Sipe a Tire – A process of using a razor blade to cut a tire’s threads causing the rubber to break off.
After the accident it took some time for Jameson to be released for sexual activity. Even then, it took some time for him to be into it. That first time when our bodies finally came together, after his failed exam with NASCAR, I wondered if I had done something wrong. It felt like motions to satisfy an urge and nothing like the connection we had.
I understood he wasn’t feeling like himself yet but I couldn’t lie, it bothered me.
Had the Mama Wizard lost her touch?
Alley came over not long after Jameson left for the sprint car shop that morning after we got back from Charlotte to meet Tommy and Willie before they took off to Eldora.
Alley seemed to notice my distraction immediately. “What’s wrong with you lately? I understand why Jameson is moody, he’s always moody but you’re not. Are you okay?”
“Just some things on my mind today.” That was my attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere but it didn’t work. Never did with Alley or Emma.
“Spill the beans,” Alley pushed cookies my direction.
Staring down at the cookies, I burst into tears. It must have been all that pent up emotion but it was like a fucking flood gate opened. We had a dozen cookies gone before I was finally able to speak.
“Sex just hasn’t been the same. We’ve only done it twice and both times it wasn’t us. It felt like both of us were trying too hard and then when it was over, I felt guilty like I hadn’t given it everything I had. I even faked an orgasm so he wouldn’t feel like he couldn’t satisfy me! Who does that?”
“I have before.” Rosa raised her hand coming into the room.
Alley gave her a funny look and then turned back to me. Rosa sat next to us and opened a beer she pulled from her bra.
We both gave her a funny look after that. She shrugged. “In my country it’s five o’clock.”
“You’re from America,” I said to her. “You know that right?”
“No comprender?” Rosa replied gauging our reactions.
“Sway,” Alley gave me a confused expression focusing on the situation at hand. My sex life. “Not every time is mind-blowing.”
“I know that. But it’s never been like this for us.”
“You do realize that he nearly died earlier this year. Maybe his gear isn’t working properly.”
“Alley!” I shoved against her shoulder as she laughed and Emma walked into the kitchen and sat next to Rosa eyeing her beer and then us. She too ate what was left of the cookies. “His gear works just fine.”
“Yuck. Don’t talk about my brother’s gear,” Emma gagged spitting her cookie out. “Let’s talk about prom. Can I take Arie and Lex to New York next week?”
“No,” Alley answered with no reservations.
“Why would Arie go to prom? She already got her GED.”
“Every girl needs to go prom.”
“Sway,” Alley turned to me again. “Have you tried changing it up, maybe getting a little freaky or something?”
“Oh, my God,” Emma shivered and gave us this disgusted snort, “stop talking about this!”
“Hey,” I reached over the counter and smacked the back of Emma’s head. “I’m having a meltdown today, be supportive or leave.”
Emma left but Rosa and Alley were all ears.
“What do you mean by freaky?” My eyes dropped to my hands avoiding eye contact.
Alley went on to explain that Spencer and her had watched porn at one time. So she gave me a few DVDs and Rosa handed me an erotica book. I’d read those types of books before and skimmed through the one she had given me … only to quickly find that I had never read something like that before. It was like bondage and whips and chains and shit I had never considered. Ever. But, needless to say, I was intrigued by it and that scared the shit out of me but then some of it made me blush at the thought. Frankly, the idea of some of that stuff resembled something out of a horror movie.
I wasn’t sure how to react to it but I knew that Jameson wouldn’t be home until later that night so I thought that I could get some ideas before he came home.
After making sure the kids weren’t home, I inserted the DVD into the player and then sat in the middle of our bed, watching.
Five minutes into it, I was regretting my decision.
As I sat there, dressed in my drive-by-clothes which consisted of a black hoodie, with the hood over my head, strings drawn tight, and black sweatpants, I was sweating.
Viewing the movie through the small opening in my hood, my reaction was both denial and disagreement that I was actually watching it.
And then I started to sweat. Like really sweating and my breathing was increasing. And then my crankcase started to have a reaction I wasn’t expecting.
I knew exactly what was happening. My crankcase was thinking some align boring was about to happen based solely on what I was seeing. It was like the time Jameson and I had heard my neighbors in college having sex.
Holy shit, I’m a porn freak. And there was no argument from my head.
Did I mention I was sweating? All that sweating had me basically gasping because I still had my hood on and it felt like a thousand degrees. So I peeled that off and continued watching. I was amazed at some of the angles they show, too. I mean, sorry, but I don’t want to look at a view of a man’s asshole.
I just don’t.
They were really getting into it on the movie, grunts and screaming, all that shit so I decided to try to fast forward and see how it ended when the door to our bedroom opened and Jameson came inside.
My first thought, you fucking idiot! Why didn’t you lock that shit? My second coherent thought was that I should play dead.
He closed the door with his foot, eyes on his phone in his hand, the sound made me jump about two fucking feet and scramble for the remote that I couldn’t find.
I had been caught.
There was no way around it.
Pulling the hood back over my head, I contemplated acting like I was asleep or something equally ridiculous like I’d passed out and someone had put it in the DVD player without my knowledge. A lot of shit ran through my head. There were all kinds of lies going through me but no responses from my body. I just sat there like a goddamn idiot.
I’ve had some really embarrassing shit happen to me in my life but getting caught watching porn was probably the cake topper.
Jameson must have noticed the sounds coming from the television and stopped mid-stride, backtracked, and cocked his head at the screen. “Is that... are you ...?” his eyes squinted as his head slowly turned to me and then back at the screen just as slowly. “What’s going on?”
He turned back to me with a sly grin.
“Uh...” I stuttered out as if the fact that it was on the screen would have been self-evident.
I was pretty confident I lost all self-respect right there.
He stood there, his left hand that was holding his phone pointed at the screen as if he was going to ask a question and then he stopped, looked at me with just a slight tilt of his head, eyebrows raised and then licked his bottom lip but dragged it slowly through his teeth like he was trying to decide what to do.
My breath started increasing anticipating him doing what was happening on the screen to me.
Kicking off his shoes first, he reached for the hem of his t-shirt, ripped that over his head and then started working on the buckle of his jeans as he walked toward me. He got to the end of our bed, his knees hit the headboard.
It didn’t take me long and I was shredding my drive-by-clothes faster than the screamers jack-rabbiting each other on the screen.
“It’s pretty hot seeing you watch this…but,” his eyes caught mine. “What brought this on?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What was I going to tell him?
Alley and Rosa convinced me to watch porn and become a whore. I don’t think so. Not admitting that.
He let out a sharp breath when my hand slipped inside his pants.
His voice was husky and strained as he started to climb on the bed. “Fuck Sway, that feels so good.”
I was literally reeling with excitement. Somehow the movie got turned off and frankly I was okay with that because I had some concerns about Alley and Spencer’s taste in porn after watching that.
Jameson didn’t seem to mind. He gave me the impression he was more interested in me.
Clothes seemed to disappear easily, my frantic fingers fumbled with his jeans trying to get them down. Soon he was hovering over me and moving against me but I knew what was happening. The same thing that happened the last two times seemed to be happening. We would get into it and then something happened, both of us trying to avoid that there was a change. Still frantic, we tried to hold onto what wasn’t there.
I held on to the fact that the noises that escaped his mouth were almost as good as the words he wouldn’t say these days.
My needy hands roamed over his skin searching for the connection and praying it wasn’t lost.
My body was underneath him, calling to him, begging him to show me we still had the connection.
We switched positions and he seemed into it, so I kept up everything I was doing. He responded to all the ways I was touching him until I said. “Tie me up.”
“Come again?” His eyes were unfocused but he watched me move from straddling him to putting my hands over my head.
“Tie me up,” I repeated feeling something similar to a shy child.
A smile tugged at his lips. “You wanna get dirty, honey?”
That gave me that courage I needed and I grinned, too. “Yeah.”
So he tied me up with ratchet tie downs he used at the shop. It was perfect in my mind because car parts were our thing.
Moving between my legs, he entered me again, groaning when he was in all the way, his mouth hot against my skin as he panted.
Then I thought about all the possibilities of what that sprint car shop held for us. We hadn’t done it in the new shop and the thought had me getting into it.
“Hit me!” I was in the moment and said what came to mind.
He stopped and propped himself up on his elbows looking down at me. He said nothing but looked at me like I had just asked him if I could shove something up his ass.
Apparently our version of dirty was different.
“What?” his eyes squinted and he swallowed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“You never had a problem with it before. We’ve been rough before?”
It wasn’t long and he grabbed a handful of my ass and then swatted it once.
I got braver.
“I... mean my face.” I had no idea what had come over me and hated Alley and Rosa for turning me into a whore.
He pulled away again searching my face. “Seriously, what’s with you?”
“I just want to try something a little different.” I grabbed his hand and placed it on my cheek. “Just give me a little slap.”
“Sway, I don’t like this.” His pained expression told me he had some reservations that went deeper than his words. His hand seemed to tremble slightly as if he was scared but he didn’t move it. But he also didn’t hit me. “I’m not comfortable hitting you.”
“I’m not asking you to punch me.”
“You might as well be,” he mumbled dropping his head to my shoulder, removing his hand from my cheek as his movements stopped.
He wasn’t going to hit me and I knew that.
Jameson was completely uncomfortable and then that made me feel like I was weird for wanting to try something different.
I sighed and he seemed to know that I was getting frustrated with our lack of connection.
“Get on your knees,” he demanded.
Hot damn.
His hands grasped my ass right as his hips met mine with forceful movements. Through my glimpse over my shoulder, I could see his head bent forward, his eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as he panted. The straining muscles visible in his stomach flexed with each forward thrust. Watching him in the midst of enjoying himself was hot.
And then my rev limiter hit red line.
You know the times when you’re having sex and it was all hot and aggressive, much like now, but the climax just wasn’t the same? It was good but not mind-blowing like I’d hoped for. Something was missing.
Jameson sped his movements, his hands on my ass squeezed tighter and I looked over my shoulder at him. And he came. And though it was mesmerizing, something was missing.
It wasn’t long and he fell asleep. Nothing was said because, like I said, something was just missing.
Alley showed up the next morning when Jameson left for the shop to meet Noah.
“Well?” Alley asked with excitement handing me coffee she brought with her.
My body slumped forward. “It was a fucking clusterfuck. I watched that video and he came in the room. Then when I wanted to try it, he acted as though I was asking him to beat me.”
Alley seemed confused. “You can’t tell me that hard ass has never gotten rough before. I saw those bite marks back in the day and I remember you havin’ to buy new underwear all the time.”
“He’s never hit me!”
“I mean during sex,” she said flatly.
“Like slapped me?”
“It’s not like Spencer punched me, Sway. It was just a little slap tap to my ass cheek in the heat of the moment.”
“Slap tap?” I laughed.
“It’s just like a little slap to the ass or even your face, but not hard enough to constitute any domestic violence shit.”
“Oh, well he’s done that... you know, hit my ass but never to the point where it hurt or anything. We’ve gotten aggressive before and maybe tossed around before but nothing like what you’re telling me to do.”
“What’s the difference between being tossed around and what I told you to try?”
Maybe I had missed something.
“I need a new approach.”
For a while I was just remotely concerned about this change in our sex life. Now I was obsessed. We spent the greater part of the day talking about it.
Alley looked at me with a smirk handing me a shot glass glance around five that night. “Have you ever done the back forty?”
“What the fuck is that?” In my head I was thinking sex in a field or something. I took the glass and poured myself a drink.
Alley shook her ass on the stool and nearly fell off. Frantically grabbing at the counter, she righted herself and then took a deep breath pushing the bottle of tequila away. “I mean the back door.”
“Oh, uh, well…we tried once a long time ago when we were drunk and he,” I took the shot I poured myself, “... uh... it didn’t work out.”
“Maybe try it,” she shrugged still grinning. “It might help. When we are in a rut, sometimes it’s fun to try something different.”
“I don’t think he’s into that.”
“You never know until you try.”
So, as the whore I had turned into, I tried again that night when he came home. Once again, he got into it quickly but when I told him that maybe we could try something new, after last night, he seemed a little hesitant.
I watched the color rise from his neck and up his cheeks. He seemed nervous and rightfully so. “What is it?”
And then I said, “I thought we could try the back forty.”
He said nothing.
I felt like a complete fucking loser not to mention embarrassed. I was about ready to say fuck it and run to the bathroom crying when he just looked at me and blinked. What the fuck was wrong with him? Didn’t all men want to try the backdoor?
When I went to get up, his arms tightened around me and I was unable to squirm.
“No. I don’t want to do that.” His lips skimmed my collarbone and then moved to my mouth. Kissing me softly at first, he deepened the kiss when I moaned into his mouth. “You’re such a dirty girl when you want to be.” He grunted around my lips and then went back to the kiss that had me nearly ready to come.
My fingernails dragged down his back; and he arched into me at the sensation speeding up his movements. One hand moved from cradling my face to my hips and he grunted as the angle of his hips allowed him to go deeper.
Reaching down to his hand, I gripped it tighter.
“Hold me tighter,” as I let out this whore moan that sounded like my pit lizard days. “I want to scream in pain.”
He inhaled sharply, surprised. “You want me to do what?”
“Be rough.” I was starting to sweat and become all frantic like I would combust if he wasn’t going to give me something that showed we still had it. “I want to scream in pain.”
He hesitated but then reached his hand up and grasped my neck. “Like that?”
“Harder.”
He wasn’t comfortable at all. I knew that. His eyes darted to his hand and my face again. “Is that too tight?”
“No,” I whimpered unwinding around him. “It’s so good. So fucking good,”
In the heat of the moment, aggression got the best of him and he forcefully grabbed the sheets fisting them in his hands. “Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy.” He called at throwing his head forward.
“Tighter, squeeze my neck tighter!”
It was official. I was becoming a porn star.
“No,” he shook his head against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut enjoying the movements. “I’ll hurt you.”
“No you won’t.” I shook my head trying to squeeze his hands tighter. “Just do it!”
“Where is this coming from?” Jameson murmured, amused when I moaned at the contact as he gave a little more pressure.
“No, harder.”
“No, Sway.” He moved his hands away from my neck and raised his upper body to look at me. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Are you going to do it, or should I just take care of myself?” I snapped feeling the emotion and embarrassment rush through me.
Given, I was embarrassed at that point. I said what came to mind.
His expression of curiosity turned to anger.
Leaning back on his heels, his gaze wasn’t pleasant. “I know what you’re doing.” His tone cut through me. “You think things will go back to normal if you try something new. But you’re missing the point.”
“Oh, yeah,” I shook my head with attitude. “What’s that?” I too sat up against the headboard.
“I love you,” he growled between clenched teeth blistering my skin. “That has never changed.”
“I know that.”
“Then what’s this all about?”
“Just fuck me!” I yelled. “That’s all I want!” I had completely lost it and continued my rant reaching my emotional threshold yet again. “I want what we used to have. I want the hot dirty sex that had you ripping my panties off in your motor coach and taking me on the hood of your race car. I want to destroy bedrooms and closets and break our shower door again. I want to take you to the hospital again so you can have your ass stitched from falling through the shower door. I want kinky!”
I wasn’t entirely sure what my verbal lashing had done but I was on my back again in a second and he was forcefully entering me.
“Is this what you want? You want me to treat you like this, like you mean nothing to me? You want me to disrespect you to make you feel sexy?” His control was gone. He was pissed and more so than I’d see in a while. More so, it was the result of me. “Does this fucking turn you on?” His fiery eyes full of anger met mine and his hand that was grasping my hip and causing bruises, grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back so his mouth had access to my skin. I moaned.
“Is that what you want?” he repeated as his teeth found my heated flesh.
I didn’t say anything in reply because I had no idea what to say at that point.
He wouldn’t look at me, instead, his eyes squeezed shut, his head bent forward but his breathing was harsh.
Was he enjoying it?
Maybe.
He kept his movements up. With force, he slammed into me, my breath expelled in a heavy gasp.
The bed shook and the headboard knocked against the wall as he pushed into me over and over again. His grip hurt, his touch rough but strangely, I was enjoying it.
I couldn’t move. Not with his strong body pressed to mine and his hold on my wrists that were now above my head. Pinned beneath him was what I wanted, so I thought.
The angle of his hips and the forceful pushes wasn’t exactly comfortable and I knew when my head hit the headboard again I just might get a concussion from this.
I went to move to adjust his hold on me when it got to be too tight.
“Don’t move,” he growled. “You wanted it rough.”
We apparently had entirely different ideas about what rough meant now.
It crossed my mind that I had I pushed too much. This wasn’t exactly what I had planned.
Though I was turned on, I was sobbing by the end and he knew it.
He didn’t look at me and when he came, his body shook, his back arching into me, his mouth at my neck bit down hard and grunted with each forceful push. His hips twitching as he finished panting into my neck.
My body shook with silent sobs when he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at me.
That was when I saw the glistening on his. I wasn’t sure if his emotion was from being so forceful or the fact that I was crying. “Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”
It wasn’t up for conversation and before I could say anymore or defend my reasoning, he removed himself completely and headed for the bathroom, the door slammed behind him.
I laid there for close to an hour crying, confused and strangely turned on by his aggression. Jameson has always been a hothead and easily set off but never when we were together intimately. I wanted to call Alley and ask her if that’d ever happened to her but, then again, I didn’t really want to think of Spencer that way or know any details.
When he finally came to bed, I decided I needed to explain. “I only suggested that because I feel like we’ve lost our connection. I hate this.” I motioned between us. “Something is wrong and I thought being different might spark something.”
He sighed heavily, weariness settling over us, and rolled to the side away from me. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he hesitated and then looked over at me. Like a poison in his blood, he hated this as much as I did.
“You think I want to feel this shit?” he then pushed himself from the bed to stand beside it, his arms raised defensively. “You think I want to be so detached I can’t even make love to my wife the way I want to? I want to. I want to spend days in bed with you and never let go. I want it so fucking bad that it’s all I think about! I can’t even pass that fucking test because my mind isn’t even in it. My mind is on you,” the ache is his voice hurt and his words seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. I knew very well the pain he was trying to avoid. “Since my ...” his voice faded as if the pain was too much. “I don’t want to feel this shit. I don’t want any of it!”
For the first time in months, he showed some outright aggression and slammed his fist into our bedroom wall as he left the room.
And here came the tears again.
I wondered if this happened in everyone’s marriage or if we were the only ones. I wondered what other wives did when the man who held their heart in their hands became so distant they weren’t even present when they were. I wondered what porn stars did when they were too sore to move because I was at that point. I wondered if I would feel like I had run a marathon through barbwire and boulders in the morning. Then I cried some more when he didn’t come back to bed.
I missed his eyes that sparkled when we were together and our shared moments. I missed the boy who had promised me forever under thousands of twinkle lights and a fresh blanket of snow.
That promise to me was still there. Under that pain, that regret, the confusion, was a boy fighting. Only now, his fight was a little different.
When he didn’t come to bed, I went looking for him.
I found him, sitting on the kitchen floor in jeans, no shirt, with a bottle Jack resting at his bare feet again. Sighing, his left hand grabbed the bottle and lifted it to his lips. After taking a drink, his head fell back against the cabinet, the bottle dangling in his hand.
Not wanting to pry, again, I left him alone. He came to bed not long after that and though we had an argument, our bodies found each other in the night and by morning I was wrapped around him and comfortable. When the light in our room brightened with each passing minute, he whispered in my ear, low and raspy. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said meaning every word of it.
That morning, my third day as a porn star, Alley came over again with a new bottle of tequila.
Casten eyed her when he got home from Eldora with Tommy and Willie around six. “Should I set up some kind of intervention?” he leaned against the counter with a smirk that resembled one of Jameson’s and waved his hands around to our mess. “It seems this is becoming a ritual.”
Alley had been in the middle of explaining to me that I could try lingerie or even toys. I had seen a dildo before and I didn’t think that would be necessary.
I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by toys but neither did my brain so we both gave up trying and drank with her. It seemed logical.
When the bottle of tequila showed up while we were making dinner—Alley started to make more sense to me.
But the reality of it was that Alley and Rosa were instigating my whorish ways.
We were so drunk by the time dinner was done that it wasn’t even edible and I had to order pizza.
Just about the time the pizza arrived, which Casten had to pay for since we were on the floor, Jameson came home with Spencer. Tommy and Willie were still sitting in the kitchen watching us with Casten. They didn’t know what we were talking about because we gave up that topic and moved onto more important topics.
Aiden’s obsession with his socks.
I was telling Alley about the time Emma and Aiden had fallen through the door in Costa Rica and Jameson nearly knocked himself out.
Jameson glanced at Alley, who was now sprawled across our kitchen floor, as he moved to the counter to grab a few slices of pizza.
“She’s fine,” I told Jameson and Spencer who were staring at us curiously. “I’m sure of it.”
Smiling he gave me a nod and then walked into the family room with Spencer and Tommy to watch the baseball game. Apparently Lucas was pitching tonight for the Mariners.
And when Jameson went to bed after the game without saying anything, my next move was to burst into tears because that seemed appropriate to me, which caused Willie to look at me. Willie was a great drinking partner because he had been arrested for indecent exposure a record number of times and could give a flying fuck about social propriety.
He walked over with absolutely no conviction and put his hand out to comfort me.
“I’m going to stop coming over if every time I do, you cry. I can’t take it,” Willie said looking at me, and then the bottle of Jack in my hand.
“How is that any different from any other girl you know?”
Willie retracted his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “I should be offended by that…but I’m not.”
I smiled and offered the bottle, which he took.
“I’ll be honest with you,” Willie handed the bottle back to me after taking a drink, “the last time I was this drunk I woke up in the back of the hauler wearing red hooker boots and a table cloth.”
“Oh yeah, when was that?”
“Last Tuesday.”
Like I said, no propriety, but Willie was great. He sat there all night and early into the morning drinking with me and Alley and eventually Spencer, too. It was a good thing they all lived close.
So on my fourth day of my whorish ways, I went to the store when Jameson left for the shop. He had a test session in Charlotte at noon and then he said he would head to the shop after that for a few hours and then be back home. He was in a good mood, kissed me goodbye and even got me coffee before he left. I knew that he didn’t want to feel the missing piece that was there. But just like the determined pit lizard I was to get him initially twenty years ago, I was going to get through this and find my Dirty Heathen again.
That night, standing in our room, I eyed my purchases and felt as if CPS would be at my door later. Who does this shit?
Me.
The Mama Wizard determined to get her Dirty Heathen back was who did that kind of shit.
I wasn’t sure where he would be but I thought for sure he would be at the shop so I dressed myself in these black lacy panties and bra to match it with knee-highs and a garter belt thing. I was all whored out complete with black heels I found buried in my closet. I finished up my new image with a tease to my long hair and added some mascara and a little blush.
Standing at the floor length mirror, I felt that I looked good but a little hideous. Throwing on a long black trench coat, I headed for the shop hoping I didn’t get pulled over looking like this.
The metal door squeaked when I opened it. Don’t think I didn’t try to talk myself out of doing it either because I did. Matter of fact, I tried the entire way there.
My mind and body came to one conclusion. Rape him.
Just don’t ask him to hit you in the face.
He was there watching the dyno and entering data with Willie and Tommy.
Tommy looked over his shoulder at me and then raised his eyebrows emitting a low whistle when he saw the heels.
“We’ll come back tomorrow man,” Tommy said when I gave him a look. Jameson had yet to turn around but nodded his head at Tommy and Willie.
Smirking, he slowly turned in the chair to look at me.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with his eyes wandering over my long black trench coat.
“Oh, I just robbed a Chevron.” Walking closer, I let my hand travel up his arm and touch the side of his face. “I had some time to kill.”
He smiled. “Did you get me some skittles?”
“What are you, ten? Who eats those?”
“Me. I eat those.”
“I can think of something better to eat.”
“Oh, yeah, show me and let’s see.” He flipped his wrist for me to remove the coat.
I dropped the coat and straddled him.
He let out a chuckle. “Please don’t ask me to hit you again.”
“Just fuck me,” I sighed moving my hips against the bulge I felt forming with each shift of my hips. “Fuck me like I’m all that’s on your mind. Fuck me like you can’t get enough of me.”
I watched his face fall with each word that I spoke. I watched it fall but he didn’t answer either.
And then he pushed me away gently.
Well that sucks. Once again I turned him off.
Taking my hand, he led me to the door and into the car. We drove back to the house in silence, confused.
“I thought you had work to do?”
“Yeah, well I’m tired.”
And that sucks, too.
He was out of the car and heading inside the house as soon as the engine was shut off. I stepped out of the car slowly, shivering in the cool night air and regretting this ridiculous outfit.
I practically had to run to catch up with him.
Jameson stood straight, posture perfect, shoulders rigid, as he walked throughout the house and then upstairs. He wouldn’t look at me.
I found him inside the bathroom fumbling with his last bottle of antibiotics and the lid he could never seem to get off. Prying it from his fingers, I got it open and then he motioned for me to go inside our room, his eyes on the floor.
I wanted to ask him what his fucking problem was. I mean, I had been trying for three nights and all he did was get pissed off at me and reject my efforts.
Standing outside the bathroom, I rustled through my dresser to find some more appropriate clothes. I was done being a porn star. I wasn’t cut out for such a hard lifestyle. Dropping the coat to the floor, I started to take my bra off but stopped.
The door to the bathroom slammed, startling me. And then I was being lifted off the ground. My legs wrapped around him on instinct.
His lips crashed into mine, relentless and unyielding.
I matched him with everything I had wanting everything he had.
Maybe my porn star days weren’t over.
He pushed forward crushing me into the chocolate colored walls. Hot wet lips were against my throat. The thin fabric of my ridiculous outfit balled up in his fists as he pushed his hips into me. I could feel him right against all the places that missed him so much.
He took a shaky breath and moaned into my mouth. It felt like the first breath he had taken since we got in here, labored and needy.
I met his eyes wild and feral as he pulled at the straps of my garter trying to rip them away. He didn’t have to tug too hard and they were falling to the floor followed by my panties and bra.
His kisses had an intensity I hadn’t seen in a while.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he finally spoke. “I still want you every minute of the day. I still get hard when I think of you naked sprawled out before me.” His hand slipped from my cheek and down the valley between my breasts, eyes remaining locked with mine. “Please believe me when I say that.”
Without saying anything, I brought his mouth back to mine wanting more of those intense kisses.
We were on the bed in seconds and he was entering me the next.
“Make love to me,” I begged holding onto him anywhere I could.
I could feel his body shaking slightly. Catching his stare that was on me, I looked at him, really looked at him. “I love you.”
Jameson let out a shaking breath that seemed emotional for him and nodded; his eyes glistened and then got watery. “I love you, too, honey.”
His left hand, the hand I’d seen show so much of his anger, softly touched my cheek. The other wound in my hair to tip my head back slightly. “I’m sorry. Please believe me.”
His eyes remained intently focused on me, carefully watching. “Sway?”
His hand rose hesitantly brushing the tears aside that I didn’t know had slipped away. Dipping his head, his fingers raised my chin for me to look at him. “Do you believe me?”
“I do.”
Shifting his hips, he began to move inside me. “I want you to know that I will give you whatever you want but I will never hurt you physically for pleasure. That’s not me.”
Nodding, I understood why he had gotten so upset.
“This is you and me. Don’t over think it. Just feel. Feel me...” He pushed himself deeper moving my leg up his thigh higher. His body trembled under my touch. “Feel you...” His hands cradled my head in his hands. “Feel us...”
I fell. Completely fell into a state of fluffy clouds and daisy fields. It was like finding a new groove on a slick track only no one else knew the groove was there. We made love for hours. Sensual mind blowing sex but the kind that was leisurely and full of long passionate kisses that shook you to the very core and felt like you were newlyweds and nothing mattered but that promise you made under thousands of twinkle lights and a fresh blanket of snow.
I felt his breath on my face. He was watching me feeling the moment. His exhale was strained, words shaking. “You’re so beautiful.”
I got lost in my favorite grass green eyes feeling him, feeling me, feeling us. I couldn’t do anything but stare, locked in his eyes that still held that fire I always knew. There was a hunger there spreading goose bumps and sending my heart racing but also beat slow and low with want.
Flushed skin and steady movements, I knew that he felt it too. His palm found my jaw; his thumb brushing my lip as he tilted my face to meet his. His lips parted as he kissed me again.
Life is never perfect. Even the strongest crumble and fall to their knees. Even legends say enough is enough. There was a moment in time, a whisper of hope, a glistening of desire that could bring them back. It was a thread to a tie that brought a husband and wife together again. It was feeling him, feeling me but also feeling us.
There were times when making love, you fell apart together. It might not happen often but it does. It did that night. With sticky cheeks from months of crying, he showed me the love he still had to give to me, like it was inside of me just as much as it was part of him. His cry of pleasure that shot straight through me was low, lips feather light as they barely touched my own. My lids fell shut as I fell just as hard surrounded by those same twinkle lights, shared moments, teasing touches and a blanket of snow, breathless and dreamless.
He whispered that he never wanted to stop but eventually we did and laid there wrapped around one another.
As the sun rose off our balcony, I smiled into his arm that was draped around me. “When did you fall in love with me?”
Part of me had been worried that with the accident that he would have forgotten memories that meant so much to me, memories that made us.
Jameson buried his face between my neck and shoulder and chuckled softly sliding his right hand over the curve of my body. “Looking back on it now, the shift was gradual but I remember when it hit me completely.”
“When?” Twisting in his arms, I wanted to see his eyes. Tracing my fingers over his jaw, I stopped when I got to the tangled loops that had begun to grow back and smiled. Every day he was a little more like himself.
“That day I left Bellingham.” His head tipped sideways as he looked at me. “Do you remember when we were standing in the rain, when you ran out on the runway?”
Smiling, I hummed at the memory instead of replying.
“That’s when,” he said, softly. “When you wrapped your arms around me, I fell. I fell hard and never looked back.”
“I’m glad you never looked back.” I was just about to shift our positions so I could find that camshaft again when he got up. “Hey,” I whined with a pout. “Come back over here. I wasn’t done.”
With a grin, he looked over his shoulder at me, after fumbling with the stereo, shaking with laughter as the sounds of Bump n’ Grind bellowed through our stereo. “I’ve got some ground to make up, honey.”
And, oh God, did we do some making up. He had me bending in directions I hadn’t bent in years. We did the rough sex again, without the emotional anger of the previous nights, he smacked my ass a few times, tied me up, all that shit.
We did it because we had that connection again. We found a new groove.
I wasn’t sure what the change was, or that we just stopped trying so hard, but we found it and I couldn’t have been more thankful for that and the words that made me moan.
Luckily our kids must have known we needed to be alone and we spent the greater part of the day in there reuniting. It felt so good to have him back.
When the sun fell in the sky and the dark began to dance shadows around the room eventually leaving it dark aside from the candle we lit when we broke the lamp.
My ear pressed to his chest listening to the steady rhythm of his heart shifting through memories of our lives like photographs. His hand moved from being wrapped around my shoulder, down my back to my spine. His touch was soft, just like his words. My palm pressed to his chest in front of my face, my wedding ring captured the amber glow of the candle as it sparkled around the room.
His low rasp sent shivers through me as he repeated the words that meant so much to the two of us that we permanently anchored them to our hearts. “The light will bring to life what shadows keep hidden.”
This exact position was the reason we had gotten these tattoos as it was our favorite place to be. Covered in skin with my head on his chest and his hands wrapped around me was where a love was formed in the shadows and brought to life when we least expected it.
Tears spilled out the corners of my eyes as they did for him too, feeling him, feeling me, feeling us.
There was a way a man held a woman when he was trying to take away the pain. When his heart was breaking right along with hers. It was the kind of shit that drenched your shirt in blubbering snot and took your breath away. It was a hold that spoke volumes and yet said nothing at all. It was a hold that couldn’t be broken by words, time, nothing. It was just a hold.
A hold telling everything but saying nothing.
That next morning, Jameson left for Charlotte for his next test session and exam with NASCAR. Rolling over with a smile, I remembered his touch, the words, the feeling of him moving inside of me. Everything that happened last night felt like the first time again.
Watching the wind softly blow through our room, I noticed his gift to me.
There, on the nightstand beside an iced mocha was a letter. I nearly giggled. It had been years since he wrote me a letter.
Sway,
So many times over the last few months I’ve wanted to ease your pain - tell you that everything was going to be all right - but I didn’t know if it would. I also knew that it wouldn’t change anything if I didn’t feel it.
Watching you sleep now, I’m reminded of what I haven’t considered over that time and what I nearly lost.
You.
I know I’ve been distant and unlike the man you grew to love surrounded by one dream and one lifestyle. Tonight, to feel you, to feel me, and to feel us once again, as one, was like being able to breathe again.
Our love was cultivated in the shadows and at a time that we least expected it and it shines through the darkest of moments, never fading, always triumphing over the heartache we have suffered.
You are the light that pulls the boy in me from anonymity and gives me a true purpose in a life of vulnerability and frustration. I wonder, looking at you in the purest form, if I could have been a better husband or father. I wonder if you know how much I love you and think the world of you.
Without you, all the trophies and titles in the world mean nothing. In the blinding spotlight my life has created, it’s you that brings me back.
Your life is measured in moments. Moments that test you, challenge you, and moments that make you fall to your fucking knees, begging and pleading for all you’re worth for just one more moment.
With you, I don’t want to ever be out of moments. I want to feel my heated cheek against your skin as the word stay is spoken. I want to watch your eyes light up when I vow forever. I want to watch you hold three precious angels. I want to laugh with you, cry with you, and be one with you. Forever one heart and one soul.
I’ll never let you go.
You are where my heart belongs
Jameson