28. Chapter 28
Mackenzie
I should have known when I woke up late this morning that today would be crappy. Nothing’s gone right. I got an F on my physics homework, and I spilled chocolate milk on my light pink shirt at lunch, so I’ve been walking around with a brown patch all day.
Now, Talmage is walking towards me on the bus looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
I paste on a smile. “Hey, Tal! How was your chem test?”
He sits frozen like a statue, like he isn’t processing what I’m saying. I touch his arm, and his face turns beet red.
Is he okay? Should I call someone?
He clears his throat. “We shouldn’t do this anymore.”
My ears start ringing as soon as the words register.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening.
“Do… what?” I whisper. I want him to say it. I need to know for sure he’s saying what I think he’s saying.
“This. Us. What we’re doing. We both need to focus on school. I never should have kissed you or taken it this far because it’s against the rules. I have to prepare to go on my mission, and we should date other people. Maybe when we’re older, and we—”
“Stop. Please don’t.” My eyes fill with tears, and I blink them away. “Don’t give me hope of something in the future because you know I’d wait. If you’re ending it, just end it. Don’t give me hope.”
I would say no to every person who asks me on a date between now and when he comes home if it meant we’d have a chance.
“Firefly, I’m sorry.” His face is pinched with hurt as he tries to grab my hand.
“Please don’t call me that anymore.” I hug my backpack, hoping it can act as a shield. I want to ask him to move spots. To leave me alone, but the bus is already moving, and the driver will yell at him if he gets up.
Talmage and I don’t speak for the rest of the ride home. I put in my headphones and let the tears fall silently.
I walk home from the bus stop, wiping my nose as the tears fall faster, and when I’m finally home, I crumple into a heap on my bed.
I thought I’d already experienced heartbreak. I thought I knew what true agony felt like, but it’s nothing compared to the way Talmage Monson has ripped my heart to pieces.
The saddest part is, I still love him. Still want him.
I think I always will.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to get on the bus with him again.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to go to school and pretend I’m not dying on the inside.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to answer questions about why Talmage and I don’t sit next to each other anymore.
But tonight, I’ll cry until I don’t have any more tears.
Surely, I must have heard him wrong.
Talmage went twenty-eight years without masturbating? Is that even healthy?
I truly don’t know what to say, what to think.
He was so turned on by you he couldn’t control himself anymore! The hopeless romantic in me who refuses to die and has read way too many romance novels squeals.
Noooope. No. I can’t think like that.
But damn it. Seeing what was on his phone and the books he had out didn’t upset me. It turned me on a little.
Okay, a lot.
It’s like once I finally admitted to myself I am—still—in love with my fake husband, my body started gearing up to be fucked.
The occasional horny thought I used to have when I read something spicy has turned into a full-body need.
Even though we haven’t so much as kissed in over three weeks.
I haven’t seen him naked. We’ve barely even touched.
God, the kiss on our wedding day feels like a lifetime ago.
I haven’t had time to get myself off because we’ve been stuck in the house together most of the last week—which has only amplified my desire for him.
I’m not the kind of girl who can get herself off standing up in the shower. I have to have something to read or listen to while I do it, or I can’t focus, and I need the space to spread out so I can enjoy myself.
“You’re telling me you’ve never touched yourself? In your entire life? Not once?”
Tal nods rapidly. “Not until we got married. You know what the church teaches. It was one of the rules that scared me the most, but when we got married, I figured, good enough. I could… do that and not feel like I was breaking any rules because I was married.”
I blink at him, still trying to process. “So, you’ve never… orgasmed… until three weeks ago?”
Tal gives me a sheepish grin and shrugs. “The body will find a way to get a release if it needs to, but I’ve never actively sought out an orgasm.”
I tilt my head, confused. How can he have had an orgasm without— oh.
Ohhhhhh.
“Got it. Right. Yeah. That… makes sense.” I clear my throat. “Like I said, I was just shocked. You can look at or read whatever you want. If you decide you want to go find someone to—”
“No!” he practically barks, then takes a deep breath. “No, I don’t need—or want —to find someone to do anything with. If I’m not going to be… intimate with my wife, I sure as hell am not going to go out and find someone else.”
Good lord. Is it hot in here?
I want to ask him if he wants to be intimate with me. I want to ask him if he’s thought about me the way I’ve thought about him.
My entire body flushes as I conjure an image of Tal, his strong frame leaning against the wall of the shower, his cock in his hand.
Is he a moaner? I feel like he’d make so many noises of pleasure.
Would he whimper and beg for me to make him feel good?
I bet if I wrapped my hand around him, he’d be putty in my hands, and I could make him come in two minutes. Or if I put him in my mouth…
Do I have a corruption kink?
I don’t necessarily want to corrupt Tal, but I do want to give him the overwhelming pleasure no one else has.
You can’t even admit out loud you’ve got real feelings for him, don’t complicate things, Mackenzie.
“Mack? Are you good? You kind of zoned out.” Tal’s voice brings me back to the present, and it’s then I realize I’m still holding his sandwich.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” I set the plate on the counter and slide it towards one of the stools. “Eat your sandwich. I’ll go grab my laptop so I can work up here.”
Tal’s eyes roam my face for a second before he limps over to the stool and sits down. He picks up the sandwich and takes a bite, letting out a groan of appreciation, and my nipples harden.
Thank fuck I’m wearing a bra.
“This is really good. Thank you for making it for me.” He takes another bite.
“No problem,” I squeak. “I’ll be right back.”
Before he can say anything, I rush downstairs. My eyes snag again on the books on the couch, the ones with the tabs marking scenes that make my blood heat. That’s the only kind of annotation I do. If the spice is enough to make me need a break, it gets a tab.
The clothes I’m wearing are making me too hot—at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I duck into our room to change, shucking off my pants and shirt. Before I toss my shirt into my laundry basket, something in Tal’s basket catches my eye.
These were the sweats he put on this morning.
Don’t. It’s none of your business.
Ignoring the logical voice in my head, I pick them up and notice the wet patch on the front.
Where I imagine the head of his dick would sit.
Oh god, he got so aroused he soiled his pants.
A helpless, needy sound expels from my throat before I can stop it, and I toss the pants back in the laundry so I don’t do something creepy and inappropriate like smell the wet patch.
I quickly pull on leggings and an oversized T-shirt then grab my laptop and make my way back upstairs.
I hope I can keep my body in check.
I could not keep it in check.
Everything was fine, I made it through the rest of my workday and dinner with no salacious thoughts of my fake husband.
But then we went downstairs to get ready for bed, and he hopped in the shower, and now my mind is running away with itself.
My clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as I imagine him in there.
Is he touching himself ?
I’m straining my ears, trying to hear something, but the bed’s a bit too far away.
I feel like a lunatic, creeping to the bathroom door and gently pushing my ear against it.
But I don’t hear anything other than the steady drumming of the water hitting the tiles and the—
“Mack.”
I jump back as if I’ve been caught, but the door is still closed, and the shower is still on.
I press my ear against the wood harder.
“P-please, Firefly. Want you to touch me,” Tal whimpers. The use of my nickname makes my core clench around nothing, emphasizing how empty I feel.
Now that I know he’s doing what I hoped he was doing, I can hear the subtle slap of his hand moving along his cock.
Move away from the door. You’re invading his privacy.
Right. Yes. I should move. I should leave the room, maybe the fucking house so I can get my head on straight.
But I don’t.
I can’t make myself do it.
“Mmm, I’m coming, Mack. You make me feel so good. Shit. ” His voice is laced with so much desperation, it only serves to turn me on more.
I can’t stop myself any longer, I dive for the bed and lie on my side, facing away from the door before I shove my hand in my pajama shorts and start rapidly rubbing my clit.
I usually like to ease into it, work myself up, use a toy, but I know I don’t have enough time, and I’m so amped up I don’t think I need to, anyway .
I bite my pillow to stop myself from moaning out loud as I continue to get myself off. Listening to him made me so wet, my fingers keep slipping.
The shower turns off, and I know I have less than five minutes to get myself there, or I’m going to have to go to sleep even more hot and bothered than I was before.
The sounds he was making ring in my ears, and I imagine Tal’s tentative fingers rubbing my clit. He’d be a little clumsy, but that’s okay. I’d guide him, teach him everything he wants to know.
I hear the buzz of his toothbrush and work my fingers in faster circles, bringing my free hand under my shirt to pluck and pull at my nipples to add to the sensation.
My body tenses, and my pussy clenches, my orgasm sizzling through me just as the bathroom door clicks open.
I pull my hands from my pants and bring up social media on my phone so it looks like I was just lying here scrolling, but my breathing is rapid, and I’m sure my pale skin is flushed.
I hope he doesn’t notice.
I sit up and give Tal what I hope is a friendly smile, quickly scanning his underwear and T-shirt clad form. I’m quick so he doesn’t catch me staring, but his eyes are locked on my chest so he doesn’t notice.
I follow his gaze and find my skin red and splotchy, and my flush turns redder as embarrassment washes over me.
I can’t believe I did that.
Tal licks his lips and brings his eyes up to mine. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I croak. “Just… hot. ”
Tal nods, a strand of slightly damp hair falling onto this forehead. “Do you want me to go turn the heat off?”
“No, no. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” He limps over to his side of the bed and gets under the blanket, grabbing his own phone.
I roll off the bed and rush to the bathroom to do my business and wash my hands. The bathroom is still a little steamy, but that’s not what has my skin feeling hot.
No, it’s the scent of my body wash permeating the air. I showered before Tal, so it shouldn’t be as strong as it is, which means…
Does he use my body wash to jerk off?
I clench my thighs together at the thought.
I finish washing my hands and leave the bathroom, my mind swirling with possibilities.
Is it unethical to want to fuck your virgin fake husband who you’re deeply in love with?