Just Pretend
Page 78
“I’m very grateful for the opportunity.”
She nods at me demurely, and I can’t help it. I want to rip her clothes off, claim her as my own like I was never able to do before.
I get out of my chair and walk over to her. Before either of us know what we’re doing, we’re hugging.
“Wade,” she says, burying her head in my chest. It’s been far too long since it was last there. “I need to apologize. I had no idea your company had impacted so many lives. I really want to know all about it.”
“No, I need to apologize,” I tell her. “And there are a lot of things I want to tell you. But first…”
I bend down and kiss her, and her tongue meets mine eagerly.
I forgot how good it felt to wrap my tongue around hers, to explore her sweet mouth. I grab a hold of her ass and pull her closer to me, pressing her body up against mine, where my package is now bulging underneath my pants.
“Oh, my God, Wade,” she says, nearly breathless. “This feels amazing.”
“It sure does.”
I lift up her skirt and slip my finger under her panties. She’s dripping wet with desire for me. I knew she had to have been wanting me just as much as I’ve been wanting her. But feeling it for myself turns me on even more.
I move her towards my office door and lock it. Then I move her in the other direction, towards a couch that I have in my office. There are so many things I want to do with her. But first, I want to make her feel better than she’s ever felt in her life— even better than she’s felt with me in the past.
I sit her down on the couch and kneel in front of her. I slide her panties over to the side and spread her legs wide. I can see her perfect pussy on display for me. As I begin touching her clit, she gasps, her wetness dripping out all over my fingers.
I spread her pussy wide while I look at and touch every fold and crease. I remember it so well but it seems even more beautiful now than it used to.
I rub it while she moans, and then softly, under her breath, she says, “Wade, I’m going to come.”
It’s that same tone she used to use with me back in high school.
I rub more vigorously while telling her, “I’ve missed your little pussy so much. Come for me, Emily.”
Then she says, “Oh, my God, Wade, this feels so good,” and her juices are gushing out all over my hand.
I kiss her while she finishes coming and she says, “I’ve been thinking about this ever since the last time we were together.”
“Me too,” I tell her. “All the time.”
I place her finger on her pussy.
“Show me what you do while you think of me,” I instruct her.
Obediently, she pushes a finger inside herself and rubs her clit at the same time. I love to watch her pussy twinge and pulse as she pleasures herself.
“Tell me what you’ve been wanting me to do all this time,” I say.
“I’ve been wanting you to fuck me,” she says. “I want your big cock in my pussy.”
“I never got to fuck you,” I tell her, as I watch her play with herself.
I’m almost afraid to ask the next question, but I do anyway.
“Has anyone else gotten to fuck you?”
“No.”
She shakes her head, moaning slightly, close to coming again, and my cock rises even more to attention.
“You’re still a virgin?” I ask, as she slows down and looks at me earnestly.
“Yes.”
I don’t want her to ask me the same question, so I quickly change the subject.
“Keep playing with yourself,” I tell her. “Until you come.”
She nods and rubs herself faster, harder. I see only pure desire and release in her eyes. Then she looks deep into my own and says, “I’m going to come again, Wade.”
“Come again,” I tell her, kissing her while she plays with herself and gives into the feeling I know is washing over her. “Come like you do when you think of me alone.”
I look back down to see her juices everywhere as she comes. I take her finger out of her mouth and suck on it, one of my hands returning to her curvy, full ass, and the other on her thigh to push her legs open wider.
I could take her right here, like this, but I don’t. She deserves something more special for her first time. But I do start pushing at her clit with my tongue, then her up and down until she’s moaning and squirming.
“Oh, my God, Wade,” she says, pushing her hips forward so that I can move my tongue deep inside her pussy.
I suck on her clit while she grinds against my face, grabbing my hair and moving my head back and forth.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she says repeatedly, as I lightly gnaw on her clit and then suck on it harder again.
I can taste her sweet juices that I remember so well. She wraps her legs around my head and collapses on the couch.
“I feel so amazing,” she says, in a voice low and weak as if she’s barely able to get the words out.
I smile down at her.
“Good.”
And then there’s a knock at the door.
“I’m busy,” I say, annoyed, as Emily jumps and then hurries to straighten herself up.
But the knocking persists.
I am going to fire whichever one of my subordinates is bothering me right now. They know I’m often busy during the day and don’t like to be disturbed when my door is closed.
She stands up and whispers, “It’s all right.”
She’s returned to her former professional looking state, a major feat considering that I’d just left her wet and whimpering on my couch.
But it’s not all right, and I’m about to let whoever is on the other side of the door know that.
When I open it, however, I look just as shocked as Emily must be.
It’s my daughter, looking up at me in glee.
“Daddy? I came to surprise you at work!”
“Charity. Hi, Darling!”
My happiness at seeing my daughter is mixed with fear at how Emily will react. There are obviously a lot of things I haven’t gotten to tell her yet. Didn’t know how to tell her.
My next thought is to wonder where Rebecca— Charity’s mom— is. I’m sure Emily will misinterpret the situation when she sees her here. And who could blame her?
“Emily, I…” I start to say, but she pushes past me and out the door.
“I won’t hold you up,” she says, as she heads down the hallway.
Charity’s mom is out there. But if Emily notices, she doesn’t let on.
“I can see you have important things to tend to,” Emily says.
And with that, she’s out of my life again, perhaps for good this time.
Chapter 10 – Emily
I’m at home, fuming. I have a couple hours before my class starts but for the first time in my life, I don’t even feel like going. I call my sister Jessica, one of the only people to whom I can admit what a fool I’ve been.
I hadn’t told her any of it, though, because I was embarrassed to have lost my job, embarrassed to be at the mercy of the guy I swore to her I was done with— even though she’d always tried to convince me otherwise— and certainly embarrassed of the fact that I just slutted it up at my new job with my douchebag ex. I wouldn’t be telling her if my heart wasn’t completely broken all over again. At times like this, I really need my sister, and I just hope she doesn’t judge me.
I quickly fill her in on the whole story, ignoring her attempts to butt in with a million questions. She always liked Wade and I’m sure she’s happy to hear that he’s back in my life. But just wait until she hears the part about his kid.
“He has a kid?” she explodes, when I finally get to that part of the story. “Like, the kid id really his?”
Leave it to Jessica to give Wade the benefit of the doubt.
“I mean, I guess,” I tell her. “She called him ‘daddy.’”
“Wow,” Jessica says, speechless for once— which is hard for her to be.
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br /> “I know,” I groan. “I can’t believe I trusted Wade all over again, just to find out he’s hiding something. And we had just friggin’ made out in his office.”
I had skipped over the sordid details, because part of me can’t believe I let Wade do all of that in a work environment. Not just a work environment, but my first day on a new job, even if it is Wade’s company. Part of me was completely thrilled though, at the forbidden nature and the fact that we could get caught. Until we almost did. By his daughter of all people.
“I can’t believe he did all the things to me that he used to do, without first telling me that he had a fucking kid,” I say again, to Jessica. “I guess I should have known what kind of a snake in the grass he is. It’s my fault for ever letting him back into my life.”
…And into my panties, I think to myself, without saying it out loud.
“Well, just hold on Emily,” Jessica says. “You’re always so quick to dole out judgment. But there could be circumstances here that you don’t know about.”
“Like what?” I ask her. “Like a random little girl off the street is calling him ‘Daddy’ and he’s not correcting her but somehow he’s not really her father? Like maybe they started up that show ‘Punked’ again and it’s all a big prank he’s playing on me? Or perhaps I’m on one of those radio shows where they test how much you really love someone—”
“Oooooh,” Jessica says. “You said the ‘L’ word. You said love. You love Wade. I knew it. I always knew it. You’re still not over him. That’s why you’ve never even had a serious boyfriend since him. That’s why you’ve never even had sex.”
“Jessica!”
I’m so mad at her. This really isn’t the time or place to remind me that I’m an old, loveless hag because I’m still hung up on this jerk.
“I’m sorry, Em,” she says, but she’s giggling. “I just… this thing about his daughter sucks, but I’m hoping there’s some kind of reasonable explanation. Because I really do think this is what you need. Him back in your life. Because you love him. Quite clearly. Or else this wouldn’t bother you so much.”
“Oh, Jessica,” I sigh, trying not to sound as close to crying as I feel. “I don’t know why you’re so happy about this. This is really, really bad for me.”
“Geez, Em, don’t cry,” she says, softly. “I’m sorry. I know this is a bummer. But maybe somehow it will all work out.”
“How could it work out?” I ask her. “That little girl looked at least four years old. That would mean…”
“Yeah,” she says, finally sounding as glum as I’ve been feeling. “The timing there is pretty close.”
Wade and I had broken up five years ago.
“It would explain a lot, too,” I tell her. “Maybe that’s why he became such an asshole. He had found someone else, but didn’t want to tell me. So he was being a big jerk so that I’d have no choice but to break up with him. And it worked. I broke up with him.”
“Oh, Em.”
She’s silent a moment.
“I mean, they do say to look for signs like this to know if you’re being cheated on. And hindsight is always twenty/ twenty. But I just can’t imagine Wade doing this.”
“You never thought he’d be such a dick, either,” I remind her. “You kept saying there had to be some explanation.”
“Well, maybe there was,” she says, sounding hopeful again.
At least that makes one of us, who is hopeful, I think.
“And that’s another thing,” she says, suddenly. “He was in training. And then he went off to war. Where and how could he have found the time to cheat on you?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Maybe he met someone just before he left, and he was kind of carrying on two long distance relationships at once. Or maybe it was just an emotional thing at first and then as soon as he finally got me to ditch him, he made it physical. The end of his first deployment did happen just a little bit after I broke up with him.”
“Yeah, and I told you to just hold off and talk to him like he wanted,” she reminds me. “Then maybe you would have some of these questions answered.”
“Jessica,” I groan.
“I know. Now is not the time for I told you so’s.”
“Exactly.”
But she’s right. Wade had been desperate to talk to me when he got home and begged me not to break up with him until we could communicate face to face. He had said there was more to the story that he needed to tell me.
He was so on again, off again though that I couldn’t trust anything he said. I was tired of being hurt by him. And I knew that if I saw him in person again— just like I had in his office today— that I would become weak and melt under his touch. I wouldn’t have the resolve to stand up for myself.
So, I left him, and never looked back. Until now, which was a mistake.
But Jessica does have a point. What would have happened had Wade and I talked, like he had wanted? Why did he want to talk to me so badly if my current theory— that he was trying to break up with me— is the correct one?
Nothing is adding up or making sense. Usually talking to Jessica calms me down, but right now it’s only made me more confused.
“There was a woman in the hallway,” I tell her. “It had to have been the girl’s mom. Was he… cheating on her with me?”
The thought makes me sick.
“I really don’t think Wade would do that,” Jessica says.
“You also didn’t think he’d cheat on me back then, but there’s a little girl whose existence might prove otherwise.”
“Might prove,” Jessica says. “Operative word being might.”
I sigh. I have no idea how to get to the bottom of any of this. The only way would be to give Wade a third chance, and I really don’t think I have that in me. For all I know, he doesn’t even want it. Maybe he was just using me, but as soon as Baby Momma found out, he’s done with me all over again.
Suddenly, my door bell rings.
Looking out the peephole, I see Wade’s face peering back at me.
“Emily,” he’s shouting, while pounding on the door. “Please let me in. Please, let’s talk.”
How does he know where I live? I wonder.
Oh yeah, the paperwork I filled out at work had my home address on it.
Damn Wade. Damn his sexy eyes peering back at me.
I don’t want to let him in. And yet, I do.
“You’ll never guess who’s here,” I nearly whisper into the phone.
“Oh yes I will,” Jessica almost sing-songs back to me. “Wade Covington. Love of your life. Here to save the day and make things right. So that you two can finally have the happily ever after you deserve.”
“Very funny,” I tell her, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. “I’m going to have to call you back.”
“Of course, I’ll let you go,” she says. “You have important business to attend to. But I’ll be waiting on pins and needles to hear the rest of how this all- American love story turns out.”
“Goodbye, Jessica,” I tell her.
I should thank her for her support. But I can barely breathe. I forget to hang up the phone.
The only thing I seem to be able to do, by some sort of force outside myself, is open the damn door, and let Wade Covington back into my life just when I thought he was really gone for good.
Chapter 11 – Wade
Emily looks as surprised to see me as I am that she opened the door for me.
"Thank you," I tell her, pulling her close before she can even shut the door behind me. "I need to talk to you. I need you to hear me out."
She looks at me skeptically. But she let me in, and she's not immediately kicking me out. All good signs.
I shut the door and take her by the hand. I lead her over to her couch and luckily she follows me.
"I don't know where to start," I admit, smoothing her hair away from her eyes.
She's so fucking beautiful.
"Start at the beginning," she says.
"Or, at the end of us, last time. I want to know why you were such a jerk."
"Fair enough," I tell her. "But this is hard to talk about."
She squeezes my hand, giving me the strength to continue. I'm so glad she's giving me the chance to explain myself, finally.
"When I was over there, the rescue helicopter we were in went down," I tell her. "It was so scary. Everyone thought we were going to die. I was injured a bit, but nothing major. Some in our unit died. Others were severely injured. One of my friends, Harlow, was significantly injured."
"When did this happen?" she asks, her eyes wide with shock. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I… I don't know," I admit. "Even though I've had plenty of time to think about it. I don't have a good answer. I just went into shock. I didn't want to deal with it, process it."
She nods.
"I can understand that," she says.
"I was treated for my physical injuries but I didn't feel like I was getting any better. I had constant fear that I was going to die. I fell into a deep fucking depression. I thought life wasn't worth living. I began to question why you even wanted to be with me."
"Wow."
She strokes my hand, and looks genuinely concerned.
"PTSD?" she asks.
I nod my head.
"It makes perfect sense now, but back then, I didn't even know what it was," I tell her. "I'd heard of it— we'd even had some training on it— but it all seemed very theoretical. I didn't think it could actually happen to me."
"Perfectly understandable," she says.
Her eyes are so full of compassion that I’m wondering why I never told her until now. I suppose it made me feel too weak and vulnerable. But now I see that she could have helped me heal.
“Something in my fucked up mind told me that I wasn’t good enough for you. That I’d only drag you down. That I should be dead and that you should go on without me. I guess I just acted on those thoughts, even though they don’t make logical sense.”
“Nothing about PTSD is logical,” she says, reassuringly. “I’m no expert, but I’ve read about it for some of my classes. It’s an issue in social work. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I know,” I tell her. “The only thing I’m ashamed of is not telling you sooner. I tried to get you to talk to me when I came back but I understand why you wouldn’t. And I was still in a deep, dark place then, so it was probably for the best that we weren’t together at that time.”