Page 5 of Claiming His Wife

I think back on the last several months, trying to remember… How long has it been? I’m still thinking when Mallory gives me the answer.

“Eighteen months. You haven’t touched me in eighteen months.”

“What? Impossible.” She’s got to be wrong. My wife is fucking gorgeous. She’s got curves for days and perfectly kissable lips that I’ve never been able to resist. How could I go that long and not bury myself balls deep inside her every chance I get? The truth of her words is like a sledgehammer to the head. I’ve been a fool.

“I went grocery shopping and prepped your lunches for the week. The ticket for your dry cleaning is on the counter, it’ll be ready on Wednesday. Don’t forget you have a physical next Monday, it’s on your calendar, but I know you…”

Yeah, she does. If she didn’t schedule those kinds of things, I wouldn’t bother. I’ve not been sick in years and don’t see the point of wasting the time, but I do it for Mallory. She’s a worrier. Even now, when she’s getting ready to leave me, she’s still making sure I’m taken care of. I’ve always felt like she was too damned good for me, maybe I was right in thinking I don’t deserve her. If I’ve neglected her so much that she’s talking about separation—I won’t even think about the D-word.

Divorcecan’t be an option.

I have to fix this.

Before I can think of what to say, how to fix what I obviously broke, Mallory is grabbing her purse and heading toward the front door. Toward the end of us.

“Mal… please.”

She stops in her tracks but doesn’t turn to look at me. From one heartbeat to the next I have her in my arms, my lips crushed to hers. She’s stiff in my arms but doesn’t push me away, which I take as a positive sign. I press light, teasing kisses to her lips, trying to coax her to kiss me back. When that doesn’t work, I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and gently nip it with my teeth. Her eyes flash with that familiar rush of desire proving that she’s not immune to me. To the passion that’s always burned bright between us.

I bury my fingers in her long brown hair, gripping it tightly. Her lips part on a gasp and I take full advantage and deepen the kiss. For the briefest moment she tries to push away, but my warning growl keeps her in place, her eyes falling closed as she gives in, becoming pliant in my arms. Tentatively she brushes her tongue along mine… the slick heat snaps my control and hers. Our kiss turns fevered, and as it has always been between us, we ignite.

Her hands are fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer.That’s right, baby, remember what we are—who we are.With one hand still buried in her hair, my other grips her ass, giving her the closer that she wants. When she feels my thick cock pressed against her, she lets out a little whimper and rubs against it. She breaks away from my lips, gasping for breath. I kiss my way down her throat, lightly sucking the spot that drives her crazy.

I work the tiny buttons on the front of her shirt until her lace covered breasts are exposed. My cock twitches at the peek-a-boo effect the white lace has on her pink nipples. I groan low in my throat as I suck one of those tempting tips into my mouth through the lace. Her hands are tugging my hair as she rubs her pussy against me wantonly.

Fuck, she’s hungry for it.

I kiss my way back up to her lips and eat at them like a starving man. I cup her ass and lift her; her legs wrap around my waist and her arms loop around my neck. Just like she said, I’m looking for the closest flat surface. Her back hitting the wall has the same result as dousing her with a bucket of ice water. Her sex glazed eyes clear, becoming big blue pools of shock. She drops her legs and arms from me as if burned.

“No.” she fervently shakes her head.

I cup her face, stopping the motion, moving my lips toward hers, desperate to rekindle that spark. This time she turns her head and ducks under my arm putting distance between us again.

“Why?” she asks, wrapping the sides of her shirt around her as if it were armor. “You haven’t so much as looked at me in over a year. Why now?”

I cringe at her whisper soft words as if she screamed them. “Because I don’t want you to leave.”

Her head shakes and tears slip from her eyes. “That’s not a good enough reason.”

I throw my arms in the air in frustration. “I don’t know what you want to hear from me, Mallory! I know I fucked up. I get that, but I’ll change. I’ll fix this—”

She bends and grabs her purse that she must’ve dropped when I kissed her, then takes several steps backward, toward the door. “You can’t fix a year’s worth of hurts just because you don’t want me to leave. You don’t see me anymore—”

“I see you now!”

She smiles that same sad smile from earlier. “It shouldn’t have taken me leaving for you to see me.”

My anger is instantly squashed. “You’re right. Please, just give me a chance to make this right. You can’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. It’s too little, too late.”

And with that, she turns and walks out of the house we bought together. The house we planned on raising our children in. The house that is just four walls without her in it to make it a home. When the door snicks closed behind her, I make a silent vow to find a way to get my wife back. I’ll figure out what happened with us and fix it. I refuse to give up on Mallory.

Chapter Three

Mallory

I heldit together all the way to Zack’s, but the minute I crossed the threshold and saw the looks on my two best friends’ faces—one sympathetic and one filled with an anger that burns so bright it would rival the fiery pits of hell—I break down. Zack pulls me to the couch and wraps me in a comforting hug while I cry on his shoulder. Jen grabs a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses.

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