jack.” That much I knew.
He looks down between our bodies, and shame fills his eyes again. “You bled, Natalie… a lot.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have…”
I don’t follow his gaze, not sure I want to see the evidence of my lost virginity staining the blanket. Instead, I slide a hand over his strong, bearded jaw. “I’m fine, Jack. Please don’t turn this into something bad, because it was something beautiful to me. Okay?”
He sighs, his internal fight with himself evident. “It was to me too. It’s just… I don’t want to take advantage of this situation or you.”
“You aren’t! I promise you. Michael was never very worried about my feelings, so I’m thankful that you at least care. But you have to trust me when I tell you I wanted this. I’ve wanted it since that first night—”
“That I kissed you?”
I nod.
“And I’ve wanted you every second you’ve been here, Natalie. A guy can only jack off so many times.”
The way he says it, so comfortably around me, I can’t help but to laugh, and he joins in.
“See? We don’t have to be serious all of the time. We can laugh about things, can’t we?”
“Sure, okay. I guess you’re right.” He brushes some hair out of my eyes. “Maybe you’ll get another chuckle out of what I’m about to say.”
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
He looks over to the ice chest. “I’m famished. If we’re going to do this again, I’ll need to eat.”
He had me at again.
“Eat up!” I tell him.
Chapter Fourteen
JACK
Natalie is sleeping peacefully when I wake up, her body facing mine, a few of her fingers curled in the hair of my chest. I’ve got morning wood I’m kind of desperate to deal with, but the urge to just lay here and look at Natalie is stronger.
There is a peace in lying next to her, one I haven’t felt since Marjorie. Along with that peace is a desire and a dream for the future. I don’t think I’ve allowed myself to imagine a future with anyone, but I can do it now, easily picturing waking up to this same view for the rest of my life.
She stirs, dragging her fingers down toward my stomach, but she’s still asleep, and I lay a hand on the curve of her hip, wanting her to wake up so I can trace the rest of her, so I can pull the sheet back and look over the beautiful curves of her naked body. I don’t know how she made it twenty-one years without losing her virginity. I imagine guys trying to bust down doors to get to her, willing to wade through whatever they had to just to have a chance. But Michael had claimed her, and she’d obviously felt some commitment to remain faithful to that. But she’d obviously felt something just as strong when she walked away from him, and I hope to god she won’t change her mind and that it’s really over with him.
Because now that I’ve had her, have been inside of her and am now holding her this close to me, I can’t imagine letting her go. I can’t fathom going through a day without seeing that beautiful face of hers, the light freckles over the bridge of her nose, her doe-like eyelashes, big blue eyes and the hair I decide looks a bit more blonde in the morning light than it does brown.
She’d wanted to have sex again after we’d eaten the picnic lunch yesterday, and I’d wanted it to, but she’d admitted how sore she was, and I wasn’t going to be that guy—I wasn’t going to put my needs over hers. I’d pretty much ordered here inside and told her to have herself a bath while I’d cleaned up in the lake. That was the nice part about having property on a lake this isolated and with only a few other houses at opposite ends of the shore. You could have sex with a beautiful girl right in plain view, then head into the lake naked and clean off.
I’d brought her strawberries in her bath, then told her I was going to work on the back porch. She could have given me guff for that, but she just smiled and said she’d read a book. Later on, we had dinner, and I’d insisted she sleep with me in my bed. No more of this separate room business.
And I’d slept so good with her next to me, better than I’d slept in a long time. I’d also woken with a sense of optimism, even if there are worries that still make themselves known in the recesses of my mind.
“Mmm…” Natalie smiles, her eyelashes fluttering open, treating me to her baby blues.
“Morning sleepy head,” I say, giving her a smile right back. “You sleep good, or did my snoring keep you awake?”
She slides her hand back from my stomach to my chest. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Nothing?” I look sideways at her. “I’ve been told I’m a pretty heavy snorer.”
She smiles like she’s well aware. “Sure, I’ve heard you through the walls, but it’s never kept me awake. I like it—it helps me sleep.”
“Sure you aren’t just trying to make me feel better?”
“Huh, uh. Now, how about me? Did I keep you up?”
I laugh. “In a manner of speaking.” I can’t help but to lower my gaze downward. She must sense where I’m going with this.
“You’re hard,” she says, just the slightest deviousness in her smile. “Can we do it again? I’m not as sore anymore—I promise.”
The way she’s looking at me, all filled with need, I’m made to feel like I’m the only man in the world, the only man that can please her. And I can’t wait another second.
I pull the sheet back, then gently nudge her onto her back. She’s absolutely gorgeous, both innocent and worldly at the same time, even in the morning. She spreads her legs for me, and I position myself above her, taking hold of my cock and guiding it into her, finding her wet and ready. She’s still tight as I push past her entrance, and I keep an eye on her to be sure I’m not hurting her, that she’s as prepared for this as she claims.
I want to do so many things to Natalie, want to explore every inch of her beautiful, smooth body, but my need for her is so urgent that I can only focus on the way she feels as I push into her, overwhelmed with relief and the need that follows it.
“You feel so fucking good,” I manage to say, needing to tell, wanting her to realize how amazing it feels to be inside of her, to be above her, to be able to touch her naked skin, to smell her clean, feminine scent and to plant my lips on any part of her without her telling me no.
“You too…” she whimpers out, wrapping slender arms around my neck as I amp up my thrusts in seeing that she can take me.
I stare into her, feeling like I’m looking into her soul, connecting on a level of closeness I’ve not felt in so very long. Every part of this feels right, like there’s no other place I should be at this moment than rooted deep inside this beautiful woman.
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She wears her pleasure well, each cry of delight and bite to her lower lip letting me know if what I’m doing is making her feel as good as it is me. I want to go on doing this all day, never get out of bed, never have to release my body from hers, but she’s so damn beautiful and so perfectly tight that I’m not going to be able to last for much longer without blowing.
I’m doing my damndest to hold out for her, to be sure she orgasms before I do, and I’m just about to admit defeat when her eyelashes flutter and her body tightens. She nearly loses her breath as she tries to catch it, and sure she’s on the precipice, I slam hard into her until I can’t take it any longer and let myself go, coming so hard that my body shudders. She trembles as I shoot my semen into her, my groans so loud they nearly drown out Natalie’s cries of relief.
I’m still flying high when a word conjures from somewhere deep in my chest and I say, “Marjorie.”
It takes only a split second to realize my mistake, and in that time Natalie’s grip on me is already loosening. And, if it’s possible, I can feel her pulling mentally away from me to.
I’ve just fucked everything up.
I’ve done one of the worst things a man can do.
I can’t even bring myself to apologize as I pull out of her and watch her eyes grow darker and more distant.
I lie on my side, holding my hand just above her stomach, wanting to touch her but not feeling myself worthy now.
Her eyes are focused on the ceiling when she says, “You still love her.”
She’s not wrong. I do still love Marjorie. I’m not sure how I can make clear to her how that will never change while at the same time attempting to convince her that I’m falling in love with her too. And it’s not just any kind of love, it’s the kind I can imagine feeling for Natalie forever, the kind that is just as deep as what I feel for Marjorie.
But how can I ever explain to her that she’d never be second best?
“Even if you’re divorced,” she continues, “I think you still do… you still love her.”
“What?” I’m momentarily confused, taken aback. “You think Marjorie and I are… divorced?” I take another moment, for a split-second having to remind myself that isn’t what is true.
A look of horror crosses her face, and she pushes her body into a sitting position, quickly scooting to the head of the bed and covering herself with the sheet. “I didn’t know, Jack! I would have never—”
“What? Never what?” More confusion.
“If I’d known you were still married! Oh my god! I’d never help you cheat on her. How could you?”
I close my eyes and sigh.
She doesn’t know.
How the hell doesn’t she know?
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Natalie,” I tell her, opening my eyes, hating to have to say the words but knowing I must. “Marjorie is dead.”
Chapter Fifteen
NATALIE
“What? No… Jack, that’s not funny.”
“It’s not meant to be,” he tells me, his face falling. “It’s been over a year since she passed.”
A year?
“But…” I’m so confused, unable to process what he’s telling me.
He lays his hand on my shoulder, then traces his fingers upward until they land against my cheek and he gently caresses me. “You didn’t know?”
“Of course I didn’t know.” I shake my head, shaking his hand away from me in the process. I keep the sheet held up to me and try to piece things together in my head, but it’s made difficult as emotion overwhelms me. All I can do is picture Marjorie and how beautiful and kind she’d been at that last party.
How had it happened?
What had caused her life to end?
And why in the hell didn’t I know about it?
I clutch my hand over my mouth in an attempt to stifle the tears that ride a torrent of sadness. My body shudders as I drop my hand and take in gulps of air, unable to stop the ugly crying from continuing. Jack sits next to me and wraps me up in his arms, kissing the top of my head, whispering things to me that I don’t really hear.
I’m still in shock, unable to fully accept the news, shame weaving through my mind. I’d been able to justify my attraction to Jack because I believed he and Marjorie had gotten divorced, and I’d been under the impression that she was the one who’d left him. It was still kind of weird, still felt like a betrayal in a way even though it wasn’t.
But now I had a sick feeling that what I’d done with Jack was somehow disgracing her memory. And the fact that he’d called her name out meant he was still in love with her, meant that he probably always would be and that I’d only be a replacement for the love of his life.
“I’m so sorry,” he tells me, kissing my forehead. “I don’t know why I said her name. That wasn’t… it isn’t fair to you.”
“I’m not angry at you,” I manage, wiping pools of moisture from my eyes and getting hold of myself. “I just… I can’t believe she’s gone. I can’t believe I had no idea.”
“We kept it very private, Natalie,” Jack tells me in a low, comforting voice. “She didn’t want a lot of people to know that she was sick.”
“Sick?” I turn to him, my face surely slackened with the disgust I feel for myself on so many levels. “What was she sick with? She looked perfectly fine at that party at my parents’ house.”
“That was three years ago,” he reminds me. “We had close to another full year after that before she started having some issues and slowing down and a few more months before she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.”
Cancer?
I open my mouth to argue, not wanting to believe she’d had to go through such a horrendous disease, but my voice falters.
“She… we fought hard. It was already advanced when it was caught, and—god damn—I’m a doctor, so how the hell hadn’t I seen it sooner? We tried everything, followed all the medical protocols along with holistic and experimental stuff. I’d have kept on going, but…” His chin dips, and Jack nearly buries half of his face in his hand.
I place my hand on his shoulder, seeing that he’s the one who needs comfort now. I can only imagine the pain they’d both endured, the pain Jack must still endure, the guilt of being a surgeon and unable to save his wife.
“She said it was enough,” he tells me in a whisper.
How had I not known?
A year ago, I’d have been on summer break and back in Seattle. Why hadn’t I asked about Jack and Marjorie then? They were always so nice to me, and yet I’d been so wrapped up in my own life, I couldn’t even be bothered to ask how they were doing. Or maybe I’d asked in passing and my parents had just lied about it. It wouldn’t be so different than the times they’d lied to me as a child when they decided I needed shielding from some awful truth.
And if that was the case, then fuck them.
“It was very peaceful,” Jack continues as my hand remains on his shoulder. “She was in palliative care at the hospital, being kept comfortable. She was seeing things the rest of us couldn’t, saw her aunt who’d died a year previous and a dog she’d had as a kid. She believed she was going somewhere better when all I wanted was for her to stay here, sick or not. The day she died, I was still looking up treatments, had been in contact with some doctors in Germany, another one in Argentina. I think about that, about the time I’d wasted chasing treatments that weren’t really going to help when I could have been at her side.”
“So you weren’t… you weren’t with her when she passed?”
Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head. “Because of the time differences, I’d been on the phone with that clinic in Germany. Her sister was with her. She’s the one who broke it to me. I… I didn’t want to believe it was true even though I knew—I’d felt it.”
I still don’t want to believe it’s true, so I can only begin to understand what Jack must have endured.
“I didn’t know that she had a sister,” I say, wondering how many other things I’d m
anaged not to know about Marjorie.
A small smile spreads on his lips. “She hadn’t known either, until about six months before she died.”
“And how is that possible?”
“Marjorie was adopted,” Jack says.
“Really?”
He shrugs. “Yeah. It wasn’t something many people were aware of. She loved her adoptive family, and she never had that urge to find her birth mother. But when she got sick, we both decided we needed to know her familial medical history.” He lets out a breath and shakes his head.
I grip his arm.
“It took a court order to open up the adoption records, and when we did, we discovered her birth grandmother, two aunts and mother had all died from ovarian cancer. She had an older sister, Katherine, who’d had a preventative hysterectomy when she was twenty-seven. She was very open with us, said she’d never known her mother had given a child up for adoption. All she could remember was her mom gaining some weight and going away for a few months. She swore that if she’d realized, she would have done everything in her power to find Marjorie. Even with those assurances, I was still pissed off at that entire family. Someone who knew should have said something. I didn’t care why her mother didn’t want to tell anyone, just that she hadn’t. I blew up more than once about it around Marjorie, and she’d just tell me it wasn’t anyone’s fault. She wasn’t angry. She wanted to live, yes, but she was also at peace about dying. There was just one thing…” He stills and presses his lips tightly together.
I slide my fingers down his arm, now clasping his bicep in my hands. “What was it?” I ask after a few moments of quiet.
He exhales loudly. “She wanted us to have a child together. She’d been pregnant when she got sick, but her body…” He shakes his head. “She miscarried.”
“God, I’m so sorry, Jack.”
“Katherine has two kids. They have a resemblance to Marjorie, and she’d gotten to meet them both, spend a lot of time with them. Marjorie and her sister made up for a lot of lost time in the months they found each other, so it was fitting that Katherine was there with her—there was always someone with her. It was mostly me, but we were all doing shifts, her parents, cousins, close friends. Katherine told me she’d been holding her hand, been telling her how much she was loved, how grateful she was to know her, and then she was gone.”
The Light Before Us Page 17
