Stop interrogating me, Jeremy. I can't stand it. No more questions.
That whore and her fake glitter nails. That cheap, heady perfume she wore...
I watch a drop of sweat roll down the shell of Jeremy's ear and drip to the floor. His natural musk overwhelms my senses and I felt dizzy. Confused.
Remembering my husband's torrid affair while talking to Jeremy is somehow sending my body mixed signals. Heat pools in my belly. A twinge in my sex. I shouldn't feel like this. It's wrong on so many different levels.
Damn it body, you traitor.
That whore's lacy panties with the little bow ties on each side...Her velvet laughter...
I watch Jeremy's muscular pecs rise and fall again. Those damn pecs! I'd give anything to touch them. To run my curious fingers along his hard body...
Jeremy's collar is soaked with a thin patch of sweat. I catch a glimpse of his lips and for a second and I wonder how they would feel like on my skin.
My knees are about to give out. I just know it.
That whore sucking my husband dry. Her throaty laughter and flaming red hair. Her lacy black bra with those little sequins on them...
My stomach lurches. A heavy weight presses down on my chest and I gasp for air.
Jeremy's face dips in and out of my field of view. “Rachel?”
That slut. She was wearing the kinkiest red stilettos. Must've been six inches at least. She wasn't sorry for what she did. She loved it. Loved the fact that my husband betrayed me to be with her.
I don't usually let stress get to me but now...I'm not so sure. It's as if all the bullshit from the last few months: the cheating, the endless fights, the moving and the new job...It all comes crashing down on me. And I just-I can't take it anymore.
The flood gates open and hot tears burn my cheeks.
Why the hell do I have to put up with a disgusting pig of a husband? What did I do to deserve this?
My whole body crumples like broken puppet.
I am so done. With all of this bullshit. It's just not fair. This isn't the life I want. I didn't sign up for this.
I want to crawl into a hole and go into hibernation mode. Skip work. Quit even. Gain back the twenty pounds I lost this year. Start smoking. Gambling. Buy a fucking motorcycle.
Ah, mid-life crisis at its finest.
Through my blurred vision I see Jeremy, his intense emerald eyes trained on me. “I'm losing it,” I cry. “I'm losing my mind, Jeremy.” I throw myself into his big arms and dig my face into his neck.
He's going to comfort me. Make me feel safe again.
Because he's my best friend.
Because he's my rock.
My stronghold.
Jeremy doesn't ask any questions. He just strokes my hair and says, “Shhh” over and over. A soothing sound. A familiar gesture. Just what I need.
His fingers rake across my scalp and thread through my hair, sending shockwaves down my spine.
I shake a little. This is supposed to be relaxing, not arousing, Rachel. But I can't help it. My nipples harden and poke out through my thin shirt.
“Jeremy, that feels...good,” I say.
“Mmhm,” he nods.
After a minute, I calm down. Sort of. My mind stops racing but my body is acting out. My throbbing pussy betrays me as it soaks through my thong. I clench my legs together and groan. I can feel mascara stinging my eyes and my nose hurts. Jeremy must think I'm crazy. A mess.
This is all wrong. So wrong.
I take a deep breath and inhale Jeremy's scent. It's so familiar. A smell I've grown accustomed to during the past fifteen years. A smell that, at this moment, is setting my body on fire.
Calm down Rachel. You're feeling vulnerable right now. You're not thinking clearly. Take a deep breath.
“You wanna tell me what's really going on now?” Jeremy asks, his eyes soft, his mouth, firm.
“I-” My lips feel like they're on fire. Enough lies. No more. He deserves the truth.
“Rach. C'mon, you can tell me anything. What's the matter?” Jeremy probes. He tucks a few stray hairs from my face. “I'm worried about you.”
I rest my head against his shoulder and let out a huge sigh. “I...We left New York because I caught Will cheating. We decided to move here for a fresh start.”
There. I spilled the beans. Happy now, Jer? Now it's in the open and he can get pissy and judgey all he wants. Even tell me, “I told you so.” I don't care anymore. I really don't. He was going to find out sooner or later.
For half a second, Jeremy doesn't move. Then suddenly his hands are balled into a fist and that fist slams down on the drywall beside me. A plume of dust fills the air.
“That motherfucker,” he spits.
“Jer...It's all in the past now. We're getting better.”
Jeremy points to my black eye. “You call that 'better'? That asshole should go to jail for this.”
I self-consciously cover my bruised eye with some hair. “Let's just get back to the leak,” I say, trying to change the subject. “Will's coming home in fifteen minutes. Can you fix it by then? I'm sorry I fell apart on you but I'm better now. Really.” I try to reach for his hand but he flinches.
“Fuck, Rachel. How can you love a man who treats you like dirt? What do you see in him?”
I bite my lip. “I'm a firm believer in second chances.”
“He's had his chance. He threw it away for some cheap slut. You deserve someone better. Someone who will treat you right.”
“Thanks Jeremy but-”
Before I can say more, Jeremy presses me against the wall and silences me with his lips. His mouth is silky and warm, his taste, something I'd dreamt of for years. I'm caught off guard and I try to resist but he pins me down with his hard body. The one I just spent half an hour trying not to ogle. He probes deeper, using his tongue to part the seam of my lips. I let out a small groan as his hand finds my hips and flirts with the hem of my blouse. An unbearable ache threatens to shatter me.
Goddammit it! No one's ever kissed me like this before.
Why did this kiss have to come from my best friend?
My best friend.
Shit.
Goosebumps prickle along my forearms.
We shouldn't be kissing. We're friends.
And not in my new house. The house I just bought with my husband.
This is all going horribly wrong.
I pull away. “Jeremy! No.” I almost felt like giving him a half-hearted slap on the wrist just to send him a warning but decide against it. “I-We can't.”
Jeremy looks away, blushing. “Sorry Rach. I don't know what's come over me today. I- I guess...You're gonna need to find another plumber. I can't do this right now...I can't just stand by and watch you destroy your life like this. William Masterson is a monster and he'll only drag you down to hell with him.” Jeremy starts gathering his tools. “Remember last Christmas? How he gave you those bruises on your wrist? And the other time, when he was so drunk he knocked you down the stairs? I had to take you to the hospital for fuck's sake. Wake up, Rachel. He's a fucking monster.”
“He has his good side too, Jer. You just don't see it,” I protest.
“Oh yeah, like what?” Jeremy challenges me.
“He...He'll make me breakfast sometimes on Sunday mornings. Or take me on unexpected weekend road trips. Or surprise me with expensive gifts.”
“Anyone can do those things. They're nothing compared to the hurt he's caused you. No gift is big enough to make up for the fact that he abuses you. If you want a road trip, I'll take you on a goddamn road trip. Anywhere you want. And I'll make you the best damn breakfast you've ever tasted. I'll do anything if you leave that asshole. Come with me Rach. Leave him, leave your shit and come stay with me. I'll protect you while you file for divorce.”
“Jeremy. I-I c-can't.” My lips tremble once more and I felt nauseous. Bile rises in the back of my throat. “You don't understand. I can't just give up after one year of marriage. Marriage takes a lot of
hard work and compromise. I need to give him more time to prove himself. We'll get better.”
Jeremy's nostrils flare as he starts packing up his tools. “Yes, it takes compromise, but not like this. This is fucking self-destruction.” With that, he makes his way to the front door. On his way out he adds, “I hope you change your mind Rach, before it's too late.”
Two
About ten minutes after Jeremy leaves, I hear keys jangling at the front door. A minute later, Will finds me in the kitchen. My eyes are still bloodshot and red from crying and my clothes are covered in plaster dust. I'm crumpled on the floor against a wall, still reeling from Jeremy's words.
And that kiss.
Will points to the damaged pipes and wet tiles. “What the fuck did you do?”
“The pipes were really old and one of them burst earlier,” I say. I suck in a sharp breath, bracing myself.
“Why didn't you get a plumber in to fix it?” Will demands.
“I did...But he...He had to go.”
“Who did you call?”
Before I can make up a lie, Will cries, “Oh for fuck's sake. You called Jeremy Hale didn't you?”
“What's wrong with calling Jeremy?” I reply defiantly. “He's a pro and he does the job for free.”
Will grabs my wrists. Hard. “What's wrong?” Will asks, his face going red. “What's wrong is Jeremy's been wanting to fuck you since day one. That's what's wrong. Don't you see the way he looks at you? There are a million plumbers in town. But you just had to call him. Why him?” He turns away in disgust, folding his arms and breathing hard.
“Why do you always act so jealous? Nothing could ever happen between us,” I cry.
Except for that kiss. But that was a mistake.
William's face grows beet red. “Oh yeah? So why did Jeremy leave without finishing the job?”
“He...”
“Exactly. You were probably talking trash about me again, weren't you? Tattletale bitch. You probably called him as soon as I left this morning to complain about the black eye I gave you,” Will snaps. “Did he kiss your boo-boo better?”
“I didn't!” I yell. “I only called him when the pipes broke.”
“Sure whatever you say,” Will says. “Go find another goddamn plumber and order some takeout. I'm hungry and I gotta take a shit.”
I open my mouth but shut it again. “Okay,” I eke out before Will disappears upstairs.
Filthy, disgusting pig.
No matter how many times I tell myself to stand up for my beliefs and demand Will's respect, somehow I always become powerless during our daily confrontations. Something about Will makes me feel worthless and alone. Fighting a battle I'm destined to lose again and again. Am I really so pathetic and unlovable? So battered that I can't even summon the courage to love myself?
While Will is in the bathroom, I arrange for another plumber to come tomorrow morning. Then I order some pizza.
Ten minutes later, Will joins me on the sofa in a visibly better mood. “Listen Rach, I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. Tough meeting today. You understand, right?”
I shoot him a weak smile. “Yeah, it's fine. I get it.”
I don't really 'get it' but it's pointless trying to understand why Will behaves the way he does. Sometimes I think he's bipolar. Or perhaps he just has severe anger management problems. Whatever it is, I know it'll destroy us eventually.
He's a ticking time bomb. Anything can make him explode at any time.
He doesn't even realize the consequences of his actions. And if or when he does, he always tries to win me back with empty apologies and meaningless gifts. This is the man I decided to call my husband. The man I decided to honor and cherish for all of my days.
After we eat the pizza in silence, Will disappears to make a phone call and I'm left thinking about the kiss I shared with Jeremy. It electrified me down to the bone. So sizzling hot my panties got wet.
I want more. Or least, my body wants more. So much more.
I don't know what I really want anymore.
I didn't think anything could ever happen between us...But now I'm not so sure.
It's been less than two hours since Jeremy left and I'm still craving every goddamn inch of him. Preferably against me or inside me. The kiss was that good.
Jeez, Rachel. What the hell are you doing? You're turning into your husband. First comes the cheating thoughts, next the cheating actions. Just stop.
I feel my cheeks flame as the thought of Jeremy's naked body enters my mind.
God I haven't been touched by a man in so long.
William is always either hot or cold with me. And right now he's as cold as Antarctica and just as harsh and unforgiving.We haven't had sex in three months.
A few minutes later, Will comes back into the living room and tells me he's going out for drinks with his buddies.
“It's eleven,” I say. “Isn't that a bit late for drinks? It's a Wednesday night.”
“You know how the guys are.” Will leans in and gives me a peck on the cheeks. “I'll be back in an hour. I promise.”
Of course when he says 'an hour' that usually meant four or five. Sometimes he won't even come home until the next evening.
“Ok then. Drive safe,” I murmur.
It isn't until after Will is out the door that I notice his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. I pick it up and I'm about to run after him when the phone begins ringing.
Caller ID reads “Mom”.
I answer.
Before I can say “Hi Mrs. Masterson,” a female voice says, “Babe, my pussy is dripping so wet for you. If you're not here in the next ten minutes, I'm getting started without you.”
I don't know how to react so I stand motionless, just hovering over the lit-up phone. Should I hang up and confront Will? Tell the other woman to piss off? Throw his phone out the window? What's the appropriate response for this type of situation?
I decide to hang up.
As if on cue, Will pushes through the door and calls out, “Forgot my phone!” He's surprised to see me standing right behind the door. I hold out the cellphone and he grabs it. “Thanks baby. Don't wait up,” he says before darting back outside again.
Well no wonder he's in such a rush. And in a better mood.
As I watch Will drive away in his Lambo, I make a pact with myself.
William Masterson is going to pay.
Enough is enough. I won't be his bitch anymore.
Three
First things first. Obviously I'm way too tired to do anything tonight. I need to sleep on this. No matter how angry I feel right now and how betrayed, I'm not going to act on this information until the time is right. By then he won't know what hit him and it'll be too late for him to duck.
When I wake up the next morning, my vision is blurry. A massive migraine cripples me and I groan. Every muscle in my body is knotted and achy. I wander over to the bathroom and fill up a glass of water. My eyes are puffy and red; my skin, pale. I look like a ghost.
I gulp down the entire glass of water, then brace myself against the sink.
Of course my scumbag of a husband didn't come home last night. He was too busy boning his latest conquest. That was expected. But somehow, it still hurts knowing he's lied to me again and gotten away with it.
Well he's not going to get away with it much longer.
After I finish my morning routine, I wander downstairs to fix myself a nice breakfast. Can't start plotting my revenge on an empty stomach. I scramble some eggs and assemble a smoked salmon cream cheese bagel. Mmm, brain food.
I'm all nerves and my stomach is doing somersaults but I put the jitteriness to good use and flip on my laptop.
I crack my knuckles. Research time.
Now, let's see. What does William care about most in this world?
His job. Being a quarterback means everything to him. And he loves his Lambo.
I've already decided that I'm going to file assault charges as well as for divorce...But before that ha
ppens, I need to ruin him first.
The legal way of course.
William has and always will be a cocky asshole who's never thought much about me. He's stomped all over my self-esteem long enough. I need to fight back. Show him I'm not a total pushover. He's going to pay the price for underestimating the wrath of a woman scorned.
I know he takes anabolic steroids. He's even bragged about it to me several times on drunken occasions. And I also know that his NFL player contract specifically prohibits him from taking performance enhancing drugs. After a quick internet search, I learn that failing a drug test can lead to a suspension. Sometimes for an entire season or more.
Oops, Will, say bye bye to your money and reputation.
Proving that he's doping will be easy. I just have to contact his team physician, Michael Tanner, who happens to be a friend of my dad's. I'll ask him to do a random drug test which I know Will will fail.
The only reason I've held onto Will's disgusting secret for the past six months is because I thought we were giving our marriage another chance. But he obviously misinterpreted the whole “Let's move to Jersey and fix our marriage” plan. So why should I protect him any longer? He's a cheater both at home and on the field. And everyone needs to know that.
Next, his car. The 2016 Lamborghini Aventador SV. A.k.a. his $500,000 pussy magnet. Gold-diggers regularly swarm around his car, taking sexy selfies with it and posing beside William. I'm used to that. It comes with the high profile. What I'm not used to is William still thinking he can get away with screwing another woman behind my back.
I'm not a wide-eyed bambi anymore, Will. I've grown up.
His Lambo is bright red, sexy, insanely loud and I have to admit, it hurts me that I have to use it to get revenge on its adulterous prick of an owner.
Of course I don't know anything about cars. Or how to legally tamper with one. But I know someone who does: my little sister Charlotte. She works at a luxury car dealership downtown and she's studying automotive design. Once she hears about what William's done, she'll help me without a doubt. Two heads are better than one, right?
I reach for my phone and text Charlotte: Can we meet up for dinner tonight? I really need your help.
Plumber Page 2
