Page 69 of Something Good
“You don’t have to say anything. But I do need you to go now. Please.”
I walked away, leaving him to show himself out.
39
SAMMY
I drovethrough the streets of Omaha, mind spinning out of control as I played back what had happened between Will and me tonight. I’d gotten that text from the bar, the image of a partially full beer, and I’d just needed to see if he was alright. I hadn’t expected him to fall apart in my arms.
The news of his marriage and the impending divorce had eaten at me since he’d dropped that bomb in the wee hours of Sunday morning. I hated the thought of him being married, but to know that the man who’d married him had then cheated on him was unconscionable. How could that asshole not know how lucky he was to have Will? How could he not understand what a gift he’d been given to be loved by him?
Love.
He told me he never stopped loving me. How was that even possible? I felt like so much of my life had changed over the past ten years that sometimes my former self was unrecognizable. At other times, I still felt like that same scared kid who wore an attitude like armor, always waiting for the next bad thing to happen. For the other shoe to drop.
Thanks to one of my sculptures catching the eye of billionaire Warren Buffett, I hadn’t had to worry about money in any significant way in about five years. Yet I still found myself buying generic cereal and getting my hair cut for twenty bucks at the place down the block.
Will had changed too. He was hurting. Deeply. My sunshiny golden boy, who always saw the glass half full, was lost. It tore something open inside me to see him that way. I wasn’t so full of myself to think I was responsible for that—his asshole ex-husband certainly bore some of the blame—but I couldn’t help but think that my actions all those years ago had sent him down the wrong path.
So how was it that with all the ways we’d changed and evolved over the years, I could still take one look at him and feel my heart tumble in my chest all over again?
It was after eleven by the time I stepped into my darkened apartment. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then stripped out of my clothes as I let the water warm. Steam began to fill the room and fog the edges of the mirror as I pulled out my hair tie and combed through the strands. There was just a little bit of clear space left in the center of the mirror, but it was enough to see the marks lining the left side of my neck. I tilted my head and turned slightly to see them better. The memory of Will pressing me into the door while he sucked at my neck had my cock filling and lust curling low in my belly.
Shaking off the memory, I turned and stepped into the shower, letting the spray assault my shoulders, knotted with tension. I tried to ignore the heavy ache in my balls, but there was no stopping the images from flashing through my mind, turning the ache into a throb. Too weak to fight it, I soaped up my hand and fisted my cock, groaning in relief at the contact.
I’d been close to coming tonight as we’d rutted together in his entryway, but when Will’d come apart in my arms, I’d beenhelpless to do anything but hold him through it, my own orgasm taking a back seat to the need to comfort him. But now, as I stood in the shower with my cock in hand, I was dangerously close to shooting already.
The way Will had taken control tonight, shoving me into the door and pressing his body into mine, had been hot as hell. Gone was the tentative eighteen-year-old, fumbling through his first time. Tonight, Will had owned me like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
My strokes were fast and firm as I thought about the way he grabbed me, kissed me, bit my lip, then sucked hickeys onto my neck. With my dick hard as steel and my hand a blur of motion, my balls drew up tight, and I shot my load all over the shower wall. Over and over, jets of cum marked the tile in front of me, and I struggled to stay upright as the power of my orgasm swept through me.
Leaning one shoulder against the wall, I breathed through the comedown, mind spinning once again. Those damn complicated feelings were all tangled inside me, and I didn’t know what to do about any of them.
I tried to untangle them, to wrangle them into order so I could figure out what to do next.
I wanted him.
I wanted to fuck him.
I wanted to soothe his hurts.
I wanted to take away that haunted look in his eye.
I wanted his forgiveness.
I wanted his love.
I wanted… Goddammit. I wanted a second fucking chance.
I just wasn’t sure if I was ten years too late.
40
WILL
My windshield wiperswere working overtime, trying to keep up with the deluge of rain pounding my truck as I crawled along the highway away from Astaire after Sunday dinner. These dinners had been good for Mom and me, making up for lost time and healing the wounds of separation. I still bore some guilt for choosing to keep my distance, but I was trying to work through that. We’d had a nice meal this evening, but now I was headed back to Omaha in the middle of a thunderstorm.
There was a flash and a crack as lightning struck not too far away, startling me. I blew out a breath, focusing my eyes on the road as sheets of water continued to pelt the windshield. I typically enjoyed thunderstorms but usually preferred to ride them out in the safety of my home with a cup of coffee and a good book. It’d been raining softly when I’d left Mom’s house, but the clouds had really opened up once I’d hit the county highway, and there really wasn’t any help for it. I just had to keep going.
