Page 12 of Sexploration

hungry for more. And I’ve been a starving man since our last kiss. But I keep my hands to myself.

Her mouth leaves mine much sooner than I’d like, her eyes glossy with emotion as they meet mine again. “Thank you.”

JOSIE

My pulse is still racing, my hands shaky as I grab some plates from the cabinet. The last ten minutes are a lot to process. I’m more than ready for my marriage to be over, but it still felt like a kick in the gut when he handed me those divorce papers. As if that weren’t awful enough, I also got the pleasure of hearing Tommy say those disgusting things about me. The man I spent ten years of my life with was talking about me like I was nothing—less than human. Any residual feelings I had for him and the life we shared are dead and buried for good now.

August walks into the kitchen with the pizza, his stare avoiding mine as he places it on the counter. Kissing him might not have been the best idea. It damn sure won’t help ease the tension between us. But seeing him punch Tommy like that, hearing him defend me... I just couldn’t help myself.

It might be wrong, but I got a sick satisfaction from seeing Tommy flee like the hounds of hell were on his trail. Lord knows, I’ve suffered through his belligerent ramblings many times throughout the course of our marriage. The man never knows when to shut up. I often fantasized about doing exactly what August did.

“How’s your hand?”

He shrugs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his gaze finally finds mine. “Much better than Tommy’s nose.”

A toothy grin blooms on his face as I laugh, the sight causing a flutter in my stomach. “Even so... you should put some ice on it.”

“Nah...” He shows me his hand, flexing it. “It will be okay. This isn’t the first time these knuckles have gotten acquainted with someone’s face.”

I grab a dishtowel and some ice from the freezer, wrapping it up. “Come here, you big oaf. Let me see your hand.”

He moves closer but shakes his head. “It’s fine. Promise. Barely felt it.”

I glare at him, holding out my hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he places his in mine. My thumb brushes over his knuckles. There’s no swelling yet, but they do look a little red. “I can’t believe you punched Tommy.”

“The bastard deserved it.”

He’s not wrong there. What Tommy said was vile and cruel. But it wasn’t a complete lie. We hadn’t slept together in years. And the last few times we did have sex, I wasn’t into it at all. I’d pretty much just lie there, waiting for it to end. I was neverin the mood. My sex drive left the chat years ago.

Or so I thought. It seems to be alive and well around August.

“That stuff he said...” I can’t bring myself to finish that sentence, to tell August that there was some truth in the things Tommy said.

“Was complete bullshit.” He tilts his head, being sure my gaze is locked with his. “He’s a prick. You were always too good for him.”

The fluttering in my stomach migrates up to my chest. “Okay. You’re right, he did deserve it a little. But I’m going to tell you what I tell my students—you can’t solve your problems with violence.”

“Maybe not, but it felt really fucking good.”

I laugh and place a gentle kiss on the reddest knuckle. “Kisses make all the boo-boos better.”

He’s oddly silent while I wrap the towel around his hand. When my eyes lift to meet his, the fire behind his gaze heats my skin.

I let go of his hand, my eyebrows raising. “What?”

“Listen... I’m trying to behave here.” He leans in, planting his good hand on the counter next to me. “But if you keep putting those gorgeous lips on me, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

It’s like I’ve been engulfed in flames, the need to press my body into his overwhelming. For just a moment, I let my mind run away with thoughts of doing exactly that—the two of us sharing another Earth-shattering kiss that ends with my ass on the edge of the counter and my legs wrapped around him.

I shake the images from my head, stepping to the side. “We’d better eat before the pizza gets cold.”

* * *

August pretends not to watch me as I read through the papers Tommy delivered, his stare flickering away each time my eyes move to the other end of the couch. After we polished off half a large pizza and several beers, I decided to grab them from upstairs. It gave me something to focus on other than inappropriate thoughts of August.

Everything seems standard. At least there’s nothing in them I feel the need to contest. I can’t bring myself to give a damn about any of it. That is, until I get to the part about the house,our house, and my stomach sours.

I don’t want to live there anymore. I couldn’t stand living with the ghosts of our past together. But the idea of him getting to keep his life as it is, just simply erasing me from the picture and putting someone else in my place...

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