Page 63 of Unleashed

“Huh?” I sit up and angle toward him.

“Ashamed of what?” Dad asks, his interest piqued. He preys on misery.

“I’m trying to be a husband to Simone. We have a lot on our plates, but to be honest, I’ve been putting way more effort between the sheets—”

“What?” I shriek, forgetting my dad is watching. We’re taking on water and sinking fast. I didn’t even wear a cute bikini.

Greg sails on, leaving me to doggy paddle. “But I’m not a machine. It’d be nice to slow down and not perform on demand.” As I remain frozen in the water, watching the Titanic sink, Greg motions toward me with a laugh. “Come on. Your daughter isn’t ugly. But sometimes all I want to do is focus on our desire and not on making Greg Jr. It’s not that I can’t do it, but I’m worn out. You know?”

The horror coursing through my body stabs me from every direction. What in the actual fuck is Greg doing? This is the wrong turn. I glance at my dad, whose face mixes with shock and disgust.

I grab Greg’s arm, but he leans closer and mock whispers, “Shh, baby. Your dad needs to hear all this.” I fucking hate that I notice him calling me baby and miss it more than wearing pink. He bites his lip and turns back to Dad. “She also wants us to move to California to be closer to you. I mean, we could do that since I want to quit my gas jockey job to be a full-time bartender in a nightclub. If Simone also works nights, I heard some of those dives in California have daycare—nightcare—if you will.”

I shove his arm to snap him out of the bullshit, but Greg grins at me. He knows I can’t refute our marriage status now...unless I dump him in front of my dad. And he’s beating me at my own game.

My dad’s face pales as he digests the shitbag of lies. Greg has the gall to continue. “We’ve had our issues like everyone else, but you know how the grass is greener and all that crap.” Greg’s joking subsides somewhat as he inhales and glances at the carpet. “We fit together so damn well.” He almost sounds sad for real, until he looks at my dad with a sudden smirk. “If you know what I mean.” He giggles but swallows them with a frown as I clutch his leg, gripping hard, maybe bruising him. Greg leans over and whispers in my ear, “Don’t get me hard in front of your dad.” I swallow a shriek as he leans away and mutters, “Maybe you should ask your daughter if she wants to see other men.” Oh, my fucking God. He did not. I will kill him. My hand is close enough to yank off Greg’s balls in front of my dad. But holy hell, I’d give anything to touch them again. Or to lick them...

Fuck no, I wouldn’t.

“Simone, is this true?”

I blink at the carpet and look up, forgetting that I’m supposed to be telling him the truth and not daydreaming about sucking on Greg’s testicles. “Huh?”

Dad clears his throat and uncrosses his legs. The overhead light in the living room makes his blue eyes glow in a scary, not-of-this-world way. “Are you cheating on your husband?”

I laugh, covering my mouth, but when my father’s frown intensifies, I answer, “No! God. We... Dad... This isn’t easy...”

Greg leans toward me and picks up my hand. “Please tell me I’m the only man you want. Is it because I work at a gas station? Or is it because I’ve struck out by putting a bun in your oven? I’ll try harder.” How can he say that when he didn’t believe that I was pregnant with our baby? And with a straight face?

“Greg, stop it,” I seethe, glaring at him and tossing his hand. He runs his finger over his twitching bottom lip, and the gleam in his eyes says he’s not finished or sorry. “I’m serious.”

He shakes his head. “Are you calling our marriage a sham?” He looks back at my father, who appears more confused and annoyed. Awesome. I could use this time for a mani/pedi or to run into traffic.

Dad throws out his hand to stop me from arguing. “Simone, I’m at a loss here. Is this marriage a joke to you or to con me out of more money? Because if either is the case, you’ll not see another penny from me.”

I clench my fists next to me as I grind my teeth. This can’t be happening. I left Greg to ease my guilt. I wanted to tell my dad the breakup was my fault, and I had made a mistake. Now Greg is trying to convince my dad that we’re still married? And I’m the one ruining it?

“Dad, no.” I’m lying about a lie’s lie and taking the express train to hell, for fuck’s sake. “The truth is—”

Greg picks up my hand and holds it against his heart. “I promise not to fight about our sex life again. But you know I don’t like it rough. Come on, baby. I can’t do handcuffs.” Such an honest fucker.

His brown eyes meet mine, and his pain flashes brighter than lightning in the night sky. He’d deny he feels anything, while I hate he makes me feel so goddamn much of every emotion. What will Greg mention to my dad next? I don’t know where he’s leading this disaster parade.

Dad growls, “If my daughter isn’t happy, Mr. Rodwell, then maybe it’s best for you to end the marriage.”

“I don’t think so, Dr. Garrison. I get access to parts of her you don’t. I know what makes her happy, and it ain’t money, as you can see.” Jesus Fucking Christ on a cracker. That wins.

“We’re not playing rock-paper-scissors!” I yell as I fling out my hands. “What are you doing?”

Greg hides his lips behind his hand as if he’s thinking. When Dad and I continue glaring at him, Greg drops his hand. “What did I do? I’m explaining to your dad—”

“No. You’re making this so much worse than it is.”

Dad says, “It seems to me you’re mismatched. Or there are ulterior motives for this union. How old are you, anyway?”

Greg drapes his arm over my right shoulder. His clean, citrusy scent hardens my nipples again. “Take a guess. You seem to know it all.”

Dad’s face reddens. “I don’t. Are you even in your twenties?”

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