17. nix
NIX
I wrap my arm around Abbi’s waist as we kiss, our bodies melding together from mouths to hips.
Abbi’s taste has always been my kryptonite, weakening my resolve to follow my plan.
It would be easy to follow my wife inside and seal my promise to do better, to be a better husband by starting in the bedroom and making love to her.
I wish I could, but I can’t. I promised her, and I promised myself that we wouldn’t go that far until our marriage is on solid ground. And I always do my best to keep my promises—not that I have lately.
But it is on solid ground. She listened and understood where you’re coming from, and now she’s inviting you inside for a nightcap, my dick reminds me. We can move forward from here. Things are going to be as good as they were before, if not better.
Her body shifts against mine, and all the blood in my brain redirects to my cock, making it difficult to remember why I need to put the brakes on.
I deepen the kiss, hoping she tastes the promises I mean to keep.
My breaths grow shallow, and I savor this moment with Abbi …
a moment I thought I’d never have again.
Twisting my tongue with hers, I pour my heart and soul and every promise I can make into loving her.
Today, tomorrow, and all the days to come.
I don’t want her ever to question my love and devotion.
I slide my hands down her body to her gorgeous ass and lift her off her feet.
Her hold tightens around my neck, and her legs wrap around my hips as we share open-mouthed kisses.
Our breaths grow heavy as Abbi grinds her hot pussy against my rock-hard length, testing my resolve to its limits.
She changes the angle of her head, and our mouths meld together; our tongues make love as we reconnect on a cellular level.
The heat of her pussy makes my body pulse and sends electricity zapping along my spine.
The desperate need to touch her, to feel her slickness on my fingers, becomes overwhelming, and I slip my hand along her toned thigh, making contact with her flesh.
Something settles deep inside now that we’re touching skin to silky-smooth skin.
I slide my hand up until I reach the crease where her thigh meets her body and then tease my way across to where she needs me most. I rub the backs of my fingers across her heat, feeling the wetness of the fabric, stoking the fire in my veins.
As I make contact, her eyes flutter open, and she breathes into my mouth, “Nix.” A single word. My name on her lips, and I lose control.
Spinning around, I press her against the roughened wall, hiding her from the camera so I can grind against her the way we both need.
Finally, I find my way beneath the silk of her panties, and her heat scorches my fingers as they slide through her slick lips.
Back and forth, I slip my fingers through her arousal, feeling a head rush that we’re here.
That I’m touching her. She grinds down on my hand, and I can’t wait another second to feel her tight heat wrapped around my fingers, so I shove two inside.
My heart pounds loudly in my ears, my blood rushing through my veins like a tsunami.
We both groan at the feel of her sheathing my thick fingers, and I drop my head back on my shoulders, releasing a long, low groan of satisfaction. She licks up the side of my throat and nips at the sensitive flesh beneath my lobe like the minx she is.
Dropping my gaze back to Abbi, I confess again, “I’ve fucking missed you.” How did I let so much distance grow between us when this is what we can have?
A glossy sheen coats Abbi’s eyes, and she squeezes them shut, sending a single tear falling over her thick lashes and blocking me from her pain, shredding me to pieces.
I lick the tear from her face, tasting the saltiness of it on my tongue, then take her mouth in a broken kiss that’s full of desperation to make things right between us.
Drawing my fingers out, I push them back in and encourage her to grind her clit against my hard-on. Her whimper fills my mouth, her breath hot against my lips, her brows furrowed in concentration. She always looks like a damn goddess when she’s chasing her high, and that hasn’t changed.
I pump my fingers in and out of her tight heat, my cock growing harder with each thrust and grind, and grit my teeth to keep myself in check.
This is for Abbi. Purely for my wife, because she deserves to be worshipped.
I only wish things were different, and I could lavish her entire body with kisses and touches.
I’d kiss every single inch, and when I’d finished, I’d start all over again.
She’d never question my love for her again.
Her mewls and panting breaths fill my mouth as her walls tighten around my digits, making it difficult to keep my rhythm.
The grinding of her hips grows erratic, and I know she’s getting close, so I cover her mouth with mine to swallow her cries, ensuring our daughter doesn’t hear what’s going on out here and come out to investigate.
I swallow her moans, storing them, hoarding them in case I never get to do this again.
My beautiful wife breaks, and her arms and legs tighten around me as if she doesn’t trust me to hold her … to keep her safe—I have so much work to do to gain her trust again. I slow my fingers, guiding her through her release, and deepen my kiss, tangling my tongue with hers in worship.
As she comes down from her high, she pulls her mouth from mine and burrows her face in the crook of my neck.
I kiss her softly as I remove my fingers and slide her panties back into place.
I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck off Abbi’s orgasm, moaning at her familiar taste.
“You taste fucking amazing, Abs,” I murmur against her ear.
I feel her lips stretch against my neck, and she slowly raises her head to look at me, a satisfied gleam in her eye that’s sexy as fuck.
Her skin has that glow she always gets after she comes, and I tuck her hair behind her ear so there’s nothing to obstruct her from my view.
Leaning in, I nip her bottom and top lips, then press my mouth to hers.
She swipes out with her tongue and moans as she tastes her cum.
Neither of us is shy after decades of sex together.
We were each other’s firsts in every way, and we explored and grew sexually together.
Everything we know about sex, we learned as a couple: our likes and dislikes, boundaries, and kinks.
We know how to please each other and to say I’m thrilled I could make my wife fall apart so thoroughly after years of abstinence would be a gross understatement.
I feel like I’ve found my way home after being lost in the desert for a thousand years, and every unsteady step I took led me to this moment.
We deepen our kiss, falling into our familiar synchronicity, and while it feels like every time we’ve kissed before, it also feels new and exciting … like a fresh start. We give and take in equal measure until we’re both breathless and need to pull away for our very survival.
I press my forehead to Abbi’s, my eyes locked on hers, and I swear I see some of my Abbi from our younger years. Our smiles grow along with the hope that we can find our way forward. “I’d better say goodnight here before you take advantage of me,” I murmur, pecking her lips.
She chuckles. “Oh yeah, we wouldn’t want that.”
I shake my head with humor dancing on my lips. “Definitely not.” I wouldn’t mind.
I kiss her one last time, then place her back on her feet, holding her until I know she’s steady. I smooth out her dress, ensuring she’s presentable before she turns toward the door, then looks at me over her shoulder. “I had a great time tonight.”
Tucking my hands into my pockets to disguise my hard-on, I grin. “Me too. Now get inside where it’s warm.” I wink and watch her go inside, waiting until I hear the lock engage.
I head back to my truck with lighter steps, climb in, park it in the garage, then enter the house through the mudroom.
Stopping to wash my hands and grab a glass of water, I admire the flowers Abbi left on the counter with a sense of accomplishment.
I managed to take my wife out for a dinner date, and I think we came home more connected than we’ve been for a long time.
Prue waltzes into the kitchen with a smirk. “How was your date?”
I glance at her—she’s so much like her mother—and grin. I can’t help it. My smile has to be a mile wide at this point. “It was perfect.”
She practically swoons; my baby is a romantic at heart.
Wrapping her arms around my middle, she leans her head against my chest, and I fold my arms around her to return her embrace.
She sighs, then looks up at me with a soft smile.
“What’s your secret to keeping your love alive?
I want Luke and me to still be as connected as you and Mom are when we’ve been together as long as you have. ”
I swallow down the lie that wants to escape past my lips. I want to tell her that love is enough and when you’re with the right person, it’s easy to stay connected, but that’s just not true and I don’t want to feed into a false idea of marriage. The one I believed until recently.
Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, I kiss her forehead.
“It takes work … consistent effort on both sides. It means showing your partner that you love them every single day without fail.” I breathe deeply, because that’s where I went wrong.
“You can’t half-ass it. You have to give your marriage everything you have every day. No excuses.”
“Marriage isn’t easy, Sweet Pea, and it’s not for the faint of heart.
You need to listen to your partner, own your mistakes, and make necessary changes to show them how important they are to you.
Both of you need to communicate your needs before they become problems, and you must show up with your actions, not just your words.
Marriage is about giving more than you take.
” Something I haven’t been doing. I’ve been doing all the taking while Abbi’s been doing all the giving—no wonder she’s fed up and exhausted.
I glance at the flowers I bought her tonight, and guilt rolls through my stomach when I think about how long it’s been since I bought her flowers or took her on a date. Since I made any effort to woo my wife.
“Mom and I aren’t perfect, Prue. I feel as though you look at us through rose-colored glasses and think we’re doing everything right.
We’re not … well, I’m not. We have difficult times, but we make it through because we’re both prepared to put the effort in.
” I kiss her forehead again. “You can’t expect your marriage to be perfect 100 percent of the time.
You’ll be disappointed if you do, and it’s unrealistic. ”
“I love your mom, and I’ll never stop loving her.
It doesn’t mean I don’t mess up, because I do …
big time.” Understatement of the year. “I’m lucky your mom loves me and is patient and kind enough to give me the opportunity to make amends when I mess up.
Marriage means forgiving your partner when he or she messes up …
I don’t mean if they assault you or cheat on you, I mean maybe they lose focus on what’s important for a while or forget to show you how important you are to them.
” I peer into her warm brown eyes as she listens intently, reminding me of when she was little and I would teach her something new.
“Sometimes you need to give your partner grace, and other times you have to accept grace from your partner.”
She smiles up at me, showcasing her dimples. “Thanks, Dad. I know marriage isn’t easy and that Luke and I need to work hard. I don’t expect it to be free of trouble or problems. But you and Mom have made it this far, so you must be doing something right.”
“The one thing I did right was marry your mom. I recognized how amazing she was from the get-go, and I was lucky enough that she said yes when I asked her to marry me.”
Prue chuckles as she pokes my stomach. “She was lucky, too, you know.”
“That’s debatable,” I grumble.
She chuckles again as she presses up to kiss my cheek. “Stop it. You’re the best dad ever.”
Prue may think I’m the best dad ever, but I doubt it because I’m certainly not the best husband.
I left Abbi to do the heavy lifting of raising the kids while I was away.
Sure, I dedicated a significant amount of time to my family when I was home, but my absence outweighed my presence.
While I was stuck in the trenches protecting our country, she was stuck in the trenches here, raising our family, and I’m not certain I can say my job was any more important than hers.
“Anyway, I’m going to bed. I have a job on the other side of town in the morning, and I have to get moving early.” She pushes away. “Good night.”
“Night, Sweet Pea. Sweet dreams.” I smile when she blows me a kiss over her shoulder, then check that the house is secure and set the alarm.
Grabbing a fresh glass of water, I head to my bedroom, stopping at our closed bedroom door on the way.
I press my hand to the wood and dip my forehead, sadness washing over me that I can’t sleep beside my wife like a regular husband.
It’s the worst kind of torture knowing she’s in bed in the room down the hall from me and I can’t join her, but I’d never forgive myself if I woke in the night with my hands wrapped around her throat again, her eyes wide in panic, her nails scratching at my arms and her legs kicking out looking for an escape.
The traumatic memory of strangling my wife during my night terror is as fresh as the night it happened, and acidic bile rises up my throat.
I promised to always keep her safe, even if that means keeping her safe from myself.
It’s one promise I made, and I intend to keep at all costs. Even if it means sleeping apart from my wife.