Chapter 40
Colby
During the slow walk on my crutches with Lydia to Josh’s office in the back of the gym, I formulate the right words to confess all my sins to Lydia. I plan to tell her I peeked at her photos and saw picture after picture of Darren on her phone. That I saw the shots she pilfered from my parents’ house. That I’ve finally seen the scrawled message I wrote to her on the white board... and that seeing it made me realize the undeniable truth of my written words.
But even as I craft my little speech in my head, I know I won’t say a word of it to her. Not today, anyway. Not when I’ve seen the immortal Darren Decker on her phone and I now understand why she can’t fuck me without crying.
Of course, I understand intellectually that Lydia will always love her dead husband. That’s not a difficult concept for me to get. But in this one-of-a-kind fucked up moment, after spending the day with Lydia and her kids and realizing I truly could love them all if given the chance, after finally getting to see what I wrote to Lydia on that white board intermingled with evidence of Lydia’s powerful love for another man, I’m not thinking with my intellect. I’m thinking with my big swinging dick. My need. My heart. My jealousy.
I want her.
I need her.
I’ve got to have her.
And I don’t want to share.
I’ve got no right to feel this way and I know it. To feel this way is to be an asshole and a caveman and an idiot. But it’s honestly how I feel in this moment. Whether I want it to or not, in this moment, jealousy is consuming me like a pyre.
Lydia and I reach Josh’s office.
“After you,” I say, and she steps into the small room ahead of me. I close and lock the door behind us, turn around, and then throw my crutches to the ground like a madman, pull her to me, and kiss the living hell out of her.
A flurry of greed and want and desperate need overtakes me. I’ve got her shirt and bra off. She’s got my T-shirt up and my jeans unbuttoned. I bend down to suck on her nipple and almost lose my balance, thanks to my precarious one-legged stance, and she expresses concern.
“Get on the desk,” I command in a voice that isn’t my own. A voice that belongs to an asshole.
Lydia complies, no questions asked. She’s breathing with a hiss—the air passing through her clenched teeth laced with ardent desire.
I limp and hop my way the short distance to a nearby rolling chair, glide up to where she’s sitting on the edge of the desk, yank her pants and undies off, pull her naked hips into my hungry mouth, and begin eating her out like a starving man. I slide two fingers straight to her G-spot while devouring her clit with my tongue and lips and, within a minute, she’s ferociously arching her back and shoving herself into me.
“Say you want me,” I bark out.
“I want you,” she grits out. “Oh, God. Colby.”
The sound of my name coming out of Lydia’s mouth with such desperation makes my balls tighten and wetness drip from my tip. Still working her G-spot, I get up from my chair, bend over her, and suck her peaked nipple hard—brutally enough to make her whimper.
“I want to hear you say my name as you come,” I say. “Come for me, Lydia. Say my name and come.”
She whimpers again. Groans, growls, and throws her head back. Finally, she arches her back sharply, stiffens, and comes hard, my name on her lips... and then, fuck my life, she immediately bursts into tears.
I stand over Lydia for a half-minute, watching her writhe and twitch in simultaneous ecstasy and torment—and much to my shock, my instinct in this moment isn’t to comfort her. It’s to pound him out of her heart. But I can’t take her the way I want to do it. Not with my traitorous left leg, I can’t. So I push my unbuttoned jeans down, collapse onto the rolling chair with my dick sticking straight up, and command her to sit on my cock. “I want you to look into my eyes as you fuck me,” I seethe, my tone as hard as my dick. “I want you to know it’s me who’s making you feel so fucking good.”
Lydia doesn’t hesitate. She clambers off the desktop and straddles me in the chair. With a loud moan, she slams her hot, swollen pussy down onto me with such ease, it feels like she’s been greased, and we both groan with relief and pleasure as my body burrows deep inside hers.
“Look at me,” I command, holding her chin, and her glistening hazel eyes lock onto mine as she gyrates on top of me.
I grab her hips and guide her gyrations on top of me and she throws her head back and growls.
“No,” I choke out, grabbing her chin again. “Look at me, Lydia. Look into my eyes, say my name, and come.”
“I can’t,” she chokes out. She clamps her eyes shut and tears squirt down her smooth cheeks.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” I grit out as I fuck her.
She opens her gorgeous eyes and I grab the back of her head and firmly hold her gaze in place.
“Look me in the eyes, say my name, and come for me now.”
Lydia shudders and moans.
I’ve never felt desperate like this before. I want to devour her. Ingest her. Take her into my bloodstream and keep her there. Lock her away in a tower and chain her to a cot. I’m a fucking beast, not the prince. I’m not the hero of this story. I’m the villain. “Lydia,” I say, choking back my rising panic. “I’m all-in, baby. Don’t you understand?” I suddenly feel desperate. Terrified I’m going to lose the only woman I’ve ever genuinely wanted. The only woman in the world who’s ever set my soul on fire. I can’t lose her. I have to make her mine. All of a sudden, a lightning bolt of greed hits me. Fuck him. She’s mine. Lydia’s husband might own her heart, her past, her children, her dreams. Maybe her very soul. But I own her body like that fucker never did.
“Let go, Lydia,” I growl. “Say my name and come for me right fucking now.”
“Colby,” she chokes out, her glistening eyes fixed on mine.
I grip the back of her head with one hand and guide her movement with the other. “You’re going to come for me now, Lydia.”
She whimpers. And then whimpers again, even more loudly. “Oh, God, Colby,” she chokes out, her voice ragged. “I’ve never felt... Oh, God. Colby.”
Time stops ever so briefly... and then Lydia’s muscles begin clenching and unclenching around my cock so forcefully, I can’t hang on through it. With a loud moan, I explode into her with the most intense orgasm of my life.
Finally, when my body quiets down, I open my eyes and gaze at Lydia’s beautiful face. She looks drunk. Like a woman who’s just experienced intense sexual satisfaction. But her wet cheeks tell me she’s a woman who feels guilty as hell about her pleasure.
Fuck!
I pass my thumb over her tear-streaked cheek, my heart throbbing even more than my bum leg. “Lydia.”
She leans forward and puts her forehead on my shoulder. “I’m only crying because it felt so good.”
I pull away, suddenly pissed. “No. Fuck that shit, Lydia. Do me a favor and respect me enough not to lie to me anymore, okay? You’ve lied to me enough. From here on out, you tell me the truth and nothing else, even if the truth hurts. No lies. No half-truths. And absolutely no more secrets.”
The shocked look on her face makes me ashamed of the harsh tone I’ve used with her.
Sighing, I wrap her in my arms. My heart physically hurts. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m losing my mind. Please forgive me.”
“No, it’s me who’s sorry,” she whispers.
I hold her for a long moment and finally say, “My instincts were right the other day at my parents’ house. We should have stuck with the game plan. I convinced myself I could fix you with my magic dick, but, obviously, I can’t. You’re trapped, Lydia. You’re trapped in a burning building and I don’t know how to get you out.”
Lydia pulls back from our embrace, her face awash in apology. “I want you, Colby. I honestly do.”
“You think you do. But you’re clearly not ready for this.”
“I do want you,” she insists. “Every bit as much as you want me.”
I exhale a long, dejected breath. “I’m not sure when you say that you understand quite how much I want you.”
Lydia opens and closes her mouth. And then hangs her head.
I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from losing it. Oh, God, the torment of this situation is almost too much for me to bear. “This was a mistake,” I finally whisper, though it pains me to say it. “We need to go back to the original game plan and stick to it. You need to get some therapy from someone who knows what they’re doing and I need to get my old body back so I stop feeling like an insecure little bitch about stuff I have no business feeling insecure about. And then we’ll try this again.”
Her head still bowed, she nods.
“And in the meantime, you’ve got to show me everything I’ve been missing out on, Lydia. The real you, including your kids. When we finally reach the finish line of my physical therapy and I’m no longer off-limits to you, I want both of us to be ready to hit the ground running. At the very least, I want you to be able to fuck me without bursting into tears.”
She raises her head and puts her forehead against mine. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I truly thought I was ready for this.”
I’m trembling. I feel like my heart is physically breaking inside my chest. “I’m sorry, too,” I whisper. “I feel like an insensitive dick for saying this, but the truth is I’m not the kind of man who can be any woman’s consolation prize. I respect the life and love you shared with your husband. I really do. But if it turns out you’re not capable of giving your heart to me as totally and completely as you gave it to him—if you’re never going to be able to do that—then...” I trail off. There’s no honest way for me to end that sentence. I don’t even know why I started it. In truth, there’s no circumstance under which I wouldn’t continue pursuing Lydia—no pain that would stop me from fighting tooth and nail to make her mine.
“Then what?” Lydia prompts when it’s clear I’m not feeling the urge to finish my sentence.
But I’m feeling too emotional to speak.
“Colby, then what?” she whispers. “Please, tell me.”
I swallow hard and put my palm on her cheek. “Then nothing.” I let out a shaky breath, my eyes locked onto hers. “Then you’re just going to break my fucking heart.”