CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Nate
Watching my unconscious father being removed the hotel suite on a trolley was the last straw on what had been a hellish day.
I zoned out, lost in numbness and incredulity.
How had this happened to me? How had I lived for twelve years never doubting the story the US government told me about how my father supposedly died?
Jack strode in from the hall; still in his work-out gear, sweaty, and mussed up.
He walked up to me and encased me in a tight hug.
Honestly, I was shocked. I’d always had to ask Erik for a hug.
In the last few years, he’d made me feel like my basic emotional needs were a burden, but Jack was the opposite.
He was open and affectionate, seemingly able to read in my eyes what I needed even before I knew myself.
His care and attention soothed me, and his support was literally keeping me on my feet.
My face was buried at his nape and I inhaled his natural musk and bay leaf scent. He felt like home.
“Tell me this goddamn day’s over. I’ve got nothing left,” I grumbled into his skin.
“It’s over babe! We survived. Nothing left to do but eat and go to bed. I’m famished.”
“You’re always famished!”
“True. What did you order for dinner?”
“The weather’s too hot and I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got us salads, a cheeseboard, and a dessert platter,” I mumbled.
“Then what smells so good?” Jack asked. It hit me then, that yeah, the scent of food was lovely, but as I’d ordered salads and desserts, and not hot food, the scent shouldn’t be that strong or so deliciously cheesy.
I reluctantly stepped out of Jack’s embrace and we made our way to the dining room.
Jack lifted the cloche covers of the four plates on the top tier of the trolley.
Along with the salads, garlic bread and cheeseboard was a large bowl of gourmet Mac and cheese.
“Huh, Dad remembered!” I sighed. He’d pre-empted that I’d need comfort after discovering he’d faked his death. I still had a lot to process, and I wasn’t ready to forgive him, but I was kinda touched that my father remembered this little silly fact about me.
Jack pulled a chair out and in a particularly terrible French accent, he said “Monsieur Linden, pliz be seated. I ‘ave a delicioso menu for you, Le fromage de mac, aussi per dessert, fromage et les crackeurs.”
I couldn’t help but laugh and fall a little bit more in-love with Jack Boyd.
I caught myself then. Had I actually believed I was falling for Jack?
How could that be, when less than two weeks ago I believed I was happily married?
Maybe this is lust? Maybe I’d subconsciously been falling a little bit in love with Jack Boyd every day since our first video call?
Could I trust my feelings when my life was such a shit storm?
I sat, and Jack served me. The food looked and smelled delicious.
I took a bite, and yeah, it tasted great too, with the chef using a mixture of four cheeses in the sauce and garnish.
I watched Jack as we ate. His smiling eyes kept meeting mine, and each time I felt a dart of electricity.
He hummed in appreciation at every mouthful of his meal, even though it was just a Waldorf salad.
The rumbling sound aroused me. I couldn’t recall feeling such longing—that I’d die if we didn’t fuck right now.
I couldn’t finish my food, and it shows how gone I was, because I ignored the cheeseboard!
My mind was focused on something else. I stood abruptly, rounded the table and threaded my hand around Jack’s nape and held him in place while I leaned in and plundered his mouth.
Cutlery clattered to the table as he moaned.
I pulled away and stared into his lust glazed eyes.
Yeah! I knew who I wanted and nothing short of a nuclear war would stop me from having him.
“Your, uh, lip’s bleeding,” Jack said dazedly.
“I don’t care. We’re doing this, now!” I growled decisively.
“You’ll get no argument from me!” Jack pushed his chair back, rose up like a snake readying to attack, and then we collided, groping, grasping, all hot kisses, and busy hands.
I reluctantly pulled back and marvelled at Jack’s moist puffy lips made rosy by my blood. Even the bruises on his face were sexy, giving him an almost rakish look. “Bedroom, now!” I instructed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my name!”
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