Page 33 of Mind Pucked

I run my hands down his back and squeeze his shoulder blades, begging him to keep going as he thrusts inside of me repeatedly. I can tell he’s so tense, and still holding back.

I can’t say for sure if he’s only like this because of me, or if he’s just been holding on to too much for the last two years, but I suspect he’s using me to get out some of his aggression. I don’t mind, because I know what it feels like to have so much that needs to be released.

I haven’t been able to relax or feel overwhelming pleasure in ages. I’ve been drowning in my thoughts, questions, and fears. I want Jackson to use me as much as I’m using him to get to a satisfying release.

Jackson brings his hand down to where our bodies meet, and begins to stroke my clit in time with his thrusts. I whimper, my pleasure rising and rising until I’m finally able to let myself go. I fall over the edge into the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time, my body shaking and clenching around him in a true release. It’s all I can do not to moan loudly in satisfaction, but Jackson helps keep me quiet by pressing his mouth to mine and swallowing every sound I make through my climax.

Once I’m spent, he brings himself even closer to me, his chest pressed against mine, and I smell his intoxicating scent as he burrows his head into my neck and keeps thrusting until I hearhim whisper to me that he’s coming. I want him to, desperately need him to. I don’t want him to pull away.

Then, at the last second, he pulls out and comes all over my inner thigh, his head thrown back and his body shaking. I’m surprised at the sudden emptiness, but I know he made the right decision. He has no idea if I’m on birth control or not. Given how much younger I am, the fact that he already has a daughter, and that we aren’t even officially together…he definitely made the right choice.

I lie still, breathless for a moment, both of us trying to come back to reality. He smiles a little bit of an embarrassed smile and tells me he’ll be right back with a towel. I sit up just enough to be able to see the chandelier and find myself mesmerized by how beautiful it is while I process everything that just happened between us.

This was great for me, and I hope he feels the same. I don’t want him coming to his senses and trying to get me out of here for good. It’s impossible not to notice how awkward and uncomfortable he was about having finished on me instead of inside me, and I wonder whether that was the reason he didn’t show any kind of affection afterward.

But it’s not like I should be expecting affection from him anyway.

When he arrives with the towel, I sit up a bit more, trying to get myself together.

I arrange my hair to one side and wipe the beginnings of sweat from under my eyes. He hands me the towel and I wipe his fluids from my leg, folding the towel before setting it down. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I should say something, or if I should wait for him to say something first.

I reach down and gather my clothing, and he begins putting his clothes back on too. I feel a bit embarrassed, but I have to say something.

“That was great,” I say, immediately hating the words I chose. It sounds like we just played a game of basketball or had a nice time at the mall. It doesn’t capture the passion or any depth.

Jackson smiles and moves in closer. He puts his hand on my thigh and softly rubs my cheek. “It was really amazing.”

As he looks into my eyes, I simultaneously feel pulled toward him and want to run away. Now that our time together has ended, the reality of the situation looms over me again.

I’m supposed to be getting closer to him because I suspect he might have something to do with my brother’s death. The conflicting emotions of wanting him and being suspicious of him overwhelm me. I can’t spend another second in this house. I need time to consider what to do next.

“I’m really tired though…I think I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to,” he offers.

“Thank you, but really,” I say. “This was amazing, but I should take off.”

“Alright, no problem,” he says, and we both stand at the same time. “Have a good night.”

Jackson softly takes my hand and leans in to kiss me on my cheek. My heart and my mind are at odds with each other. One flutters at his touch and the other tells me I’m the most terrible person in the world.

8

JACKSON

It’s been a couple days since I was intimate with Amelia, and I don’t know how to make sense of what I’m feeling. I wish someone had given me a handbook or something when I left the hospital without my wife.

No one tells you how to navigate life after loss. No one prepares you for being attracted to other people again, let alone sleeping with them.

I’m sitting on the floor in my bedroom in front of the closet Lyla and I shared, sorting through some of our things. I know it’s already been a couple years, but sometimes it feels like it all happened yesterday. I hadn’t allowed myself to cross that physical line with anyone before Amelia.

I’ve been suppressing that side of myself for so long, for so many reasons. Partly because I’m so busy focusing on Hayden, partly because I don’t want to confuse my daughter by bringing anyone around who might not be permanent, and partly out of loyalty to Lyla.

I know that I fulfilled my vows and I’m allowed to do whatever I want, but damn it still hurts like hell.

I slide a pile of papers, documents, and other items toward me. Some of these things I just shoved into the closet because I couldn’t deal with them at the time.

There’s something about getting rid of things that belonged to her that feels like I’m letting more of her go. One of the best realizations I had after being with Amelia was that I may be more ready to face certain things than I realized. Plus, the fact that I was so terrified to bring a woman back into the bedroom I shared with Lyla was a sign to me that I need to reconsider my setup inside this house.

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