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Midlife Crisis: another romance for the over 40: (Silver Fox Former Rock Star) by L.B. Dunbar (26)

26

I’m fine is another lie

 

 

[Hank]

 

My thoughts spiral like the curves we follow down the hill. Despite sitting so close to me, she’s slipping away. Tonight was too much, even for me. I don’t know what to think, how to feel, what to do. I’m numb inside. Absolutely cold.

“Where are we?” Her small voice fills the SUV. I drove to Brut’s without thinking. I should take her home, return her to her normal life with her beautiful sons, but I can’t let her go.

“Brut’s place.” My voice sounds defeated, which is how I feel at the moment. Whipped. Beaten. Done. “Can you come in for a bit?”

Brut’s house looks sad under the dim headlights. The house is larger than it appears on the outside. Most days, it’s sadder looking in broad daylight. It’s a solid home but run down by lack of care.

“Stay.” Midge nods. There’s more in this command than waiting for me to open her car door. I need her to stay with me. Helping her out of the truck, I keep my hand wrapped around hers, holding her like she might float away, a giant red balloon drifting upward. I lead her directly up the stairs and into my room. My bigger bed with a wooden headboard fills the space. Windows on either side of the mattress frame one wall. A tall dresser stands against another one.

“I need a shower,” I say, pointing over my shoulder at the open door to my bathroom. Midge sits heavily on the edge of my bed. Her silence disturbs me. I’m bone tired and want nothing more than to lie down next to her, but I’m chilled, shaking inside. I need to relax. I need to explain myself. I just need a minute.

Once I enter the shower, all I allow myself to focus on is the hot water. Baby steps. One step at a time. One day at a time. I’m back where I started six years ago.

Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

Courage to change the things I can.

And the wisdom to know the difference.

I cannot change what Kit kept from me, and I cannot change Lawson’s condition even though I will beat myself up for both things. I might have caused Lawson’s diagnosis from the choices I made. I didn’t demand the truth from her. In either case, I could have been more involved in Lawson’s upbringing. More. I could have done more.

The warm spray hits me in the face, and I keep my eyes shut to the liquid. One hand rests on the pipe above the showerhead and the other presses against the tile wall. Two smaller hands surround my waist. I should be surprised she followed me, but instead, I’m grateful for her touch. A kiss falls between my shoulder blades before her chest rests against my back. I rub her arm and then slip my fingers between hers. We remain silent for too long. I don’t want to lose this moment with her—holding me, comforting me in her gentle quiet. Moisture covers my face, and it’s more than the heated water. I shudder, and she kisses my shoulder blade.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute,” I croak.

“You need to talk,” she tells me softly, but strong in tone.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning is always best.” She kisses me one more time, no other movement than the turn of her head. She waits, embracing me from behind.

“I was seventeen when I met her. Just a kid myself but so enthralled with her. She was a few years older than me, on the edge of something, and I just wanted to be a part of it. I didn’t know her husband, Bruce, but he sounded like a loser, and when Kit found herself alone after his death, with her sweet baby, Ivy, I wanted to take care of her even though I was still a kid myself. She wouldn’t have me at first, and I thought it was a game of cat and mouse. Kit loved to flirt, and she fought the attraction. When she finally gave in, she didn’t want me permanently. Not in a long-term kind of way. She didn’t have a problem fucking me,” I snap bitterly. “But keeping me? Committing to me? Nope.”

I shudder again.

“We were a band on the rise. Kit was instantly successful. We fucked around with each other, but she had flings on the side. I did, too. It was a vicious circle. We always came back together, and I thought one day I’d just wear her down like I did the first time. Then she had another baby.

“I wasn’t supposed to know. She took six months off. Disappearing to find inspiration, she claimed. Restore the muse, she told us. But I needed to know she was okay. I followed her one day, came to her home, and saw her getting out of a car with an infant carrier.”

I squeeze Midge’s fingers, grateful she’s behind me and not witnessing the wetness dripping down my face.

“I questioned her, and we fought. She told me she wasn’t discussing him with me. Ever. She was adamant. Didn’t want to hear me ask if I was the father. Didn’t want to hear my accusations of her sleeping around. Doc couldn’t tell me anything. Tommy said it was a roadie’s kid. All the non-disclosure agreements we had on one another prevented us from speaking to anyone else. The dirt was so deep on each of us, no one would talk, no one would tell.

“Fuck, I hated her at the time. I wanted to quit the band, but I couldn’t. What would I do? Work for my dad? I didn’t finish college. I didn’t want to work his trade. I wanted my dream…and the drink…and the drugs…and the girl. I still loved her, and eventually, she came around. One night, she’d need me, and that’s all it took to start the circles again. Around and around and around, we went. Nearly twenty fucking years. Then she got diagnosed with cancer. She cleaned up. She had to go for chemo, but there wasn’t much hope. It metastasized quickly. I sank deeper because I couldn’t help her out of a killer disease. Ivy once hinted something to me, but I was too blitzed to care, question, follow up. I never questioned Kit again about the kid.”

I pause, recalling the situation, my head lowering in shame. I was too afraid to lose her, lose the band, so I honored her threat and never asked again—until it was too late for answers.

“What did Ivy say?” Midge prompts, her lips pressing to my skin while she speaks.

“She said, she loves you, Uncle Hank. In her own way. But we never said I love you. Not like that. It was I love when you fuck me. Never said any other way or under any other condition. Then one night near Kit’s end, Ivy said, it was never a roadie, always me. Her mama didn’t want to rely on any man, but Ivy thought Kit needed me, and I needed the truth in order to let her go.”

Midge’s forehead hits my back, her arms still wrapped around my middle. Despite the now cool shower and the sadness of my memories, my dick grows harder with the proximity of Midge’s fingers. I want to lower her hands, make her take me in them, and let me forget for a few minutes. I want to be selfish when I shouldn’t.

“I think I’ll give you a second,” Midge says, shivering at my back. The release of her naked body against mine chills me even more, but I hold out before I step out of the stall and wrap a towel around my waist. I find Midge sitting against the headboard in my t-shirt.

“Little lady, are you naked under that tee?”

“Maybe,” she teases, her lip curling genuinely for the first time all evening. I crawl up the bed toward her, and she slips down to her back, scooting under me. Balancing on my elbows, I brush back her hair, looking into her gold-speckled eyes.

“I want to get lost in you tonight.” The admission is raw and real. I just want to lose myself, bury myself inside her, and think only of us. No more Kit. No more past. No more hurt.

Midge lifts her head, kissing me tenderly while holding my face in her hands. Already sporting a half wood, it only takes a couple of hungry kisses to skyrocket me to full mast. I tug at the towel to remove it from around my waist, to feel the heat of her thighs under my damp skin.

“Fuck, I want you, little lady. I want to disappear inside you.” Her mouth opens, her tongue finding mine. She hasn’t kissed me like this before—so desperate and frantic. She’s unraveling, which is how I feel.

“Midge,” I warn. Taking control, I rub against her, letting the wetness of her entrance coat my tip. I push my shirt up her middle and devour one breast, latching on and sucking deeply. I’ll mark her with the suction. I want to leave her wearing more than my shirt on her skin. Tugging the shirt over her head, I flip her over.

“Let me take you like this,” I groan, my dick heavy against her ass.

“I’ve never…” Her voice fades and I sense the panic.

“Not up the ass, baby. Just from behind.” I need inside her, and the reverse position will draw me deep.

“Kneel up,” I command, pressing back for her to hitch her ass in the air. My hand smooths over the perfect curve of her backside. Damn, I like her like this, but I want even more of her. “Sit up. Hold the headboard.” I reach for a condom in the nightstand while she scrambles upward. Once sheathed, I position my knees under her, my dick poised at her entrance.

“You okay with this?” I mutter, anticipating the moment I’ll disappear into her. She sits on my lap with her back to me.

“Yes,” she breathes. Nibbling at the juncture of her shoulder and neck is my only warning. She grunts at the invasion. Swift but cautious, my dick fills her as I tug her down in one thrust. We still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to the angle. Deep in this position, she swallows me whole, her ass hitting my abs. One arm snakes around her stomach, holding her pressed to me. Moving her at my will, I lift her and build a slow repetitive rhythm while she clutches the wooden headboard.

“Fuck, I love being inside you. Warm. Wet.” Wonderful, I exhale. Hammering at her, I hear her breath hitch. I own her at this moment, and I’m right where I want to be—lost in her—or, rather, found by her. I’m going to blow too quickly as she lets me take her, move her, love her.

I love you, my head screams, but I can’t say it. Not like this, not for the first time with Midge.

“Middy.” I breathe.

“Fill me,” she says, and I implode, stars dotting my vision as I press upward, shooting off inside her. She stills, encircling me. The tips of my fingers imprint on her hips. I’m holding her to keep from floating away. Leaning forward, I rest my forehead on her shoulder.

“You didn’t,” I mutter, disappointed in not getting her there first.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, and I know from her tone, she’s not.