Chapter 17 – Mindy #2
Finally breaking away, I frown. “I’m mad at you, Rog.”
He wraps an arm around me and leads me down the hallway. “I know, babe, and I’m sorry. Time got away from me. All I want to do is lose myself between your legs.” God, I want that. As pissed as I was, I still need this. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.”
“Roger…” I can feel my resolve weakening as he pushes me onto the bed.
“I love you, Mindy, and I want to fuck my wife.”
My emotions war with my neglected vagina. The vagina wins. “Close the door.”
He has us both undressed and beneath the covers in no time. “Jesus, you feel good,” he murmurs, his hands roaming over my body. I’ve missed being touched. I’m starved for it. “Get on your hands and knees. I want to see that pretty ass.”
Roger isn’t much of a dirty talker, but once he’s had a couple drinks, his words loosen up a bit. I roll over and get into position, earning me a deep groan from my husband. “Fuck yeah. That’s what I like.” He gives me a sharp smack on the butt, and I giggle.
I guess we’re skipping the foreplay tonight since we don’t have much time. Honestly, I probably won’t come without getting properly warmed up first, but at least I’ll get to have sex.
Lining himself up, my husband sinks slowly into me. “Damn, Mindy.”
A low moan escapes my lips. “That feels good.”
Grasping my hips, he pulls back before slamming into me, awakening all the nerve endings inside me. Then he begins thrusting. In and out. Rough. Hard. Fast. It’s the best sex I’d had in years.
But still not as good as… Nope. Not going there.
“That’s so good, baby. Give it to me harder.” He picks up his pace, and the headboard begins knocking against the wall. It’s been a while since we’ve banged a headboard, and the erotic sound turns me on. Maybe I would be able to come tonight after all “Yes, Rog. Play with my clit.”
Sliding one hand around and down, he flicks at my little button with his middle finger, and my head drops to the mattress. So. Fucking. Good.
“Gotta slow down or I’m going to come too soon,” he pants, decreasing his pace a little and halting that glorious headboard sound. “Come for me, baby.” His finger presses hard against my clit, the motion circular as he fucks me slowly and with less force.
“Almost there,” I breathe. “Fuck me harder. Please.”
His hand tightens on my hip, and then he pauses. The unmistakable sound of the front door closing meets our ears. Rose is home.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I warn.
“Mindy…”
“Dammit, Roger. Fuck me!”
But I can already feel him softening inside me.
“Shit. I lost it.” He pulls out and falls over on the bed, his breathing labored as he covers his eyes with his forearm. I lay beside him, draping myself halfway over his body.
“It’s okay, Rog. I can get it back.” My hand snakes down over his stomach and reaches for him.
He stops me with a hand on my wrist. “No, it’s okay, babe.”
But it's not okay. It’s not okay at all.
Roger pushes himself off the bed and walks into the bathroom like that didn’t just fucking happen.
A few seconds later, I hear the shower start up.
When he comes back out, he dresses and heads into the living room to talk to his mother like he does every Friday night when she gets home.
I long for the days when we would make love and then fall asleep in each other’s arms, which hasn’t happened in years.
My hurt is a low simmer while my anger boils over the top. First of all, Roger had stayed out for hours with his friends on our only alone night, forcing us to have to rush our time together. Second, as soon as he heard his mother come in, he deflated like a damn popped balloon.
This isn’t healthy. It isn’t right. And it isn’t fucking fair.
Stomping over to the dresser, I pick up my phone and dial. “You busy?” I bark when Caroline answers.
“No, but I will be in a little bit. Wink, wink.”
“Caro, you don’t have to say, ‘Wink, wink.’ I got your point.” She laughs, and the sheer joy of it draws a reluctant smile across my face. “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you would meet me for a few minutes. After you’re… done, I mean.”
“Is something wrong? Oh, let me guess. You can’t walk after Roger got through with you last night, and you need me to take you to the emergency room. Did The Dress cast its magical powers over him and make him forget all about his mommy?”
“Not exactly.”
My friend knows me well and can read my mood with only those two words. Her teasing stops, replaced with concern. “I’ll meet you anywhere you need me to be, Mindy.” God bless this woman. She’s truly my ride or die.
“I need to stay in your spare room tonight, if that’s okay. I’ll have to pack a bag, so you have time to finish your wink wink stuff.”
I can hear the smile in her voice. “It’s okay, Mindy. Brayden can wait.”
“No,” I say sharply. “I’m not going to let you treat your husband like mine treats me. Finish what you were up to and then meet me.”
I tell her where we’re going, and she snorts out a laugh. “Good for you, honey. I’ll see you there.”
Marching into the closet, I get dressed in black joggers with a bold white stripe down the side and a fitted white T-shirt and then pull my hair into a high ponytail.
Emerging from the closet with my overnight bag, I meticulously pack a few things.
Roger walks in as I’m shutting the dresser drawer, and I turn to him.
He looks me over, noting I’m not dressed for bed. “Where are you going, babe?”
“To Venus.”
Roger blinks in confusion. “The planet?”
“No,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. “The sex toy store.”
His eyes widen. “But…”
I don’t allow him to argue. “I threw all my toys away three years ago because you considered it disrespectful for a married woman to get herself off.” My shoulders lift and fall in a shrug as I tip up my chin in defiance.
“Well, now that I apparently have to take care of my own needs, I’m restocking. ”
“I’ll take care of my wife’s needs,” he says, the tone whiny and annoying. It’s the least appealing thing I’ve ever heard. When I turn my gaze pointedly toward the bed we’d vacated minutes ago and then back to him, he sighs. “You know how I feel about having sex with my mom home.”
“And you know how I feel. You just don’t give a shit. I’m tired of living like this, Roger.”
“All you care about is sex,” he argues, and my blood sizzles in my veins because he just doesn’t get it.
“It’s about so much more than that. I have no say about what happens in my own home. You let your mother move in here without even consulting me. She redecorated our fucking living room. She reorganized my spice rack. I love Rose, but this is my house too, Roger.”
He doesn’t say anything, simply scowls, so I continue. “I feel like this isn’t my home. Like we’re just roommates with benefits, except now I’m not getting any of the benefits.”
“So you want me to just kick my mom out on the street? Is that what this is about?” he fumes, and I clamp my lips together and let out a quiet scream of frustration.
“You know damn well that’s not what this is about, so stop trying to gaslight me. You said it would be temporary and you’d use the money from the sale of her house to get her a small place near here. But that hasn’t happened.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he pouts. “I like having her here.”
“More than having me here?” I ask, my anger rising because for the first time, it’s all coming to light. He never intended on Rose leaving. This was his plan all along.
He shakes his head, forehead furrowing. “Lower your voice. My mom will hear us.”
My anger is burning so hot, I’m afraid my red hair will turn into actual flames. Taking a step toward him, I lower my voice to a menacing level.
“This is what I’m talking about. We can’t even have a proper argument because your mom might hear us.
We can’t have sex because your mom might hear us.
I can’t even walk around topless in my own living room, and you want to know why?
” I answer my own question. “That’s right.
Because your mother is here. I have absolutely no authority in my own goddamn home, and I’m sick of it. I deserve to be your priority.”
Jesus, that feels good to say, and it’s the absolute truth. I’m worth more than this.
“I never thought you’d be this damn selfish,” he says, gritting his teeth.
“Well, I am. I’ve been patient and understanding for three years, and now it’s my turn.” I swallow hard, shoring up my resolve. “I want us to go to marriage counseling.”
Roger’s nostril lifts in a sneer. “I’m not doing that shit. You’re the one who needs to go to therapy.” Oh, this motherfucker…
I poke him in the chest to emphasize each word. “You. Left. In. The. Middle. Of. Sex. To go have tea with your mommy.”
His eyebrows are crunched together like one long caterpillar. He knows what I said is true, though he says nothing, so I continue.
“And maybe you’re right. I probably need therapy too.
Because I’ve allowed you to walk all over me for years, and I need to learn to stand up for myself.
But you need a whole damn lot of therapy for your shit too.
Your mommy issues are unhealthy. Perhaps you’ll learn to cut the apron strings and not be such a goddamn mama’s boy.
You’re a married adult, Roger. Act like it. ”
With that, I grab my overnight bag, and Roger suddenly goes into panic mode. “Wait. Why do you have that bag?”
“Because I’m staying at Caroline’s house until you make a decision,” I say, marching toward the door. Before I open it, I whirl back toward him. “Therapy or divorce, Roger. It’s your choice.”
And I walk out, leaving my husband standing there with his mouth wide open in shock.