Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mick
I hoped Jules and I had left distrust behind when we got our matching tattoos. But it’s back. She’s seen straight through my lies and I only have myself to blame because there shouldn’t be any secrets between us. I need to tell her about Melissa and Ashley. About my silent vow to Davo. About the gnawing ache of guilt that keeps me awake at night.
So, what’s stopping me?
Loosening my tie, I stumble towards the bedroom. I was a ghost going through the motions after Davo’s death—feeling nothing, wanting nothing, giving nothing. I shudder to think where I would have ended up if I hadn’t seen that newspaper article with Jules’ and Riley’s photo. It was the jolt back to the land of the living I desperately needed. I was a father. With the only woman who had ever made me question my life choices. I wouldn’t fail her and my daughter like I’d failed my best friend. So, I gave the shrinks and their mind-fucking the flick. Quit the booze and drugs. Then got my first haircut in twelve months.
Perching on the bed, I pull up a photo of me and Davo. The same one Melissa has on her wall .
“What are you looking at?” Jules stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable.
I lower the mobile to my lap. “Nothing.”
She arches an eyebrow, her lips twisting. “You’re staring at nothing pretty hard there.”
A steel band wraps around my chest. It’s an automatic response sharpened by years of protecting the secrets I’ve locked away. But Jules deserves a better answer than that. It’s time, past time, to tell her about the nightmare that keeps me awake at night. At least, some of it. I hand her my phone. “A picture of me and a friend.”
She squints at the photo. “Who?”
“Dave Stephenson. Davo.” My throat closes up. I swallow to make space. “We were best mates when I worked for the police.”
She crosses her arms and tilts her head, a furrow deepening between her brows as she no doubt wonders why I’ve said nothing all these years. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”
“No.” I rub my palms along my thighs. Take a deep breath. “He would have been thirty-nine today if he hadn’t been killed on the job.”
Her stance relaxes, and her arms drop to her sides. “Oh, no. That’s awful.”
Tell her. Tell her.
Now’s the time to come clean about Melissa, but it’s as though my throat refuses, collapsing in on itself and making it almost impossible to breathe, let alone talk. Lies are easier. I sat in the park for hours thinking about Davo. About my promises to him. The ones I broke. Some best friend I turned out to be.
“I just needed space to think. To remember. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
Jules sinks onto the bed next to me. “If he was a good friend, why haven’t you told me about him before? ”
“I couldn’t. It hurt too much.” And that’s the truth. Seeing Melissa’s grief is torture enough. And when he isn’t pouting, Ashley’s the spitting image of his dad. It tears me apart to watch him lose his way. A stark reminder I’ve let Davo down.
“Is this why you hate talking about your time at the police?”
“Yeah. It’s easier to pretend that part of my life never happened.”
“Oh, Mick.” She presses my head to her chest and glides her fingers through my hair in a comforting gesture I don’t deserve. “You should have told me. I could have helped you.”
No one can help me.
My eyelashes flutter as Jules massages my head. Her touch is healing, and while I know she doesn’t mean it sexually, my body responds to the softness of her breasts against my cheek, the faint whiff of her spicy perfume. I raise my head, confession on the tip of my tongue as my throat relaxes, but Jules places a finger on my lips.
“You don’t have to say anything. Let me make you feel better.” Her tongue sweeps across her lush bottom lip, slow and seductive.
I should tell her everything, but a bolt of lust slams into me, rendering me mute. Five years of marriage and this woman still has the power to bring me to my knees with one look. One touch.
“Riley,” I croak.
Jules kisses my cheek, then slides off the bed and locks the door. “She’s obsessed with finishing her jigsaw. We’ll just have to make it quick.”
She wastes no time, tearing off her blouse and bra, those heavy, perfect breasts bouncing against her chest. Next are her jeans and underwear. I’m paralysed at the expanse of smooth, tanned flesh. My tongue hangs from my mouth, and lethargy invades my limbs. But my dick does the opposite, swelling to steel .
Jules, completely unphased by her nakedness, juts her right hip out and cocks an eyebrow. “Do I have to do all the work?”
My scrambled brain reconnects with my body, and I lunge for her. She turns as if to escape me, but I circle her waist and pin her against the wall. We both freeze at the thump of flesh against wood, Jules’ wide eyes mirroring mine. One second, two … I hold my breath as I wait to see if Riley knocks on our door. After several more seconds, we both sigh. That was close.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“Of course I am. Now hurry up, we haven’t got all night.” She bites the side of my neck. Hard.
I flinch. “It’s going to be like that, is it?”
She licks her lips. “A little physical pain will ease the sadness. At least for a while.”
She wouldn’t be so keen to help me forget if she knew everything I’ve been withholding. But the fire in my wife’s expression and the sparks zapping between us are impossible to ignore. There’s plenty of time for the truth later. After all, it’s been seven years since Davo died. What’s a few more hours or days?
I shove Jules harder against the wall and slap my hand over her mouth. “Not a sound.”
Her response is to thrust her hips against mine. My cock weeps at the friction. I turn her around so she’s facing away from me and kick her legs wider. She gets the hint and braces herself, presenting that delicious arse and pussy for duty.
“Don’t move.” I flip the button on my trousers and yank the zipper down. I’m wearing jocks with a ready-made opening in the front—a birthday present from Jules two years ago. My cock eagerly protrudes. I position it at her entrance. She whimpers, making me even harder. I adore it when she submits. Given how strong she is, it means everything that she trusts me like this .
And there goes the churning in my gut. She shouldn’t trust me. I’m a liar.
But there’s no denying the chemistry between us. I lick the shell of her ear. “I love you.”
She twists her neck to make eye contact. “I love you too, Mick, but if you don’t fuck me now, I’ll scream and leave it to you to explain to Riley.”
I nip her earlobe. “You wouldn’t dare, so stop with the threats.”
I plunge into her. Jules grunts at the invasion, but her pussy is slippery and accepts me with practised ease. I hold still and let her catch her breath. She’s having none of it, shoving against me. I grip one hip so she doesn’t smash against the wall and slap a hand over her mouth.
Jules’ soft, muffled cries fuel the fire in my groin. I scrape her neck with my teeth and surge in and out, setting up a punishing rhythm, my balls slapping against her arse. My mind empties of everything except the woman in my arms, our muted grunts and moans and the musky scent of sex.
I remove my hand from Jules’ mouth and slip it between her legs. Her clit is slippery from her juices and swollen from the friction. She’s almost there too. I flick the engorged flesh, and she shoves that succulent behind harder against me. Her breathing hitches, and her pussy clamps down on my dick with such force that cum explodes from me and red dots dance at the edges of my vision.
Wave after wave of burning pleasure envelops us, and for a few seconds … minutes, all the pain and regret of the past vanish.
Our breaths echo in the bedroom’s silence, and my heart jack hammers in my chest as if I’ve run a marathon. Jules turns her head, and our mouths lock in a languid dance of tongues. She tastes like all things hot and spicy. Warm and forgiving. My softening cock twitches, wanting another round, but it’s too risky .
As if on cue, the doorknob rattles. “Mummy, Daddy.”
I raise my head, reluctantly releasing Jules’ lips. Words are stuck in my throat yet again, only this time, pleasure has rendered me mute. Jules opens her mouth. I clamp my hand across it before she can speak.
“Mummy’s in the shower. Give me a moment,” I say.
Jules glares at me. I smack her boob. “You heard me,” I murmur.
“What’s that noise, Daddy? What are you doing?”
Jules silently chuckles, then hits me with a swift, hard kiss and saunters into the ensuite. My cock perks up a little at the jiggle of her arse. Witch!
I adjust myself back into my pants and zip up my trousers.
“Coming, sweetie,” I call through the door.
I take a couple of breaths to calm my racing heart. This is why I’ve been able to contain my demons for seven years. Jules keeps me grounded in the present, in love.
It’s after nine by the time we eat dinner, clean up and put Riley to bed. I brush my teeth, my body humming with anticipation. Jules has been giving me secret glances all night. If I’ve read the signals right, she wants to pick up where we left off earlier. And I’m fully on board with it. Telling her about Melissa and Ashley can wait until tomorrow.
“What are you still doing in here?”
I look in the mirror to see my sexy wife leaning against the ensuite doorway in a red, sheer baby doll nightie and nothing else.
Blood rushes to my groin. She hasn’t worn that outfit in years. “You look good enough to eat.”
Her gaze drifts over my bare chest, my skin sizzling as if she’s touched it with her fingertips. One eyebrow lifts when she reaches my pyjamas bottoms and the tent I’m now sporting. “And you’re wearing too many clothes.”
I push away from the sink and advance on her. Jules squeals and pivots, running into the bedroom. I prowl after her. She throws herself onto the bed, spreadeagled, that poor excuse for a nightie draped above her bare pussy showing me exactly how turned on she is.
“Are you looking for punishment?”
She raises her arms above her head and rests them on the pillows. Her breasts jut up, the nipples visible through the thin material. “What gave me away?” She winks and spreads her legs even wider.
This is how it used to be. Hot. Fast. Raw.
I shuck my pants and stroke my cock. “Turn over.”
She rolls onto her front, jiggling that mouth-watering arse at me. “Tie me up and bring out the whip.”
My erection softens. Bondage is a whole other level of trust that I don’t deserve no matter how much Jules wants it. The last time we played this game, the only secret between us was Davo. Now the secret has multiplied. I spin her onto her back and press my lips to hers.
Jules evades my mouth and cups my balls way too firmly. “What part of ‘Tie me up and fuck me’ did you not understand?”
My eyes water. “Jesus, Jules. That’s not helping.”
She releases her grip. My body sags, but the reprieve is short-lived. Her firm, eager hand strokes my erection from base to tip. “Do you want me to take control?” She drags a finger over my tip, spreading the moisture. “Ride you so hard you’ll be begging me to whip you ?”
My cock jerks at the promise in her touch. God, I love this woman. She knows what I need. I pin her to the mattress. “Not in this lifetime, sweetheart.”
“We’ll see about that.” Jules fights for control, and I let her take it. It’s a game we’ve played a thousand times before. Me on top. Jules on top. Me with the whip. Jules with that torturous mouth.
She straddles my thighs and sinks onto me. The urge to thrust is strong, but this is my wife’s ride, her rules. So, I encourage her to put me out of my misery by pinching her nipples and rolling the hard tips between my thumb and forefinger. She throws her head back and slides up and down my shaft at a slow and painful pace. The pressure is heaven, hell and everything in between. I grit my teeth at the friction and trace the delicate line of her throat with my fingers.
Our gazes lock. Jules’ shimmering irises amplify all the love, passion and hope overflowing inside my chest. What started out as hard and fast has morphed into something softer and more malleable. More forgiving. More … everything. There’s no guilt, no lies in this moment. No world outside these four walls. Not even our daughter. Just two people healing each other with love and the deepest, strongest connection. Whole. As one.