My phone rings for what feels like the hundredth time. I don’t answer it though. I’m actually almost to my destination and the past few hours, being alone, thinking has been cathartic. Thomas is probably pissed that I haven’t answered his calls. I’m not avoiding him to be a bitch, I just needed a little time to think, to absorb everything that has happened the past few weeks.

My entire life has changed, and while I don’t regret many of the changes, I do regret a few things. Coming to terms with being party to an affair, hasn’t been something I could just easily accept, forgive, and forget. Thomas has had time to come to grips with his relationship with Danielle, and he’s okay with it all. That doesn’t mean that I am as well. Regardless of what he says, what she says, at the end of the day they’re very much still married.

As I walked around the city, the sun slowly setting and the chill becoming a bit too much for me, I thought about what life would be like without Thomas. A sudden sense of doom and despair filled me and that feeling in the pit of my stomach, it intensified, and it was too much for me to bear, to even think about life without him. How does that happen? How did I fall so completely for this man in such a short period of time? I feel a little crazy, and maybe I am.

Hurrying home, I’m not surprised to see the front porch light on, or the lights spilling out of the windows from inside. He’s probably worried, but I needed the time alone to think. I know, without a doubt, that I’m meant for him, and he’s meant for me.

Whatever insecurities I was feeling before, they’re gone. I have no doubts that the guilt from our actions will never quite go away, and there will be times where it will creep back inside, but that guilt feels nothing like the panic I felt at the thought of not having him.

Opening the front door, I quietly close it behind me, and go on a search for Thomas. He’s easy to find, his hips leaning against the kitchen island, a glass of red wine in his hand and his angry glare pointed directly at me.

Stopping in my tracks, I don’t walk any closer, his body language dictates that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Also, the air is thick with tension and I freeze, afraid to make any sudden movements.

“You didn’t answer your phone, the first, or the tenth time I called,” he growls, his voice dark and dangerous.

Lifting my chin slightly. “I was thinking, just walking around,” I admit.

He shakes his head once. “I’m so goddamn pissed off at you, Ines. I didn’t know where you were, and I had no way to contact your friend. I was left here holding my dick, no idea if you were dead or alive,” he growls.

I wince at his words, my body trembling because he’s right. I could have at least answered his call, told him when I’d be home. Instead, I completely ignored him. “I’m sorry, Thomas,” I whisper. I mean it too, it was stupid, inconsiderate, and extremely immature.

Thomas sets his wine glass down with a loud clink and then he closes the distance between us. I hold my breath with each step he takes. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in the back of my hair, tugging my neck back. Looking into his eyes, I can see the hurt there, the worry, and the pain. Tears fill my own eyes. I caused this, and it was completely avoidable. I feel like a complete bitch.

“I was worried,” he rasps.

I nod, as much as I can, which isn’t much because his grip is tight in my hair. “I needed to think. This entire situation is something new to me. I feel extremely guilty,” I confess.

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against my own. “Don’t feel guilty, sweetheart. It’s me, it’s all on me. You’re innocent.”

I let out a snort. “I’m far from innocent, Thomas.”

Lifting his head from mine, his blue eyes sparkle as he grins. “You are innocent, Ines,” he states. His hand cups my cheek, and his thumb grazes just beneath my eye. I lean into the action, loving the way he touches me, and the way his gentle touch makes me feel safe—loved. “You’re innocent, and I’m the one who fucked everything up, I’m the bad one here. Not you, never you.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” I admit.

He lets out his breath in a puff of air, and closes his eyes. “I was just worried, angel eyes,” he says pressing his forehead to mine.

“What did your attorney say?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

Thomas lifts his head but doesn’t move away from me, his grip still held tightly in my hair. His other hand wraps around my hip and he pulls me slightly against him, holding me, caging me with his arms.

“You hungry? It’s a little late to go out, but I can order us something?”

Rolling my eyes, I look up at him scrunching my nose. “I’m not worried about food, Thomas,” I growl.

He grunts, keeping me close even as I press my hands against his chest and try to push away from him. “She’s wanting half of everything. She won’t get it, but it could make the process longer than I want it to be,” he murmurs.

“What do you mean, half of everything?” I ask.

I knit my brows in confusion, she doesn’t live here, she doesn’t pay for any of Thomas’ bills. They live and have lived completely separate lives that I’m aware of. What could she possibly be owed?

Thomas leans down slightly and runs his nose alongside mine, inhaling my scent. I copy his move, doing the same and enjoying the way his scent fills my nostrils. My entire body relaxes immediately, and I snuggle closer to his chest.

“She wants half of this house, half of my retirement, and of course you already know she emptied the joint accounts we had. There wasn’t much in there, so I’m not really worried about that. Honest to fuck, I’d give her the house or the money from the sale, if she really wanted it, but she’s just asking for it to be spiteful. I won’t allow her to touch my retirement though. That money is for us, for our future. I’ve put it away, and invested it for far too long, just to give her half.”

“For us?”

His fingers grip my hair even tighter, as does his fingertip on my hip. “Yeah, sweetheart, for us. For our future,” he says. “You’re my woman, I’ll always take care of you.”

My breath hitches, and my eyes water from his words—us, future, they’re amazing. I want it all, every single thing, every piece of what could be. I want him to always take care of me, just as he’s promised. From now on.

“What do we do now?” I breathe.

He lowers his head, his lips brushing mine before he speaks. “After you suck my cock, I’m going to fuck your tits. Then you’re going to ride me, angel eyes, until you come all over me,” he growls.

I gulp, my thighs shaking from his words, my pussy clenching “About the divorce.”

“We go to New York in a few weeks, we meet with mediators, and I end this shit then,” he grunts.

I whimper again, but only because his hand gently tugs my hair, his other hand applying pressure to my hip, and I slowly sink to my knees. Without instruction I quickly take my shirt off, and then unhook and pull my bra down my arms, exposing my breasts to him. He hasn’t made a move to remove his pants, so I reach up and wrap my fingers around his brown belt.

Looking up, I keep my eyes connected to his blue gaze as I slowly unbutton, then unzip his pants. When I have his jeans down around his ankles, I gently slide his boxer briefs down to meet them. Thomas reaches behind him, and tugs his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. My eyes flit to his hard cock, and then back up to his face.

“Suck me, angel eyes,” he demands gently.

Opening my mouth, I swirl the head of his cock with my tongue, tasting him and moaning when his pre-cum slides along my taste buds. He groans, his hand still fisted in my hair, and I love it there. He could keep his hand there forever, and I would never complain. I wrap my hand around the base of his dick as I open my mouth wide and take him as far as I can.

I bob, sucking, and swirling my tongue on his cock, enjoying not only the way he tastes, but also the sounds he’s making, and the fact that I’m causing them to come from him. My pussy is so wet that I’m sure it’s seeping through my panties and onto my jeans, but I’m too mesmerized by Thomas’ eyes to attempt to check. He’s arrested me with his gaze, and I have no desire to be free.

Thomas grunts, his hand tugging my neck back and then he fucks my mouth, slowly and with precision as he keeps his gaze on mine. I let my hand fall from around his length and I relax not only my jaw but my throat as well, loving the way he takes me.

He grunts and then pulls out, taking a step back, his hand falling from my hair and his breath panting. I watch as he toes out of his shoes and socks, stepping out of his pants, and leaving himself completely naked.

Lifting his chin toward the sofa, he turns and walks away from me. I watch his ass, wondering how his body still looks as fantastic as it does at his age. Then I stand and hurry after him. “Take your pants off, sweetheart, I want to see all of you,” he demands.

I shimmy out of my tight jeans and slip off my shoes before I kneel in front of him. Thomas spreads his thighs, his ass on the edge of the sofa. “I’ve been dreaming about sliding between these gorgeous tits of yours, Ines,” he murmurs, his thumb and finger pinching my chin.

I shiver, I’ve never done anything like this before. It feels naughty, and I bite my lip at the excitement of it all. Sitting back on my knees and feet, I place my hands on either side of my breasts. Thomas places his dick between my boobs and I push them together. His skin is still wet from my saliva and I groan when he shifts his hips and starts to fuck me.

“It feels better than I ever imagined,” he groans. His ass lifts from the seat, his eyes darting between his cock and my gaze. I can’t take my own eyes off of his face, too entranced by the look of pleasure in his features.

Peeking my tongue out, I lick the tip of his cock on an upward thrust and he lets out a moan, which spurs me on to do it again. “Fuck yes, squeeze tighter, Ines. Pinch those nipples, too,” he rasps.

I do as he requests and let out my own gasp of pleasure when I pinch my nipples. I don’t just hold them, I roll the hardened buds between my fingers, my eyelids fluttering closed on my own groan of pleasure. After a few more thrusts, he scoots back on the sofa, his chest heaving with his breaths. I keep my eyes pointed at him and he gives me a smirk, holding out his hand for me.

Slipping my palm in his, I stand, then straddle his thighs. When my center glides along his smooth, hard length I groan. “Fuck, so wet, sweetheart,” he groans.

“I need you, Papi,” I whimper.

I feel him reach between us and then the head of his dick presses against my center. “Are you ready for me?” he asks.

Without saying a word, I slowly sink down his length. He moves his hand and we both let out a long groan when I’m fully seated on top of him—and full of his length. He stretches me like only he can, like only he has, and I place my hands on his shoulders for stability.

“Ride me, angel eyes,” he grunts.

I watch as he places his hands behind his head and I shake my head, my dark hair flying around me. “I need to feel you touch me, everywhere,” I beg, contracting my pussy muscles around his length. He groans, his hands flying from behind his head and wrapping around my waist.

Rolling my hips as his hands glide up my waist, his thumbs brushing the underside of my heavy breasts, I can’t help but let my head fall back and my eyes flutter closed. “Goddamn, you are so beautiful right now, sweetheart. Your pussy full of my cock, your tits pointed directly at me, fuck, show me how much you enjoy my body,” he grunts.

Moaning, I reach between my legs and start to gently touch my clit with one hand, my other hand wraps around his thigh behind me and I enjoy the way he feels inside of me. Nothing else matters in this moment, just the way my body feels as I take my pleasure from his.

Thomas’ hands shift to my breasts and he tugs on my nipples, sending shots of pleasure straight to my core and I begin to ride him harder and faster, my body naturally attempting to chase my orgasm. Lifting my head, I look at him, his blue eyes sparkling, and his jaw clenched. He’s close, I can tell by the expression he wears on his face.

I speed up my movements, grinding against his pelvis on each quick down stroke and then my climax completely takes over and my entire body freezes on top of him. Thomas wraps his hands around my hips and uses my body to jack himself. He buries his cock to the hilt, and on an upward thrust, he lets out a long, strained moan as his dick twitches and I feel his cum fill me.

In the next breath, his hands shift to my back, and he tugs me against his chest. I happily fall forward and nuzzle my face against his neck. My breathing still labored, as I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and hold onto him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says against the side of my head. I squeeze my muscles around his dick as my response and he grunts.

I twist my fork around the Alfredo Fettuccini and hold my palm beneath it as I guide it toward Ines’ waiting mouth. Just a few hours ago I was feeding her my cock instead of food, and she looked even more gorgeous than she does right now. Actually, no matter what I feed her, she’s stunning.

“Are you being dirty?” she asks around her bite of food.

I shake my head, wondering how she already knows my thoughts, and that my mind is apparently always in the gutter around her. “How’d you know?” I ask, lifting a brow as I stab a piece of chicken for her.

“Your eyes sparkle when you’re thinking deliciously nasty thoughts,” she laughs, her deep husky voice filling the room.

“I was thinking about the fact that I fed you my cock not too long ago, and you look just as pretty with my cock in your mouth, as you do with a forkful of food,” I admit with a shrug.

She feigns surprise. “You nasty man,” she whispers with a giggle. I know the truth, the glint in her eye tells me she likes it when I’m dirty.

“Do you have to leave for New York?” she asks a few minutes later. I see the worry in her eyes and I wish that I could chase that away.

I hold out another bite of pasta and give her a sad smile. “It’s only for a few days. I’m flying over with Robert, my attorney, on a Sunday. The mediation is on Monday and my flight to return is Tuesday afternoon. I don’t want to use up all of my sick time on this shit,” I admit.

She chews and gives me a heavy sigh. “I wish I could go with you,” she confesses.

I grunt, wishing she could go with me as well. I would love to show her the city, but she’ll have to wait until Thanksgiving and New Year’s. Though she’ll be missing my class on Monday, she has other classes that she needs to attend, and midterms are coming up.

Once our food is finished, we lay together, naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. Her warm skin is pressed against mine and I find that there’s a level of comfort just having her with me that I’ve never felt before. I comb my fingers through her hair, just enjoying her weight against my chest.

“Oh shit,” she gasps.

She bolts up and then she hurries away, slamming the bathroom door behind her. I sit up, listening to her wretch and my heart starts to race. I don’t know what to do, so I move toward the edge of the bed, placing my elbows on my knees I wait for her. The toilet flushes a few minutes later, the sink runs, and then she slowly makes her way back to me.

Reaching out to her, I guide her to sit on my lap. “I don’t know, I just all of a sudden felt sick,” she says, her body trembling slightly.

“Heard there was a stomach bug going around campus, maybe you got that,” I murmur, rubbing my palm up and down her back. She hums as her body becomes heavy against me.

I shift beneath her, sliding my arm beneath her legs, and then pick her up and arrange her on the bed. Once she’s settled, I wrap her in my arms and hold her against my side, caressing her hip and back until she falls asleep, what seems like only minutes later.

A thought crosses my mind that has my eyes pop open in panic, I dismiss it almost immediately. Then, I think about it again. Pregnant, could she be? I’ve seen her take her birth control pills, every morning, but I know that not everything is one hundred percent inconceivable.

The thought niggles at my brain, but I decide to dismiss it completely, knowing that the stomach bug is certainly making its way through campus, as it does at least twice a year, if not more. I close my eyes, not allowing myself to think about the possibilities of her being sick or the possible outcomes. If I think about it, then I’ll hope for a baby, and she’s too young. I shouldn’t hope for that, not yet, at least.