Chapter 11
Matt
Well, her family is incredible. That’s for sure. Her mom is a hoot, and Gina’s the total opposite of Cadence, which makes them fun to watch. Even Paul has his moments, chiming in at the right times.
It’s a damn shame they think I’m some guy named Brian.
“So, Brian, what do you do?” Sally asks as she cuts into her lasagna.
As she chews, I run my own fork through my piece of lasagna and say, “I’m a package handler for NatEx. Been doing that for seven years now.”
“Oh, how interesting,” she replies, smiling at me. “And what about your family?”
“My parents and my siblings live a few hours away.” I sip my water. “And my grandfather is in a local nursing home. He’s ill, actually.”
On my left, Cadence freezes, a piece of roll halfway to her mouth. Is she surprised that I’m sticking with what I told her? Or is she realizing now that I was completely truthful with her when we were at dinner? And maybe she doesn’t like what she’s hearing. Before it causes concern, she unfreezes, pops her bread into her mouth, and continues eating.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her mom spears some of her salad on her fork. “Is he getting treatment?”
“He is.” I nod once. “But there isn’t much left to do but keep him comfortable.”
Gina speaks up, keeping her gaze on her plate. “Do you get to see him often?” Then she looks at me.
“I try to go every chance I get, which is most evenings after work.” I dig my fork into my lasagna again. “Sometimes he’s lucid and knows who I am, but sometimes he’s very confused.” Then I take a bite.
“It’s nice that you go see him,” Paul says, taking another roll from the basket.
“What about your brother? Your sister?” Cadence asks loudly, shooting daggers at her mother with her eyes. “And your parents?” Under her breath, she mutters, “Something less depressing for you.”
I smile and touch her thigh, keeping the gesture between the two of us. She gives me the fastest side glance ever, but it was enough that I noticed. And I also notice that she doesn’t make me move, so I keep my hand there for a moment.
“My brother’s in college, but he’ll be graduating at the end of the semester. And my sister is a sophomore in high school.”
“We’d love to meet your family,” Sally tells me, dipping her roll in the red sauce on her plate.
Cadence drops her fork to her plate. “Mom!” she says, a stern tone to her voice.
“What?” Sally’s all innocence. “Can’t a mother want to meet the family of her daughter’s boyfriend?”
Cadence tosses her roll onto the table. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she insists, her arms flying into the air.
“I’m not?” I ask, stifling a laugh.
She sucks in a deep breath and then storms away from the table, heading back into the kitchen. Gina covers her mouth so her laugh doesn’t escape, and Paul keeps eating to pretend like nothing’s going on.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, carefully getting out of the chair and setting my napkin onto the table. Once I’m in the kitchen, I find Cadence at the sink, bracing herself against it with both hands. “You okay?”
Her ponytail shakes down her back with the movement of her head. “This was a mistake. I should have told them that you had to work or something.”
When I reach her, I put my arms next to hers, my thumbs able to touch her pinkies. Then I gently rest my chin on her shoulder. “I don’t mind them asking all the questions.”
She spins around to face me, which forces me backward, but I steady us with my hands on her hips. She leans back against the sink, her hands behind her to hold herself in place.
“Maybe you don’t mind,” she says, her gaze on my chest, “but I do.”
“But if it doesn’t bother me,” I start, “then—”
“It’s not about you,” she’s quick to point out. “I’m saying I don’t like it for myself.” Then she folds her arms across her chest.
“As much as I want to,” I say slowly, gently tugging at her hips, “I can’t read your mind.” I give her a small but encouraging grin.
She throws her arms into the air. “It’s going through the motions! Bringing back shitty memories!” Tears start to pool in her eyes. “And making me wish—” But she doesn’t finish that thought. She drops her arms to her sides instead.
So I pull my hands away from her hips. “Making you wish what?”
“Nothing,” she spits out, wiping at one eye. “Just… This is too much for me.”
When she peeks over my shoulder, I follow her gaze. Her mother and her sister are in the doorway to the kitchen, watching our interaction. Which really does seem to be too much for Cadence, because she exits through the other doorway that leads to the front room. I stare after her as the front door opens and slams shut.
“She hasn’t told you everything, has she?” her mother guesses.
I shake my head, in a trance but able to answer.
“She will,” Gina tells me. Then her hand lands on my shoulder. “She’ll learn to trust you, and then she’ll open up. Just give her time. She’s worth it.”
I nod. “Thanks. For that and for dinner.” To Sally, I say, “Your home is lovely. I’ll see you next weekend.”
They give me sympathetic smiles with tight lips before I follow Cadence out the door.
She’s leaning against my car, her back to me. Her sleek, sexy back. I know how it looks naked, and I love how it looks now, but I don’t love that she’s upset. Or that I was part of something that upset her. So I approach her cautiously and touch her shoulder when I reach her.
She startles a little, so I add my other hand to her other shoulder, smoothing them down her arms. When she wraps her arms around her middle, I bring my arms down there and hold her to me, setting my chin near her ear.
“What can I do?” I ask her in a calm, gentle voice.
Her response nearly brings me to my knees.
Through a small sniffle, she says, “Take me to bed.”
∞∞∞
Cadence
He leads me to exactly where I want to be. His bed. On my back. Naked and ready for him. Screw one night. Or two. Because tonight was a reminder—though a painful one—that I’ve missed that feeling of sharing my life with someone. I don’t miss sharing my life with my ex-husband, but I do miss that fun part at the beginning of relationships. When new couples get to know each other.
And that’s kind of what we’re doing. Getting to know each other. Except what we’re doing is a sham. Is any of this the truth? I lied to my family and dragged him along with me. And we still have another week of this chaos. Can I enjoy at least it in the meantime?
But I created this mess. I made my bed. But it can't be that bad that I want to lie in his instead.
Now that he’s naked too, he crawls over me, kissing down my neck, across my chest, and over my collarbone. When his bare erection bobs against my stomach, I remember that I haven’t yet shown him my package-handling skills. So I set out to do just that.
I push him over so he’s now on his back. His strong, thick cock stands up straight, begging for my lips. When I crawl down to it, though, he sits up, propped up on his elbows.
“You don’t really have to do this,” he says in the dimly lit room. “The package-handling thing was just a—”
“I want to,” I tell him, pushing him back down to the bed. “I need to right now. Okay?”
A small smirk he tries to tame curves his lips. “By all means, then. Whatever you need.” Then he rests his head against the pillow.
Straddling him, I grip his dick and pump up and down. This is the first time I’ve touched it, and I have to admit that it’s glorious. If I were to commit to one dick forever, this would definitely be in the running. But that’s neither here nor there in this moment. In this moment, I’m all about bringing pleasure. That’s all that matters.
I lean down toward his erection, holding it tight, and take him into my mouth. The second my tongue hits his tip, a sharp hiss escapes him. I take that as a good sign and continue to feed him between my lips, sucking him all the way to the back of my throat. Then I hum a little for the vibration and begin an up-and-down motion on his dick.
Hollowing my cheeks out, I pull back until I can swirl my tongue around the tip. He reaches a hand out and palms my head, but we both know who’s really in control here. I keep my steady pace, and his legs start to tremble as he moans out his pleasure. A few moments later, he hooks his hands under my shoulders and drags me up to him.
“I wasn’t done,” I whine, but he’s leaning over the side of the bed, taking a condom out of his bedside table.
“That’s not how I’m finishing tonight,” he tells me as he slides the condom over his dick. “And I’m certainly not finishing first.” Then he hovers over me, but I stop him before he enters.
“Wait.” I hold my hands above my head, hoping he gets the hint.
He does. He holds my wrists down with one of his hands, which sends my arousal into overdrive. Heat pools between my legs as my stomach goes all fluttery. Yes! This is exactly what I want, and I love that I don’t have to ask with him. He somehow knows.
“Slow,” I request on a whisper. “Please.”
That’s not a problem for him, either. He pins my hands down with more pressure and slips inch by incredible inch inside me. At first, he goes only halfway before pulling out. Then he slides back inside a bit more, torturing me with his unhurried rhythm. On the third try, he glides all the way in. And, once our pelvises meet, he pauses, pulsing inside me and staring right at me.
Heat and desire waft from his gaze, but there’s something else there. Something else I can’t quite read. Something I haven’t seen in so long that I’m not sure how to interpret it. For now, I hold on to it. I revel in it, luxuriating in the attention he’s giving me. Feeling like I’m the center of his universe and that’s a-okay. In fact, right now, it’s perfect. More than perfect. And I never want it to end.
Soon, though, he starts moving again. He slips out and flexes back in, finding a slow but steady rhythm that has me chasing an orgasm all too soon. After a minute of intense staring and the same tortuous pace, I’m tumbling right over the edge, unable to look away from him, locked in his gaze. The power of it as me coming a second time in quick succession, and I pulse around him as he joins me in the ecstasy of release, our moans and groans a chorus of pleasure.
As we both catch our breath, we still watch each other. Something is so intimate about having your eyes wide open, watching everything your partner does while in the throes of passion. It erases everything from the past and gives you a clean slate. Something fresh to start from. Because you’ve seen each other’s vulnerabilities. You’ve witnessed their most incredible and passionate moments. And you’ve created a bond you can never erase.
In this moment, it feels like everything has changed.
This time when he leans down and kisses my forehead, I don’t allow myself to worry about what it means for the future. I don’t allow a nose kiss to dredge up painful memories of the past. Instead, I find peace in the moment. I cherish the gesture for what it is: one person giving another a piece of them. There are no strings attached. No promises of later or hopes for more. It’s something to be appreciated.
For now, I can appreciate the kindness he’s showing me in the face of my actions. I’ve been asking him to pretend for my family, and he hasn’t so much as batted an eyelash. Sure, he’s getting laid, but so am I. I desperately needed everything we exchanged tonight, so I still feel like I own him so much.
Maybe that so much right now is the cuddling he seems to want to do. When he comes back from disposing the condom, he slips into bed next to me, wraps the sheet around us, and pulls me close with a hand around my middle. Then he whispers in my ear.
“My turn, okay?” His warm breath tickles the shell of my ear.
I nod, my lips tipped up into a fraction of a grin I can’t manage to help.
And then we both fall asleep, sated and happy.
For now.