mourning the loss of a relationship, the loss of a future, the loss of a life I thought I had, and the companionship of a partner. But am I mourning Jim?
"Yeah. I think so," I say. "I mean, I'm still dealing with the betrayal. And the fact that the man I married, the man I thought I loved, doesn't exist. It was all a lie. I don't even know how to process those years of my life anymore. Moments I thought made me happy…? Nothing but lies."
I don't realize I'm crying until Trey wipes the tears from my cheeks. His lips press tenderly against mine. "This isn't a lie," he says. "Or this." He moves to the other side of my mouth. "Or this." His kiss caresses my cheek.
It's the perfect escape from my self-induced pity party, one I'm ready to take full advantage of. I'm ready to get back to the touching and kissing and away from the gut spilling.
I lean into him, arching my back and giving him full access to the side of my neck. Which he takes. His stubble feels divine as it brushes roughly against my skin. His lips are molten heat. I'm ready to melt into it. Ready to be transformed from the lead bar I've been for the last several months into a razor-sharp sword meant to conquer the world.
Okay, maybe not the world, but at least my insecurity.
Pushing Trey back, I tuck my feet under my butt and reach across him and retrieve a wipe from the container. "I think it's your turn now," I say, feeling suddenly bold, fearless. It's like the burden of the last several months has been lifted. So Jim cheated on me with a woman twelve years my junior. So he got her pregnant when I never will be. I'm here with this gorgeous, amazing specimen of a man. A man better looking and more caring than Jim could ever be—and with a six-pack Jim never had.
And I feel more alive than I have in years. The heat Trey creates inside me is more intense than anything I've ever experienced.
Jim didn't break me. I'm still here and I'm very much intact.
With a grin I can tell is too eager and wide, I sit back on my heels, waving the wet wipe like a white flag. "Ready?"
He tosses the wipe in his hand into the bedside trashcan and then drops back onto his palms, elbows locked. His head resting on massive shoulders, he spies me from under half-lidded eyes. "Go for it." He closes his eyes and…waits.
And suddenly I'm reminded he is pure sex-on-a-stick.
I swallow any lingering self-consciousness. Fuck Jim. Fuck the insecurity he created in me. Trey has never once indicated he finds me anything but interesting and desirable. And I have never denied that he is anything but.
I have to perch on my knees to reach his face, but once there I wobble unsteadily. I place a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. It's like gripping a cantaloupe and definitely as firm.
He tips his face toward my hand as I delicately drag the wipe across his strong brow. His chest heaves and I swear he sighs. It adds to my sudden reclamation of confidence.
"Sometimes I wonder if the whole Jim fiasco would have been easier if the woman he decided to knock up was, well, over thirty." I pull the wipe delicately over his defined nose. "But then I realized I can't compete with a college girl. Someone closer to my age would have been worse. Then there'd be something wrong with me besides just being old."
He cracks an eye to look at me. "You aren't old. Besides, there's nothing wrong with aging. You do realize the alternative is death."
I laugh. "I know. It doesn't make it any easier though." I trace the line of his jaw, the stubble snagging the wipe as I go. "And it's different for you."
"How so?"
"When men age, they become more desirable, I mean how many sexiest men alive have been over 30, or even 40?"
"Possibly, but in this line of work I fight the clock every day. When you're the hired gun, brawn over brains is highly desirable. No one wants their safety entrusted to a geezer."
"I think you have a ways to go before you reach geezerdom," I tell him. "And a hell of a lot longer
"Yeah. I think so," I say. "I mean, I'm still dealing with the betrayal. And the fact that the man I married, the man I thought I loved, doesn't exist. It was all a lie. I don't even know how to process those years of my life anymore. Moments I thought made me happy…? Nothing but lies."
I don't realize I'm crying until Trey wipes the tears from my cheeks. His lips press tenderly against mine. "This isn't a lie," he says. "Or this." He moves to the other side of my mouth. "Or this." His kiss caresses my cheek.
It's the perfect escape from my self-induced pity party, one I'm ready to take full advantage of. I'm ready to get back to the touching and kissing and away from the gut spilling.
I lean into him, arching my back and giving him full access to the side of my neck. Which he takes. His stubble feels divine as it brushes roughly against my skin. His lips are molten heat. I'm ready to melt into it. Ready to be transformed from the lead bar I've been for the last several months into a razor-sharp sword meant to conquer the world.
Okay, maybe not the world, but at least my insecurity.
Pushing Trey back, I tuck my feet under my butt and reach across him and retrieve a wipe from the container. "I think it's your turn now," I say, feeling suddenly bold, fearless. It's like the burden of the last several months has been lifted. So Jim cheated on me with a woman twelve years my junior. So he got her pregnant when I never will be. I'm here with this gorgeous, amazing specimen of a man. A man better looking and more caring than Jim could ever be—and with a six-pack Jim never had.
And I feel more alive than I have in years. The heat Trey creates inside me is more intense than anything I've ever experienced.
Jim didn't break me. I'm still here and I'm very much intact.
With a grin I can tell is too eager and wide, I sit back on my heels, waving the wet wipe like a white flag. "Ready?"
He tosses the wipe in his hand into the bedside trashcan and then drops back onto his palms, elbows locked. His head resting on massive shoulders, he spies me from under half-lidded eyes. "Go for it." He closes his eyes and…waits.
And suddenly I'm reminded he is pure sex-on-a-stick.
I swallow any lingering self-consciousness. Fuck Jim. Fuck the insecurity he created in me. Trey has never once indicated he finds me anything but interesting and desirable. And I have never denied that he is anything but.
I have to perch on my knees to reach his face, but once there I wobble unsteadily. I place a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. It's like gripping a cantaloupe and definitely as firm.
He tips his face toward my hand as I delicately drag the wipe across his strong brow. His chest heaves and I swear he sighs. It adds to my sudden reclamation of confidence.
"Sometimes I wonder if the whole Jim fiasco would have been easier if the woman he decided to knock up was, well, over thirty." I pull the wipe delicately over his defined nose. "But then I realized I can't compete with a college girl. Someone closer to my age would have been worse. Then there'd be something wrong with me besides just being old."
He cracks an eye to look at me. "You aren't old. Besides, there's nothing wrong with aging. You do realize the alternative is death."
I laugh. "I know. It doesn't make it any easier though." I trace the line of his jaw, the stubble snagging the wipe as I go. "And it's different for you."
"How so?"
"When men age, they become more desirable, I mean how many sexiest men alive have been over 30, or even 40?"
"Possibly, but in this line of work I fight the clock every day. When you're the hired gun, brawn over brains is highly desirable. No one wants their safety entrusted to a geezer."
"I think you have a ways to go before you reach geezerdom," I tell him. "And a hell of a lot longer
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