“Motherf—” he chokes, jolting forward on unsteady legs, his hold of my boobs becoming brutal. I wince but battle through the slight discomfort, shooting back and forth at an epic rate. “Shit…Annie…”
My tongue circles his tip as my fist continues to work him, and then when I sense he’s close, I swathe the top third of his cock and suck. It’s his undoing. A flow of curses comes thick and fast, and plenty of verbal warnings, too. I take him all, feeling him come in long, surging pulses, his essence pouring into my mouth.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he puffs, grinding his groin against my mouth, trying to catch a breath. Pulling free and falling toward me, he flattens me on the bed with his heavy, sweaty body. I smile, satisfied, and swallow. “You are fucking amazing,” he pants, a dead weight spread all over me.
“And now I really need that coffee.”
He laughs and struggles to push himself up onto his elbows until he has my face in his sights. I blank out the blemish on his cheekbone and give him a dazzling smile, feeling rather pleased with myself. “I’m booking in one of those for every day of the rest of our lives together.”
“It’ll cost ya,” I warn.
“Name your price, baby.”
His serious demand gives me pause. I was being playful. I had nothing in mind specifically. “Can I think about it?”
“Yes, but you only have until tomorrow.” He dips and kisses my forehead, and then rolls onto his back.
I’m straight up on my elbows, looking at him lying beside me. “What’s happening tomorrow?” Has he decided tomorrow is the day he’ll tell Stephanie it’s over? Once again, I’m breaking out in a sweat, and it has nothing to do with the effort I just put into giving Jack head.
His head falls to the side. “You’re giving me another one of those.” He points at his semi-erect cock, then to my mouth.
I calm a little, falling to my back next to him. It’s only a little, because one thing we haven’t talked about is when he plans on telling her. I need to know. I need to be prepared…and possibly out of the country. I didn’t want to ask, and I planned never to, but all of these mild heart attacks I keep having aren’t good for me. “Jack, I’m not asking to put pressure on you, but can you give me some kind of indication as to when you plan on…” My question rolls to a stop. I don’t know why I can’t finish.
“I tried this morning before her parents picked her up.” He shakes his head as he glances away. “But every time I went to say the words…it’s like she knows what’s coming and gives me crazy eyes to remind me of what I can expect.”
“You sure she knows?” I ask. Maybe he’s wrong. I can’t figure out if it’s better for her to be expecting it or not.
“Oh, she knows. In bed last night she—”
“Whoa!” I half-laugh, half-gape at him, not quite believing those words just came out of his mouth.
He drops his head to the side and gazes at my disbelieving face, taking my hand and squeezing. “Just listen,” he orders softly, so I brace myself, breathing in deeply and wincing in advance. “I got in the spare bed last night, for obvious reasons.” He clenches his eyes shut, and his body definitely shudders. “She climbed in with me in the middle of the night. I pushed her away, Annie.” Jack points to the blemish on his cheekbone. “She knows.” I see all kinds of emotions in his grays, and definitely a bit of guilt. And he must see the fear in mine, because he rushes on. “She won’t make me stay. I promise you.”
I fall quiet for a moment, thinking. He needs to get out. He needs to get out now, and he would need to even if I wasn’t in his life. This is fucked up on so many levels. “Will you tell her about me?” I ask, biting my lip nervously.
“God, no.” He shakes his head vehemently. “No. I want to keep you as far away from it as possible, which will be fucking hard when I know I’ll need you close.”
He wants me out of the firing line. He wants to protect me from the repercussions. But really, things will be no different. We’ll still need to sneak around because no one can know about us, which leads me to another question. Yet I don’t voice it. How long will it be before we can just…be? What’s an acceptable period of time for someone to move on? What’s an acceptable period of time for a woman to start seeing a man who’s recently left his wife? Months? Years?
I fold on the inside a little, wondering how long I have to wait until I can say Jack is mine. Just mine. Some of him was better than nothing of him. I couldn’t walk away. Still can’t. My only out isn’t really an out at all. It feels more like a punishment. When Jack leaves her, people will see the state of Stephanie, because there’s no doubt she’ll be spiraling downward. They will judge Jack and if they find out about me, they will judge me, too.
“Annie?” Jack’s anxious call of my name pulls my eyes from the ceiling to him. His face is worried as he squeezes my hand. Threading his fingers through mine, he holds on tight, as if he senses my despondent thoughts and he’s worried I might up and leave.
“If anyone finds out about us, they’ll blame me,” I murmur, looking back up to the ceiling. “To them, I’ll be the cause of a woman’s devastation and heartache, and I kind of am, Jack. No matter how you look at this situation. I feel like karma is going to plague me for the rest of my life.”
“Hey,” Jack rolls into me, lying on his side beside me while I remain flat on my back, looking at my bedroom ceiling. “You are not the cause, Annie. You are a symptom, that’s all.”
I laugh lightly. “Come on, Jack. How many people do you honestly think will accept that? It’s a crock of shit. If you hadn’t found me at the bar that night, you would have remained in your marriage, happy or not. Right now, I am part of the reason. That’s the crux of it. I’m not going to kid myself that others won’t see it the same way if they find out about us.”