Naomi 

 

I placed the bag in the backseat and rushed back into the house. Flying from one room to another, I checked for the fifth time if all the lights were shut off, timers programmed and doors locked. As soon as I was satisfied, I set the alarm, locked and dead-bolted the front door then slipped into the driver’s seat and let out a huge huff.

I’d woken up this morning for the first time in a long time with a smile on my face. I knew why it was there and who’d put it there but I did my best to ignore it.  But I felt I was ready to face Braydon tonight and possibly get answers, even if they weren’t the ones I’d wanted.  The sun was shining, there was a slight chill in the air so what could possibly go wrong?

Everything!

I’d tossed my dirty clothes into the washer, turned it on, and BAM. Water began to spray everywhere until I quickly turned the water valve off. The hose in the back had a slit in it. No big deal! I went to the garage and found some tape that looked like it would hold. Went back in and taped up the hose. Water back on and all was good.

Next I went to the kitchen and made a quick note about the hose so I wouldn’t forget. Just as I put the pen down, I heard the distinct sound of water squirting everywhere. In my hasty run to the laundry room, I knocked over the lit cinnamon-scented candle on the island counter, causing hot wax to come pouring out.

As I felt it more important to stop the waterfall currently spewing in my laundry, I left the candle. Once I had the valve turned off again, I went back to retrieve the overturned candle.

Do you know how long it takes to clean up buckets of water in a small room?

A long fucking time!

Or to get dried wax off a hardwood floor?

A very long fucking time!

So, with my disastrous day, I was running behind.

 

****

 

I was roughly thirty minutes out from the airport and an hour and a half until flight 720 to Dallas was to take off. The music was blaring and I was singing along, bouncing in my seat, doing my best to put the shitty day behind me. Just as I began to hit the high note along with Adele, the truck in front of me quickly slowed down. I didn’t have enough time. I slammed on the breaks and WHACK. 

I braced as my Range Rover smashed into the truck. My heart began pounding erratically and my breaths came in pants as I released the steering wheel with sweaty palms and threw the car in park.

Okay… okay, it can’t be too bad. The airbags didn’t go off.

Calm, Naomi, calm.

I took quick inventory of how I felt. Nothing hurt, no open wounds, no broken bones, nothing except for the raging heartbeat that was hammering in my chest. A tall muscular man appeared from the driver’s side of his truck and I didn’t know if my breath hitched due to my nerves or the beautiful man walking my way.

The glimmering light from the street lamps shone off his blond spiky hair as he rushed to my door. I began to open it just as he got there and put a hand to the top of the door.

“Fuck, are you okay?” he said quickly in a deep voice, swinging the door fully open.

His eyes scanned me over and his movements became jerky. Apparently I wasn’t the only one nervous.

“I’m—” I started.

“Do you need an ambulance? Are you hurt?” He ran a big hand through his mess of spikes, “Fuck, you hit me pretty hard.”

I put a leg to the pavement and he stopped me. “You sure you’re okay? Don’t stand if you don’t feel—”

I cut him off. “I’m okay, promise.” Then I added quickly, “I’m so sorry. I’ve never hit anyone before. My God, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he replied with a small smile that highlighted his hazel eyes.

I finished folding out of my SUV and peered over to his bumper. “Oh my God, did I do a lot of damage. Oh shit, let me get my insurance infor—”

“No,” he butted in. “There’s not much damage at all, just a few dents and scratches. Nothing I can’t have a buddy of mine take care of.”

I started toward the front of my Rover and he followed, saying, “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I—”

“I’ll pay for any repairs that need to be done,” I insisted.

“Really, it’s—”

“Please,” I pleaded, “Mr.…”

“Flounders, Bill Flounders,” his deep voice answered as he stuck out his hand.

I extended mine and shook his. “Naomi McAllister. And please, Mr. Flounders, let me pay for the repairs.”

I thought I saw him cringe a little when he said, “Bill. Please, call me Bill.”  

I nodded and began to assess the harm to my car. Mine had a larger dent in the bumper than his and a few scratches. The cars passing by began to slow and take in the accident making me flush with embarrassment.

Bill must have noticed. “It’s okay, really,” he said softly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go through our insurance companies?” I asked as I ran a shaky hand through my wavy brown hair.

He watched the movement, his lips twitched, and he assured, “No, it’s all good, Naomi. We don’t need our premiums going up all over a little fender bender.”

As his eyes roamed down my body and back up again, I felt a sense of unease course through me. It wasn’t because of the way he was looking at me but what he most likely was taking in.

I was wearing tight faded blue jeans with small rips strategically placed throughout the legs. My deep brown spiked-heeled boots, a fitted white turtleneck and my Ann Taylor chocolate blazer with the pink ribbon belt completed the outfit. In addition, I’d opted for the diamond hoop earrings that Braydon had given me last Christmas with silver bangles lining my wrists.

Bill Flounders saw money written all over me.

He was probably going to rake me over the coals with repair bills. 

Regardless, I turned on my heels and moved toward the passenger side of my SUV saying, “Let me give you my number.”

I reached into my purse sitting on the seat and snagged one of the business cards that Braydon insisted I get. He’d told me that because he was a businessman his wife should be a businesswoman.

Whatever.

Anyhow, I turned and found Bill had been waiting behind me. “Oh, here you are,” I said, surprised, then continuing, “I’d like to take a few pictures and get your information as well.”

“Sure,” he replied and moved out of the way.

Once I’d taken pictures of both vehicles and gotten Bill’s number and e-mail address, we parted ways. He demanded that I pull out first. I suspected because he didn’t trust my driving. So I did. But as soon as I came to the first off-ramp, I exited the freeway.

The first shopping plaza I spotted, I pulled in, found an empty spot away from any viewers, and let a few tears fall. Then I stared at the time on the dashboard. If I flew down the freeway, ran through the airport, didn’t get stopped and patted down, I could probably just make my flight. 

But that wasn’t going to happen. It felt as if it were a sign. The moment I woke and pushed the thoughts away on why I had a smile on my face, then moved them to surprising Braydon or catching him with another woman, everything had gone wrong.

Yes, it was definitely a sign.

I was still slightly shaken by the minor accident and was feeling crushed. I’d go home, alone, and watch the Food network, like usual.  But first I’d stop at a Chinese restaurant and pick up a double order of fried dumplings with extra dipping sauce—’cause really, what are dumplings without tons of dipping sauce— and an egg roll. No, two egg rolls. I deserved it.

 

****

 

Chase

 

My cell vibrated against the back of my thigh. I let go of her hip and leaned slightly to the left, causing my cock to push deep. She let out a whimpering moan as I snagged my phone from my back pocket.

“Oh yeah, baby,” the brunette, who I’d met in the bar, turned back to me and groaned.

I watched her ass bouncing as she slammed down onto my cock while I put the phone to my ear, “Talk to me.”

“Bill fuckin’ Flounders, Chase. Really? You couldn’t have given me a cooler one? Like Rod Maxwell or something? You asshole,” Lane complained.

“That sounds like a fucking porn name,” I told him with a smile.

The brunette gripped the headrests of the driver and passenger seats and began to fuck the shit out of me.

“And Bill Flounders sounds like a sad lonely fucking science teacher that loves his damn job,” Lane grumbled.

“How did it go?” I asked, keeping my voice even and ignoring Lane’s bitching.

“It… umm, went,” he replied cautiously.

My left hand gripped the brunette’s hip and held her still.

“What the hell?” she whined and turned her head. “You’re really going to talk on the phone right now?”

“Shit, are you with a girl?” Lane’s shocked voice asked in my right ear.

“Honey, you’ve been riding my cock every which way now for thirty minutes, came three times, and I could’ve probably talked to my mom through the whole fucking thing without missing a beat,” I retorted.

“Oh fuck.” Lane chuckled in my ear.

“You know,” she announced heatedly, “Just because you’re fucking hot doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole.”

“It’s the truth,” I confessed, unaffected by her words.

And it was.

I’d only been in the dive bar for forty minutes before she approached me.  We’d had one drink; no, let me rephrase that, I had one drink, she had two shots and two mixed drinks. She was beyond tipsy, which told me she’d had a few before I even walked in. I didn’t normally fuck drunk girls, but when she’d turned to me and asked if I wanted to go fuck in her car, who was I to turn her down?

“Man, just call me back.” Lane laughed.

“No,” I snapped. “I’m done here.”

“Oh,” the brunette said, agitated. “Fuck you too.”

She lifted off my cock, causing it to slip out. With her ass in my face, I pulled the condom from my deflating dick shifting to my right as she went left.

She fell into the seat next to me, shot me a dirty look and grated, “Get the fuck out.”

“My pleasure.”

With Lane chuckling in my ear, I removed myself from the backseat of her Sonata and held my cell between my ear and shoulder as I pulled up my pants.

Walking back to my truck while closing the zipper and button, I heard her yell, “Asshole!”

I firmly asked Lane, “Now, tell me what the fuck went on?”

“How many women shout asshole to you after you’ve fucked them?” he returned.

“More than I can count,” I told him and finished, “Tell me everything.”

Lane explained how everything had gone down. I wasn’t too happy that it hadn’t gone to plan. He was supposed to bump her, not the other way around. But he complained that she’d seemed to be in a rush, driving pretty fast, and he couldn’t get behind her.

When I began to curse and shout like a fucking animal, he quickly communicated with me that he hadn’t thought she was going that fast and that it would do the damage it had. When he asked why I was getting so worked up about it, I went silent.

He broke that silence as he said in a low voice, “She’s fucking hot and that sweetness she has just adds to it.” I again didn’t say anything and let that hang in the air. He knew then exactly what was going on in my head, because he drawled out, “Right…”

It took the entire ride home and then some before I could end my call with Lane. Then I jumped into a scalding hot shower to scrub away any traces of Sonata chick.

I really needed to tone down fucking empty pussy.

 

****

 

I lay in bed with only black boxer briefs on and the cell to my ear, listening to the third ring.

“My life sucks, you know that?” Naomi whispered her greeting.

My heart clenched from the somber tone in her voice. And knowing I had something to do with the way she was probably feeling punched me in the gut.

The only thing I could get out was, “Bad day?”

She told me about her washing machine, the candle she’d knocked over, and cleaning up both messes. My chest felt really tight and a hard twist in my stomach formed. Here I thought she was just dealing with the accident I’d caused. I asked her a few questions about what happened and if the guy was a douche.

Because if Lane was, I’d kick his ass.

She told me he was nice and that she’d just have to see if he’d meant what he said and wouldn’t try to rob her in repairs. After that, we both went silent. I didn’t know what to say but she was quiet for another reason.

“Ohhh, that shit burns,” she said in a hoarse voice. 

“What?” I questioned.

“Tequila,” she informed me.

“No, you drinking?”

“Yep,” she admitted. “And wine.”

I sighed and ran a hand along my forehead. “How much have you had?”

“Umm…” There was a slight slur to her voice. “Like two gulps of tequila and two glasses of wine.”

“No, you need to stop drinking,” I told her firmly.

“Nuh hunh….”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you do. You should—”

She cut me off. “Do you call all women sweetheart?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Why?” I probed.

“It sounds nice,” she whispered.

I made a mental note to stop using it so freely, since I didn’t want any woman getting the wrong idea.

“I’ll remember that,” I said in a low rough voice.

“That too,” she chimed in quickly.

“What?”

“That voice,” she answered shyly. “That voice does—” She stopped.

“Does what?” I asked in the same low rough tone.

“Ughh,” she groaned. And that groan hit me right in the balls as my cock twitched. “Nothing,” she finished.

“Tell me,” I demanded.

“Have you found anything on Braydon yet?” she asked in a strong tone, changing the subject.

“Getting there; we’ll talk about it soon,” I lied, and asked since she hadn’t told me, “Where were you going when you got in the accident?” She got quiet and I called, “No?”

“The airport,” she replied quietly.

“I thought I suggested that wasn’t a good idea?”

“Ohhh!” she drawled sarcastically and her tone became feisty. “If I recall correctly you told me I wasn’t going. There was no suggestion, Chase. Or—”

I interrupted her rant. “Yeah, I said I didn’t need you screwing with the fucking investigation.”

“I really don’t understand why my going to see Braydon in Texas would screw anything up, but it doesn’t matter now. Today was a sign, a sign that it’s over,” she sighed. 

“What’s over? Going to Texas, because I didn’t think—”

“Oh, you didn’t think,” she piped in. “What if I’m still going, and leaving tomorrow night.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Nope!” she said loudly. “I’ll book it right now.”

“And why in the fuck are you going to go anyway, No? Tell me,” I ordered, feeling my blood pumping rapidly through my veins. 

“Because!” she barked back.

“Because is not an answer, Naomi!” I shouted.

“Don’t yell at me!” she bellowed into the phone.

“Why, No?” I said tightly.

“I do not owe you an answer—”

I cut her off. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not there right now.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really,” I told her. “That ass of yours would be wearing my handprint right about now.”

I heard a gasp and she didn’t say anything.

 

****

 

Naomi

 

I stopped my fast pacing as my legs became wobbly and grabbed the counter’s edge to steady myself. And it had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol I’d consumed. It was the pleasing tones of Chase’s voice that had been toying with my insides. And the thought of his hand on my ass caused a prickling sensation to run over my heated skin and dizziness to fill my head.

“Fuck,” Chase grumbled.

I couldn’t answer as my breathing picked up and I felt my core tighten. Seconds ticked by before he spoke again.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, No?” he whispered roughly.

Warmth ran up my neck, causing a burn to scald my cheeks. “Yes,” I told him the truth.

“Fuckin’ hell, woman, you’re killing me,” he growled.

“Me too,” I whispered as his tone caused a surge of tingles to travel from my throbbing nipples to my pussy.

“You trust me, No?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Good,” he said, and went on in deep, low voice, “You getting turned on, baby?”

I let out a slight grumble, annoyed that he had such an effect on me. But I thought for one minute to let that go and enjoy the sensations he caused me to feel.

Helpless to stop the emotion, I answered, “I am.”

I heard another distinctive growl before his gruff voice whispered, “After I smack that ass my hand will caress it as my lips taste the sweet skin on the back of your neck.”

Shutting out the fear of what was about to happen, I whispered back, “I’d like that.”

“Oh, baby, I have no doubt that you’d like everything I’d do to you,” he promised.

On a soft needy moan, I let out, “Yeah.”

“Put me on speaker, No.”

“Why?” I questioned.

“Just do it,” he ordered.

I did as he asked and laid the phone on the counter in front of me. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“Where are you?” Chase enquired.

“In the kitchen, standing at the counter,” I told him.

“Perfect,” he muttered, and went on in a voice that I had not heard from him before, that made my thighs clench together so tight they hurt. “Run your left hand from your belly and up.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Cup your left breast, baby.”

A small whimper escaped when I felt the palm of my hand brush across my sensitive nipple.

“That’s it, let me hear how it feels.” He groaned.

The thought of what he was doing on the other end of the line got the best of me and I nervously asked, “You touching yourself?”

“Fuck yeah,” he admitted brazenly.

I let the moment take over even though I wasn’t exactly sure what to say or how to say it. So I tested quietly, “Tell me what you’re doing?”

He let out a moan before he said, “Stroking my hard cock as I think about grinding it on your ass as I cup your breast and brush my thumb across your stiff nipple.” His voice dipped low when he asked, “You playing with your nipple now, No?”

I was so focused on what he was saying that I hadn’t even realized that I was and breathed, “Yes.”

“Clothes off, panties on,” he commanded roughly.

Fear settled in my stomach as I thought about what was going on.

“It’s okay, No, yeah?” he said softly, as if he knew the battle currently underway in my head.

Shutting out the voice of reason that what I was doing was wrong, I finally did what I wanted to do and divested myself of the black thermal nightgown, letting it fall to the floor.

“Okay,” I said as I stood there in nothing but my thick gray socks with little white hearts on them and red lace panties. Panties I’d specifically picked out with matching bra for Braydon, thinking once he saw me, he’d rip my clothes off and fuck me. But I knew now that was never going to happen.

“Take your right hand and run it slowly down your side then around to the front. Think of my hand grazing along your smooth skin,” Chase demanded seductively and his voice dropped really low. “Once you get to your panties, baby, dip those fingers in.”

A sizzling warmth coursed through my body and I let my eyes flutter closed, envisioning everything he said. I ran my hand slowly down the side of my body and hooked my fingers into the edge of my panties.

His smooth, deep voice whispered, “You wet for me, baby?”

I slipped my fingers deeper into the lace material and through the wetness.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“That’s my girl.”

His words strangled the breath in my throat as I gasped.

No one had ever called me their girl. Not even Braydon in the two months we’d been married. It’d always been my belief that was one of those profound endearments that a man used. And right now hearing Chase’s deep, rugged voice whisper that’s my girl, had my pussy spasming so hard it felt as if he was cupping it.

“You with me, baby?” he called after a few beats of dead air.

“Yes,” I whimpered as my finger began to trace circles around my clit. “I’m with you.”

“Fuck,” Chase breathed and then went on in a quiet voice that I almost didn’t hear. “You have no idea.”

That admission caused another shudder that started in my pussy and racked through my body like nails on my back. I shivered once the sensation subsided.

“Rub that clit good and pinch that nipple hard for me, sweetheart,” he demanded on a groan and I heard rustling through the earpiece.

Before I obeyed his command, I asked, “Where are you?”

“My bed,” he said, confirming the vision I had in my head.

With the tempo of my finger picking up, I squeezed my hard nipple between my index finger and thumb, and let out a guttural moan.

“Fuck yeah, baby, let me hear it,” he encouraged me, groaning.

And his groan slithered down my chest and into my core, causing it to tingle. The warmth in my toes began its slow rise.

“Oh God,” I moaned, knowing I was getting close.

“That cunt dripping for me now?” he asked, but didn’t let me answer as he went on, “’Cause my cock is ready to fucking explode for you.”

“God, yes,” I whimpered as the heat began to burn up my thighs as my release neared.

“Come for me, baby,” Chase gruffly instructed.

And at his words the scorching fire that was building reached my core and caused my body to tense. I clutched the counter’s edge as my legs began to shudder and my pussy convulsed rapidly.

“Oh God, Chase,” I breathed.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned.

And then it hit me.

I’d just had phone sex. I’d just had phone sex while standing in my kitchen. A kitchen where I cooked meals in for Braydon. Braydon, my husband. With a guy I’d never met. A guy who had me so intrigued that my heart raced whenever he texted or called. And… I was married.

Oh my God!

I pulled myself together and the silence now between us was killing me. I broke it.

“Chase, I—”

“Please don’t, No,” he started. “Just let it be, yeah?”

My emotions were ricocheting around my insides like a bouncy ball. I knew what we’d done was wrong but it’d also felt right. Maybe he was right; we should just let it be. Worst-case scenario, I could ignore him. So I agreed, “Yeah.”