CHAPTER 16
Jorie
“What are you and Walsh doing tonight?” Elena asks me through the phone that I have pressed to my ear. I’m walking around Walsh’s apartment, looking for something constructive to do. His housekeeper is too damn good. There’s not even a speck of dust for me to swipe up.
“Not sure,” I tell her as I saunter into the kitchen. “Maybe I could make dinner for us.”
“That would be sweet. Very homemaker-ish. Wear nothing but a frilly apron so when he walks in, he attacks you.”
I laugh as I open the refrigerator, taking in the fact there’s nothing there but coffee creamer and protein drinks. I shouldn’t have expected more… that’s what his fridge has looked like for the past few weeks since I’ve been staying here.
“Never mind,” I say glumly as I close the refrigerator door. “I’d have to go grocery shopping and that seems like overstepping my bounds a bit.”
“Please, girl,” Elena says dismissively. “He’s fucking your face. You can make a goddamn meatloaf.”
My laugh this time is deep and boob shaking. “God, you crack me up.”
“Anymore from Vince?” she asks. I haven’t seen Elena in three days—not since I went home to do laundry because Walsh doesn’t have a washer and dryer. He uses the hotel laundry service. He offered that to me, but I can’t have strangers pawing through my panties.
“He called me yesterday morning,” I tell her.
“And?”
“And nothing. It was the same stuff. He’s sorry for the things he said, he misses me, he wants me to come home. He doesn’t want me to throw away eight years we filled with a lot of great memories.”
“How does that make you feel?” Elena asks.
“Like I should be laying on your psychiatry couch, Freud,” I tell her dryly as I walk through the kitchen into the living room. I stand before the massive glass wall and look out over Vegas, which isn’t so sparkly at four o’clock in the afternoon.
“Seriously, Jorie,” she presses. “You’re in limbo. You need to shit or get off the pot.”
“I don’t want to get off the metaphorical pot,” I tell her candidly. “I like where I am.”
“It will never be more,” she reminds me of the one thing that plagues my soul. “You’ll always be Walsh’s dirty little secret.”
“That’s harsh,” I whisper.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I just don’t want you to get complacent. Fine… burn off some sex calories, explore all the things he can offer. But do it looking forward to your future. You’re gorgeous, a great catch, and you want a family someday. You’re not going to get that with Walsh.”
“I know,” I say glumly. “But it’s only been a few weeks. I’ve got years ahead of me.”
“You have a husband pushing you to do something.”
“I thought you didn’t like Vince,” I say curiously. She seems to be his champion today.
“I can’t stand Vince,” she says freely. “But he’s right to be making you think about your future.”
“I got a job interview set for tomorrow,” I say as I change the subject and turn away from the window to start my pacing around Walsh’s apartment. I stop in my tracks when I see Walsh standing there just outside the elevator.
Memories of that first night he brought me here play in vivid flashback, and I start walking to him with a little sway in my hips.
“Gotta go,” I tell Elena softly. “Walsh is home.”
“Wait a minute—” she says, but I disconnect the call. She’ll forgive me.
I pocket my phone as I near him, his eyes watching me with dark curiosity.
“You’re home early,” I murmur as I reach him, my hands going to the belt on his dress slacks. As I start to pull it free, I add, “Looks like you had an exhausting day. Let me make it better for you.”
His lips quirk at the lame come on, but he doesn’t stop me as I undo his pants after dropping his belt. And Walsh in no way looks like he had a hard day. He looks as fresh and GQ handsome as he did when he left early this morning.
He’s thick and hard when I pull him free of his briefs, and I drop to my knees with my hand wrapped around his girth. Without hesitation, I take him in my mouth as I look up at him and start to move. I lick and suck, squeezing and stroking him with my hand. I expect him to take over at any moment now, but he just watches me from above with lust on his face.
It’s like that with us always, and I hope to fuck it never changes.
Walsh lets me do my thing. He doesn’t take over, but his hands do come up to gently frame my face. I move on him slowly, savoring every little groan I drag out of this normally stoic man. I flutter my tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, and press my tongue into the slit. My hand moves his balls, and I gently squeeze them as I work his shaft.
And when he comes with a strangled moan, his hands clutching at my hair, I watch in pure enjoyment as the pleasure washes over his face, hardens his jaw, and makes his throat go taut as he strains with release.
Fucking beautiful.
When he pulls out of my mouth, he yanks me up off the ground, bends over, and throws me into a fireman’s carry. He heads straight for the bedroom, and I smile with anticipation.
♦
I collapse on top of Walsh, my heart hammering because that was some intense shit. The normally in control alpha man came home today with the idea in mind to let me play. He let me blow him in slow fashion, and then he put me in a straddle over his waist on the bed, lowering me down slowly onto his cock after he recuperated while he ate me out.
It was perfect. I rode him slowly at first, but then the lust and need took over and I bounced up and down on him with abandonment as I made all kinds of gibberish sounds.
Walsh’s hands come to stroke my lower back gently as we let our systems cool down, our breathing come back to normal, and our hearts to get out of stroke territory.
When he rolls me to my side and faces me, I give him a smile. “You’re home early.”
“It was a slow day at the office,” he says, and I wonder what that means. Did he just make hundreds of thousands of dollars in property deals, or millions? He’s so damn successful, but I don’t really know what that means.
“What do you want to do tonight?” I ask. I don’t tell him I wanted to make him dinner because it smacks of domesticity too much, and I don’t want him to think I’m wanting more.
But God, I want more from him. These last few weeks have taken the fond love I’ve had for this man over the years, mixed it with the deepest intimacy I’ve ever experienced in my life, and intensified it into something that’s beyond description.
Elena was right to push at me, but I’m afraid to move. What I want from Walsh isn’t going to happen according to him. He’s too set on the fact that Micah won’t approve. Of course, I could just approach Micah on the sly and tell him what’s going on. The abbreviated, PG version so he doesn’t want to kill Walsh, but Micah loves me. He wants me to be happy.
If I did that, though, it would break the trust Walsh has in me. We agreed this would be our secret, and Walsh kept the secret of what happened that night to me all these years. I can’t do that to him.
I note that Walsh doesn’t answer me, so I prod him with a sassy grin. “Netflix and chill?”
He smiles back at me, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “How come you didn’t tell me Vince called?”
I’m so stunned by this change of subject that for a moment I can’t figure out how he knows that. Then it hits me… he must have been standing outside that elevator for a few minutes and heard my conversation with Elena.
The answer to his question hits me hard, though, and I gently chastise. “Come on, Walsh… you have to know it’s hard to talk about one man while fucking another.”
I expect him to be ashamed a little, but he pointedly reminds me, “Not if there aren’t strings attached to the one man. Besides, we’re still friends, right?”
“Um… yeah. Sure,” I tell him hesitantly and with a little pain throbbing in the center of my chest. “Yesterday morning, and he’s been texting.”
Walsh studies me for a moment, and I feel like his words are carefully measured when he says, “I don’t want to stand in the way of your marriage.
“You’re not,” I hastily assure him.
My eyes drop to Walsh’s chest and my fingers come up to skim over the hard planes. When I look back up to him, I say, “I need you to let me have this for a while without pressure about Vince. I’m trying to figure myself out, and I’m happy right where I am. I know this is only ‘for now’ and not ‘forever,’ but I’m just not ready to give him a chance. I’m not sure I ever will.”
In fact, if I had to go with my deepest gut instinct, it’s over between me and Vince. I’d like to think I’d fight for my marriage, and Vince was right… we had a lot of great memories. But we have one inherent difference I can’t get over. Forget about the sex issue. He doesn’t want kids, and I’m not sure that will ever change about him. If I had to have one serious talk with Vince about the future of our marriage, it would be about that, and I’m convinced that’s not changed. Every function we’d ever been at together, he always sneered at the little kids, shied away from holding a baby, and mocked his friends who were going through teenager woes. He just doesn’t like kids, and that’s intolerable to me.
Another moment of silence, and then Walsh nods. I pretend not to notice that I think I saw a flicker of relief in his eyes over my words, because that would give me too much hope.
“You have a job interview tomorrow?” he asks.
I nod. “With the local paper in Henderson. It’s still a copyediting position, which I’m not fond of, but it’s a way to make some income while I continue to look around.”
“You’re looking to stay in Henderson?” he asks.
“For now,” I return vaguely. I didn’t dare look for anything in Vegas, because while Walsh has opened his home freely to me, I don’t want it to appear I want or expect more. I know there’s nothing that will scare him off faster.
“I have some contacts with some local media here in Vegas if you want me to reach out,” he says, and this surprises me.
I try not to read too much into it, so I just say, “Thanks. That would be awesome.”
His smile is bigger, and I don’t know what that means either. I take care not to get hopeful, because I have a feeling Walsh could crush me.
Vince hurt me. Shamed me.
But Walsh will destroy me if I don’t keep a tight lock on my heart.
“Let’s order in dinner,” Walsh suggests. “And then watch movies.”
“Netflix and chill,” I say again with a grin.
“You know that means sex, right?” he asks.
I blink at him in confusion. I’d heard the term a lot, and I just thought it meant chilling on the couch and watching movies.
But I’m okay with the sex, too. “Of course, I know that means sex. Duh… what did you think I thought it meant?”
Walsh barks out a laugh and leans forward to give me a hard kiss. It’s one of my favorite things about him… when I amuse him to the point of spontaneous displays of pure affection. Not saying that it’s better than the orgasms he gives me, but it feels damn good.
Rolling over, Walsh snags his phone off the nightstand and does a quick check of his messages. He may be technically out of the office, but the man never stops working.
After a few moments, he turns to look at me with a grim look on his face. “Micah texted a little bit ago. He’s coming to Vegas this weekend to visit.”
“Oh,” I say as conflicted feelings overwhelm me. I’m beyond excited to see my brother. We visited each other regularly when I was in L.A. and he was in San Francisco. But it’s been a few months and I would love to see him.
On the other hand, that means Walsh and I will have to cool it with each other, and that just plain sucks. We’ll also have to pretend and put on an act, and that sucks as well. The secret Walsh and I kept about the night I was attacked was easy. This is going to be much harder.
“I’m going to need you to go back to Elena’s for the weekend,” he says, and I hate the slightly icy tone in his voice.
“Yeah, absolutely,” I say quietly. “Not a problem.”
Walsh’s expression softens, and he pulls me too him. “It’s just for a weekend, okay?”
“Of course,” I say with a cheery smile that strains my cheek muscles to make it. “It’s totally fine.”