Chapter 4
James
He lay in bed, yawning and attempting to fall asleep before the Friends rerun ended on TV. The shower in the master bathroom continued to lull him into a doze, but he couldn’t sleep. Not with so much always on his mind.
James had heard a rumor on the grapevine that his lovely Gwenny had flipped off the Welshes after running into them at lunch. That’s my girl. It was that kind of spunk that attracted him to her. A drop-dead gorgeous woman with a mouth like fire and heels that weren’t afraid to castrate a man who got in her way? Clearly, Gwen Mitchell had no idea what she was getting into when she agreed to go home with James one late night in their early twenties.
Still, it was going to be a “thing,” wasn’t it? The only reason James heard about it was because one of his old frat buddies wanted to warn him that the grapevine was giving people whiplash after that display. If a man had come up to him to whisper in his ear that Gwen had caused a minor scene, then it was going to be big. Eventually.
Not that James really cared. Gwen had simply done what he hadn’t been able to get away with recently.
Not gonna lie, it turns me on. Like the thought of Gwen naked in the shower right now turned him on. Damn. How long had it been since he joined her for some naked time in the shower? Months? A year? James slung his arm across his face and tugged on the collar of his T-shirt. Whew. He knew he and Gwen weren’t in the best of ways recently, but did that mean he couldn’t enjoy the thought of making love to her right now?
If they hadn’t had much sex recently, what did that mean about the kinky side of their relationship? Used to be they were two of the biggest rabble-rousers in the local kink scene. God knew they were the most established couple, thanks in part to James’s affable humor and Gwen’s ability to talk to anyone. That bartender magic had pulled in so many tips and lovers before she met James. He knew. He loved making her talk about it. She must’ve been the best in the business if I decided I wanted her the first night I hung out at that place. The drinks weren’t great, and the atmosphere was okay, but Gwen? The lead bartender who practically ran the place when no one else was around? James had gone every chance he had, so he could talk to her and butter her up for at least one night together.
I mean… we fucked against the wall in her break room. That’s a good sign, right?
James propped himself up in bed in time for Gwen to march out in her baggy T-shirt and a toothbrush stuck in her mouth. She ignored him in favor of Ross and Rachel in yet another situation in New York. Gwen was the one who first pondered, “How do these people have shitty jobs and afford apartments like that in New York?” and made James wonder how the other side truly lived. (He had regretted asking that after Gwen took him to her hometown in rural Pennsylvania.)
“Gwenny,” James said with the voice she used to die for. “How about you come get in bed with me after you finish making your breath nice and pretty.”
Used to be she would give him a big, silly smile, complete with toothpaste foam spilling from the corners of her mouth and dripping down the front of her shirt. Tonight, however, Gwen turned and went back into the bathroom like a robot with instructions to follow.
James slipped down his pillow with a sigh. He made sure the TV was off before Gwen came back into the bedroom.
“Can I say that you have the best taste in T-shirts?” James didn’t know where this big, baggy gray thing came from, but he adored the way it draped on Gwen’s lean body. It accentuated her breasts, her ass, and those hips he loved more than the hair on her head. Bonus points if it were cold enough to make her nipples poke through the fabric. Tonight, however, James was not so blessed. “Not as good as mine, of course. Then again… wait. That’s one of my shirts, right?” For some reason, that cheered him up.
“Is it?” Gwen pushed herself beneath the covers, tossing her hair into a messy bun that may or may not survive the night. It didn’t matter what she did – her hair would always be a giant tangle in the morning, and she would always be beyond beautiful, bags beneath her eyes and all. James had been a bit shocked to see what she looked like without makeup, but they had been together for seven years, so he must have gotten used to it. “Maybe. I never noticed.”
“You stole it from me years ago.” James slipped his arm across her chest. When he wasn’t rebuffed, he nibbled on her ear and continued, “I let you keep it because you’re so cute.”
She chuckled. “Flatterer.”
Oh, good! This was going well! I can’t believe I’m now so excited when she’s open to me flirting with her, let alone in bed. Well, James was always excited to flirt with his domestic partner, but granted Gwen’s mood over the past year, it was more like relief than excitement. That little thrill wasn’t about possibly getting laid for the first time in two months. It was 100% hoping that Gwen was finally coming around to the new changes in their collective life.
“You know me.” He wrapped both arms around her and held her close to his chest. With any luck, I won’t… damnit. There it goes. His brain said to hold off on arousal, but his cock had other ideas. The ornery thing was anxious to get this party started for the first time in… how long ago had it been when she helped him get to sleep after an anxious night? A handjob. That’s what I’m longing after right now? Kill me. Just kill me, Gwenny.
“Yes, I know you quite well, Mr. Merange.” The way that jumbled name slipped off Gwen’s tongue was as good as sex. “Like how you’re buttering me up right now to get some.”
“Get some what?”
“You know what.”
“Nah. Not me. No idea. You gotta use small words to make me understand.”
He could feel her roll her eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Saaaaay it. Say sexxxxx.”
“Ew!” Gwen playfully pushed against his chest as she giggled her way out of the bed. “You got spit all over my ear!”
“Not the only place I can put some spit, if you know what I mean.”
She was halfway out the bed, shirt riding up her back and showing off her complete lack of underwear. “I’m on my period.”
He raised his eyebrows, because after seven years together, James had seen his fair share of period happenings. I know you just got out of the shower, dear, but I can clearly see your pussy and it’s very much not aiding and abetting Aunt Flo.
“Liar.”
Gwen flung herself onto her back. “Maybe.”
He lightly smacked her bare thigh, head still propped up on his hand and eyebrows waggling. “Just say you don’t want me. It’s fine.”
Gwen spun onto her side, away from him.
“I’m not falling for that.”
“Just trying to have a little fun.” James lay down, hands behind his head and smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Remember how much fun you used to have when I opened those doors for you?”
“You mean the doors that let you insert your foot into your mouth?”
“That’s the one.”
Gwen sighed. “You really are good at that.”
“I’m good at a lot of things.” He looped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. The perfect opportunity for his cock to hit her bare ass and remember what it wanted. Look, man, you’re not helping my case here. I know you miss our girl, but I have a feeling stabbing her ass isn’t going to help us get laid. For some reason, that didn’t work. Which meant James was going to have to go with Plan B.
“Have I told you recently that you are the most beautiful woman in the world?”
Gwen opened her mouth but retracted what she wanted to say. That was good. Because it meant she was rethinking her immediate reaction to an old friend knocking at her back door. One you haven’t said hello to in a while, Gwenny! If she really were not in the mood, she would have told him to sod off and slammed her head on the pillow. James would have stayed on his side of the bed… and maybe go take another shower.
“Not recently, no. You’ve been slacking. Starting to think you’re about to trade me in for a younger model.”
That almost offended James, a man once thought to be imperturbable. “Younger? What would I do with a younger woman? Can’t get much younger than you, anyway. You’re what, twenty-one?”
“Ha, ha,” Gwen said, still facing away from him. “Girls who are now my age when we met are from a different generation. I think. When does Millennial end, and Gen Z begin?”
“I have no idea. I refute the idea that I am a Millennial every single day.” James was in his thirties, for fuck’s sake. He also hated avocados!
“Technically, we are.”
“Technically, I’d rather be making out than talking about this.”
Gwen finally rolled in his direction. “I lied.”
“About what?”
“I’m not on my period.”
James grinned so widely that he almost pulled a muscle in his face. “Even if you were, my dear, it wouldn’t make a lick of difference to me.” Or the friend between my legs. He really, really doesn’t care.
“It’d make a difference to me.”
James lightly kissed her shoulder. “I love you, Gwenny.”
The way she tensed beneath his touch suggested she hadn’t expected him to suddenly sound so soft and sincere. “I love you too, Jimmy.”
He laughed. “Touché. Every time.” Nobody hated that nickname more than James, who would rather have his two front teeth punched out than ever be called Jimmy with any level of sincerity. Still, if he was calling his girlfriend Gwenny, she had every right to throw Jimmy back at him. It had been that way since their first official date and he asked, “Can I call you Gwenny? I really wanna call you Gwenny.”
“Only if I can call you Jimmy,” she had retorted.
“You mean it?” He spooned her, their bodies molding together as if they had always been that way. “Because I’ll always mean it when I say that I love you.”
She relaxed in his embrace. “Of course I mean it. You think I’m the type of woman to lie about loving someone? What do you think I want from you? Your money?”
“Think you want my cock, honestly.”
“Your money is flashy and temperamental, but your cock is forever.”
“Aw, but you’d still love me if I like… lost my cock, right?”
“James Merange,” Gwen said with a sigh, before she turned over in his embrace and lightly slapped his cheek. “You are the only man I have ever met who could say that with a straight face.”
“My face ain’t straight.”
“Not much about you is.”
He hooked his hand on his hip. “Still talking about my cock, are we?”
She felt him up within his loose-fitting sweatpants. “Uh huh.”
“Woo boy, you woke him up now.” James wasn’t kidding, either. It had been mind over matter before now. He’d be lucky to make it another few minutes without throwing himself on Gwen. “What are you going to do about that?”
“Would you come out and say you want to fuck me?”
“I’m trying to be suave. It’s been a while, okay? I’m rusty.”
“You better not be rusty with this thing.”
“Is that… is that the go ahead I’ve been waiting for all this time?” James rolled onto his back again, arms spread wide and mouth agape in wonder. “I can’t believe it. Finally. The moment I’ve been praying for. Just ask my priest.”
“I’m not asking priests anything about you.”
With a smile that announced his impure intentions, James flung himself onto his partner, grunting in glee as she yelped in giggly surprise.
If there was one thing he could say about their relationship, it was that it had always felt right. When James walked into Gwen’s bar that first night, tired from work and questioning the direction his life was heading, he beheld a warm light that invited him into quirky conversations and brought with it the knowledge that he had found The One he had been searching for.
Because, unlike what some people liked to spout about James Merange’s college years, he had always been a big ol’ romantic at heart.
If there was anything he wanted to impart to Gwen that night, it was the sense of longing he still harbored in his heart. She was the only woman who had ever seen him for who he really was. While James may have been the only heir to a vast fortune, he was also an easy-going guy who would rather have fun with real people in a dingy dive bar than spend his evenings in gentlemen’s clubs, networking and greasing wheels. He also enjoyed the finer things, as his upbringing dictated. He needed a woman who understood an emotionally simpler life while also not batting her pretty eyelashes at hopping a plane to Kenya at the last minute. Gwen had become that woman in such a short amount of time. Every day James considered himself the luckiest man in the world.
Which was why he was determined to keep her. Forever.
I know you’re thinking about leaving me. James was more in tune with her thoughts and feelings than she may have ever thought. It was what kept their relationship fresh – up until the baby made things a little too fresh. I don’t want you to ever leave me. I would understand if you did, but… I can’t allow it. James had an arduous task before him. Either convince Gwen that it was always worth staying with him…
Or cut his losses. Now.
That was impossible, though. Gwen was too precious to ever cut off.
She probably wanted a nice, hot quickie to sate whatever needs had been building up within her body for the past few weeks. Both of their moods were amicable to having sex like they used to. But James knew that a hit it and quit it on a Monday night wouldn’t be enough to give Gwen endless thoughts of how much he loved her – and why she should stay.
“Do you know how much I love you?” James wrapped his arms tightly around her torso, holding Gwen’s limbs to her side and making her ass wiggle against his pelvis. “I love you so much that I’m never going to let you go. Especially not tonight.”
James was a guy who liked to workout. That was one of the best ways to socialize with some of his closest friends. What guy didn’t like hitting the gym or the track with one of his best friends to spot him and shoot the breeze? The guys he went with changed with the breezes, but one thing always remained the same: James’s physique. He didn’t have rippling muscles or washboard abs, but he was fit, tough, and strong. Gwen hit the gym on the regular basis too, and God knew she could uppercut an attacker in the jaw, but she was no match for James when he wanted to make a point in the bedroom. Feeling her wiggle like that, as she assessed whether she could make a game of trying to free herself from her gasp, was half the fun of making love.
They had a safe word as old as their relationship. Vermillion. The name of the bar where we met. If Gwen really didn’t want to deal with his games, she would utter it in a heartbeat. She had done it before. That ruthless color had killed more than a few moods over the years, and James held his breath that it wouldn’t happen tonight. Want me, Gwen. Still want me.
Her body stiffened in his grasp. His cock strained against his sweatpants, eager to have some fun and score some relief. Yet James would never in a million years push her to do something she didn’t want.
“Good,” she whispered, inviting him to wrap his whole body around hers and to nestle his lips against her ear. “Maybe I don’t want to be let go.”
That was the thing about Gwen. She was a tough girl who knew how to take punches and hurl them right back. It was what made her so resilient to the shit she put up with in her partner’s world, a world she never knew existed until they met. Gwen was no wilting flower. She was a strong, unbending tree that swayed with the winds and bloomed even when her branches were tangled by the seasonal storms. That was the kind of woman James needed in his life. He wasn’t about to let her go.
Not when she kept him so steadfastly in the moment. Like now, when she gasped to have him touch her beneath her shirt and search for her wetness. He momentarily feared that she wouldn’t want him after all. He had blessedly been wrong.
Sometimes, when he made love to the love of his life, he wondered what it would be like to want more. More than this. More than what people saw when James Merange and Gwen Mitchell walked into a room, hand-in-hand. More than the silly rumors about the kinky sex life they now rarely indulged.
“You want this, don’t you?” James rocked into her from behind. It was easy enough to talk when his words voiced everything going through his head, from how soft she felt to his touch, to how beautiful her moans were. “Tell me how much you want it.”
Gwen shoved her face into the pillow, a long, drawn-out moan eliciting the kind of attention they both craved. It would be a miracle if James could hold off climax for more than another minute. Weeks since they last made love? Desperately wanting her? Living in the moment and foregoing a scripted scene? Miracles could happen, but he wasn’t praying for one right now.
“Give it to me.”
Her sweet groan was all James needed. He held her close, touched her body, and gave her exactly what they both wanted.
It was the harried kind of love that was full of intent and divine purpose. James could easily imagine spending the rest of his life with this woman. From the moment he first kissed her, he knew that was his end-game.
Him. Gwen. Whatever life they carved out together. He didn’t care what kind it was, as long as they had fun and were happy. It was that attitude that had led them on many adventures and opened their hearts and minds to certain things other couples balked at.
Then again, that had always been James’s attitude toward life. He was the son of stuffy rich parents who didn’t turn out like them, much to their chagrin.
Damnit. He wasn’t supposed to think about them right now. He was only supposed to think about Gwen, and how good she felt.
“Come for me, Gwen.” James was on the edge, but he could hold off a while longer if it meant Gwen stole the show for a second. Besides, what felt better than a woman climaxing on his cock?
Love, perhaps. Those often went together for James Merange.
“I’m coming,” Gwen gasped, voice still muffled by her pillow. James shoved his face between the locks of her hair and kissed the back of her neck. It offered him more leverage as Gwen inevitably shimmied away from him with her oncoming orgasm. He had to find some way to pin her down and make her accept what he had to offer. “I’m…”
James may have been on top and in control, but Gwen was the one suffocating him with nothing but her inner walls. Because there she went, clamping onto his cock and bringing him down from his mighty, lofty heights. She cried out in ecstasy, her harried Oh-oh-ohs growing louder until she rode an untouchable cloud James could only hope to match.
“Fuck.” The point of no return had arrived. James flung himself on top of her and shoved himself as deep as he could go. But his thrusts had ceased, for his brain was too consumed with the heat of pleasure to keep up with his movements.
“Oh, God.” Gwen’s mouth was open, and her eyes closed. Her body stretched against his, left leg curling tighter around his so she was completely open and accepting of his lovemaking. James languished in the slow waves of orgasm taking over. Never had there been a time in their relationship when Gwen didn’t allow him inside her like this. “That’s unreal.”
James chuckled into the crook of her neck. Here came the fatigue, and he was willing to wallow in it. “You’re unreal.”
“You say that every time.”
“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, Gwen.”
He rolled onto his back, hand on his face to keep out the offensive light still on in their bedroom. Gwen slowly shifted toward him and took up residence in the turn of his arm.
“You never have.”
A ball of her hair ended up in his fist. James sighed. “We’ll get through this. We get through everything.”
Gwen closed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“What do you want to do, then?”
“Lay here.”
So they did, for a few minutes, at least.