Chapter 18
School is even more of a nightmare now, thanks to the sleep deprivation over the last five weeks that rivals Lainey’s newborn sleep habits. No matter how many warm, aromatherapy Epsom salt baths I take and all the other things I’ve tried to wear myself out, I just can’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep alone in my bed.
With James’s help, I’ve passed all of my history tests, even with the unfair point deductions Mr. Heart keeps giving me, and have since kept my grade up. But that’s the only class I’ve kept up. I’m starting to fall behind in all my other classes, which leads to worry about my graduating GPA twisting my stomach.
James doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping much, either, and I wonder if it’s affecting his work as much as it does my schooling.
Mom can tell something’s wrong, and she fusses over me when I’m home as much as she does Brady. I reiterate that I’m simply tired but never expand on the reason why I’m so tired. I can’t tell her about James, about how I cry every night after I force myself to say goodnight to him and come home, which doesn’t even feel like home anymore.
I don’t know how it all happened so quickly, falling so searingly hard for James, but it did. Those three nights spent in bed with him have ruined me for everything else, and I cling to the desperate hope that everything will eventually go back to normal—and soon. It has to at some point, right?
Thankfully, Dad has been in and out of town speaking at various conferences for work, so the dinner Mom wants to plan with James keeps getting pushed back. Dad has a sharp eye, and since my parents already have concerns regarding how much time I spend with James, Dad would have his eyes trained on us like a hawk. I don’t know how I would hide my longing for James—and a good night’s sleep in his bed—from either of them.
Because that’s what this is. Longing. For him to touch me. For more than the hugs that linger each night. For more than the small, hesitant kisses on the cheek or at the corner of my lips. For more than his hands slowly sliding up my back or down to my hips when we’re standing near each other.
James has since given me a few more lessons on coding and programming at night after we put the babies to bed. I think it’s his way of keeping me from going home for as long as possible, but I appreciate it all the same. He knows how important planning my future is to me, and the more I learn, the more excited I get about narrowing my major down. With graduation just around the corner, it’s more important than ever that I focus on school and finishing strong.
But it’s increasingly, upsettingly, more difficult to concentrate. Not only because of how tired I’ve been but also because I’ll never be able to look at his gaming chair the same way. Scenes from the first time we were intimate flash through my mind every time he leads me into his office. The way I was so nervous at first, but also how my heart pounded with excitement when I first unclipped my top and gave myself to him. The way I slowly rocked my hips over his bulge as he suckled my breast…
We circle each other, heated gazes that I must break lest I give in and do something I regret. Hands that I have to snatch back to my sides when they begin to drift up under his shirt or down between us when we hug. I’m trying so hard to stay in control of my wants, my desires, and it’s taking its toll, physically and mentally.
Though it’s the end of the school week, and I normally would look forward to sleeping in an extra hour or two if Lainey lets me, I know that won’t happen anytime soon. I’m getting closer and closer to reaching my breaking point.
I can’t let myself give in, though. Not if I want to stick to the plan I have mapped out for my future, for Lainey’s future. I’ll get through this, I remind myself for the thousandth time. We’ll both get through this and move on with our lives, as much as it pains me to imagine that.
James had asked me last weekend if I would help him tomorrow with setting up and hosting his first game night since he took guardianship of Grayson now that all of their schedules have aligned. I jumped at the chance because it meant I’d finally get to meet his friends. It also gives me the excuse to stay as late as he needs me to in case Grayson wakes up so he can hang out with his friends uninterrupted.
But now I’m dead on my feet, knowing that won’t make a great first impression. I mean, what are they going to think of me, the strange girl unable to keep her thoughts straight and sentences coherent? I’ll more than likely end up embarrassing myself by crying at some point before I end up nodding off on James’s couch, as I have done more than once recently.
Something’s got to give.
I don’t bother uselessly trying to hold back my tears as I pick up Lainey’s toys and stuff them in her diaper bag more aggressively than necessary before we leave for the night. I accidentally fumble with Lainey’s prized blocks, dropping one onto my big toe, and I cry even harder. It didn’t even hurt, and it’s so ridiculously silly, but it’s just one more crappy thing on top of the long list of crappy things since that horrible night I broke whatever it was kindling between me and James.
And that’s how he finds me—crying into my hands as I lean against the front door, trying to build up the energy and resolve to put my shoes on and get Lainey from the nursery so we can head home.
“Shayla? What’s wrong?”
I sense his body heat behind me before his warm hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and there’s no resisting the urgent need to turn and throw my arms around his neck and cling to him with all of my strength. He skates his large palm down my back and cradles the back of my head with the other. I cry into his shoulder as I tighten my arms until I’m standing on just the tips of my toes, pressing myself closer to him.
“I can’t do it,” I manage to choke out.
He winds and tightens both arms around my back, where I wish they could stay forever. “Can’t do what, angel?”
“Can’t make myself go home. Can’t sleep alone again. But I have to.” The last part comes out as a whine, and I could just kick myself for how immature and pathetic I sound.
James slips one of his hands lower, stopping at the waistband of the soft, white bike shorts he gifted me when the temperatures outside started to climb. He turns his face to mine, brushes a kiss against the shell of my ear, and whispers with a husky voice, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, I do,” I whine again.
“You can sleep in my room, and I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says in compromise, though I know that’s only partially what he wants, what either of us wants.
I shake my head, brushing my lips against the smooth column of his neck. I place a small kiss over his pulse point, practically salivating for the taste of him, but whisper, “I can’t.”
James flexes his fingertips on my back, then drops his hands to his sides. I cry out and cling to him tighter, pulling myself up with a strength I didn’t know I possessed, wrapping my legs around his narrow waist. He doesn’t hesitate to support my weight with his hands gripping the backs of my thighs. I moan when his dick swells and hardens under my ass, and I can’t control myself. I rub my ass over his bulge and tighten my legs.
“Fuck, angel, you’re killing me. Tell me what you want me to do. Because part of me wants to respect your wishes and tell you to go home. But the bigger part of me, the selfish part, wants to take you to my bed. And if I do that, I won’t be able to let you go.”
My heart is pounding out of my chest at the thought of what he might do to me, the pleasure he would give me if I let him take me to his bed, and how peacefully I would sleep all night long once he was through with me.
“Oh god, James. I-I can’t.” That’s what I say, but I roll my hips, feeling his erection swell even thicker. Longer. And I moan into the crook of his neck. I’ve missed him, missed this, so much.
He groans and slides his hands to my ass, squeezing it once, then pulls my cheeks apart slightly like I want him to spread my pussy, sans the shorts that are frustratingly in the way. He stumbles over Lainey’s blocks and slams my back against the front door. Even that makes me moan.
I tip my head back enough to see his eyes, and the same intense lust and longing I have for him is reflected right back at me. Lust, but also pain and confusion.
“Tell me. Tell me what to do, angel.” He adjusts my weight, and now his bulge is pressed between us, right against my core. He jerks his hips, sliding that bulge hidden behind the zipper of his jeans up and down, creating the delicious friction I have been craving for five long weeks.
“Oh god, I don’t know!”
He goes still, holding himself pressed against me for a few beats, and then he groans and wrenches his hips back. He’s breathing hard as he sets me down on my feet and slowly pulls my arms from around his neck.
“Ok. We’ll stop. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do,” James says with pain twisting his features.
I roll my lips and bite them as more tears well up behind my eyes. Reckless desperation for this man wells up right along with them. I can’t leave. I don’t have the energy or willpower to force myself to do it. Not anymore. I vibrate with the need to touch him.
I can’t take it any longer, and I make a snap decision that instantly floods my body and mind with relief. “No sex,” I whisper.
“What?” His blue irises are swallowed by his pupils as they blow wide when he meets my hooded gaze. His hands clench and unclench at his sides.
“I want you to take me to bed, James.” I infuse my voice with all of the pent-up lust I’ve been holding back these dreadful weeks. “We can’t have sex, but everything else…”
I don’t have time to draw my next breath or finish what I was going to say before his lips crash into mine as he picks me up, and I automatically wrap my legs around his waist again. I have to physically jerk my head back to fill my lungs with air before my lips are right back on his as he practically runs down the hall to his bedroom. He flips the switch to turn on the lamps and throws me on my back in the middle of his bed in a matter of seconds. Our lips move hungrily, frantically, over each other when he climbs on top of me.
It feels like coming home.
My true home.