“Who were you on the phone to?” I ask Hope when she hangs up.

She’s still lost somewhere in her head. She’s lying on the bed, staring at her phone and she’s looking like she’s lost her best friend. It’s a look I’m seeing more and more and I don’t like it.

“I called my Aunt Ida Sue. I wanted to talk to my cousin, White. He wasn’t there though.”

“He’s probably playing house with Kayla, like I want to with you,” I joke and lie down on the bed beside her.

“What did you say?” she asks, stiffening in my arms.

“I said he’s probably playing house with Kayla, like I want to with you,” I tell her pulling on her shirt.

“How did you know Kayla’s name?”

“What? I don’t know you must have told me. Honey, hold your arms up and help me here.”

“But I don’t think I told you, Aden. I don’t remember telling you at all.”

“Hope, you did. How else would I know?”

“Because you remember?” she says her voice panicking. “Is the past coming back to you?”

I stop for a minute and consider her words. Did I remember that. I think back and try to recall anything of my past and nothing comes. I frown.

“Nothing… the first real memory I have is waking up in the hospital with a hell of a headache.”

“But—”

“Honey, you told me all about your cousins, remember? I’m sure you mentioned Kayla’s name. What’s wrong with you, why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset,” she denies immediately, but I know she is. You can tell it in everything she does, especially her posture.

“Babe. Spill. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” she mumbles and my response is to grunt—indicating my disbelief without bothering to call her on the lie. “Fine. If you’re remembering you should tell me. I deserve to know,” she mutters, refusing to look at me, but her fingers are tightened into the cover on the bed so violently that the skin on her knuckles are white.

“I’m not remembering. I would tell you if I was. You would be the first one I share that with—and not just because Jack is probably the only other human being I talk with.”

“Well—”

“And our son is many things, but—”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you about Jack. I tried before, but you didn’t listen. Aden he’s not—”

“Not very attentive when I talk,” I finish, shaking my head at her. She’s doing it again, trying to make an escape plan, trying to disengage our lives—creating an out.

It suddenly dawns on me why she’s so upset. I should have seen it before. I should have been prepared for it. Of course she’s worried I’m going to remember. She already doesn’t trust what we are with each other. She has to be scared that I will go back to being the same asshole who hurt her, treated her and Jack as if they were nothing more than an obligation, a bother. I’ve been trying to show her I can be a man she can depend on. A man she can be proud of, and all this time she’s been terrified I will change back into the man I was before.

“Aden, please, we really should talk—”

“You need to quit worrying, honey.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” she murmurs, biting on the corner of her lip and worrying it with her teeth.

“Then we’re going to have to find other activities to fill your mind.”

She can read the intent on my face. I know this when she stops biting on her lip and it spreads into a half-smile—an exasperated half-smile

“You have a one track mind. I don’t think other activities will help us clear anything up.”

That’s when I throw a leg over her body, essentially straddling her. Though I put all my weight on my legs and not her body, she’s trapped, unable to get away and beneath me. I really like her beneath me.

“I think it will help us clear up quite a bit,” I inform her, pushing her shirt slowly up her stomach, my eyes glued to hers.

“Like what,” she says, her voice softening and her body relaxing underneath me.

“Like showing you who is in control here.”

“Because you’re on top?” she asks.

“Because I’m your man,” I correct her. “Raise your arms up, Hope,” I order, pulling her shirt up further, revealing her breasts which are trapped in a bra of black lace.

Beautiful.

“I think there are other activities besides sex, Aden,” she mutters, but she raises her hands.

I pull the shirt over her head and then the rest of the way off, before throwing it against the floor.

“Oh, I know honey. That’s why I’m going to do one now,” I tell her. I can feel her gaze on me, but I’m looking at the small metal clasp on her bra, between her breasts. I release that and the bra breaks apart, giving me an unencumbered view of her tits.

Jesus.

How do they just keep looking better and better?

“You are?” she asks.

“Definitely,” I answer. I bring my hand to each of her breasts, planting one hand over each of them and for a minute, I can only enjoy the view. Her creamy, pale white skin against my hand which is rough, dark from working in the sun, and riddled with more than a few scars. Completely opposite and yet nothing ever looked so good together. I squeeze her breasts and then release. Repeating the action because the feel of the pillowed flesh is better than anything I’ve ever experienced. Her tits should be declared national wonders.

“What are you going to do?” she whispers and that brings my gaze back to her.

“Don’t move,” I order her, my tone leaves no room for argument. I stand up and she tilts her head to look at me.

“Aden…”

I unbutton my pants, pushing them and my briefs down my legs, before stepping out of them. I’m half afraid she’ll try and run away from me; she doesn’t, although her eyes do drop down to stare at my hard cock.

I wrap my hand around it, and stroke it slowly, with a firm grip.

“We’re going to play a game, Hope.”

“Oh God,” she shudders as she moans, her voice whisper soft. “What are we playing?”

“How hard,” I answer her, slowly getting back on the bed, straddling her body again.

“How hard?” she repeats, watching as my throbbing cock gets closer and closer to her. Does she think I’m going to make her swallow him down? It’s a thought, and one I might act on—later.

I have other plans for now.

I slide my cock against her body, leaving a wet, clear trail of pre-cum in my wake. The cool of her body feels delicious against my hot shaft. I pull her breasts apart, making the perfect valley for my cock and then I roughly push them back together and hold them with bruising force.

“We’re going to play how hard can Aden fuck Hope’s tits,” I growl, thrusting.

“Fuck,” she whispers, and I like that dirty word on her lips. I’ll have to try to get her to say it more often.

“And maybe after that, we’ll play how deep can Hope swallow Aden’s cock,” I tell her.

“Yes…” she moans, but I don’t respond after that. I’m too lost in the pleasure.