Page 31 of The Chosen Two

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I push my chair back and bounce onto the balls of my feet to bring me back to the here and now. “Yeah, I think I’m good. But I think I should go. It’s a lot to absorb, ya know? Can we pick it all up again tomorrow?” I head for the door before he can respond.

He calls after me, “He knew, you know.”

I stop short but don’t turn around.

George sighs. “He wanted to report your dad, but he had no proof. He noticed when you became withdrawn, and he followed up with your parents. He tried to get you help when you became depressed, but they didn’t want the stigma of a kid with mental health issues. He couldn’t do more. He couldn’t risk his medical license or, more importantly, his cover. He hated himself as he watched you get quieter. Sadder. He hated your parents as he watched the brilliant light inside you fade.”

I walk out of the oak paneled library, taking deep breaths as I hurry through the sitting room big enough to be its own social club, across the marble floored foyer, and past the heavy double doors complete with brass door knockers set into relief carvings of open scrolls. When I get into my car, I lock my doors and sob so violently I can barely pause to breathe.

Four minutes later, my phone chimes with a new text from the number George used the other night. I guess I forgot to program it into my phone, but I still immediately know it’s him.

I’m sorry for upsetting you. Rest up. And tomorrow, wear something you can exercise in. And no calling in sick.

I smile, strangely grateful to have George on my side. I add his number to my contact list under “Docent George.” Looking in the mirror, I manage to somewhat erase the raccoon eyes my teary mascara left in its wake. Then I pull away from the stone mansion and drive off to begin my afternoon pickups.

***

The evening goes as well as it can. While the kids are in their rooms doing homework, I’m in the mudroom, throwing in a load of laundry, hoping no more childhood memories resurface. I open the little detergent drawer with the same amount of effort as always, or so I think, but the drawer flies across the room, and the pieces from inside it scatter around the floor. I get on my hands and knees and start collecting them all when Jake comes home.

I’m not sure how long he’s been watching me, but as soon as I stand up to slide the drawer back into place, he’s against my ass, and once again hard. His hot breath caresses my neck.

“Heya, Sexy.”

“Um, hi. What the hell is with you? Have you been taking Viagra instead of your vitamins or something? Why are you always raring to go?” I turn around to face him and he is pressed up against me the entire time. He looks insulted, but jokingly so, I think.

He places his hands on my hips and pushes himself backwards a bit to speak to me. “How dare you insinuate that I cannot be naturally this excited to see you! You are a strong, beautiful woman. I’m so lucky to have you for myself. I don’t need any help to want to please you. I want that all on my own.”

“Okay. Okay. Sheesh.” I give him the side eye because, quite frankly, he deserves it. “Why are you talking like that? You’ve been so weird since you got home from Vegas.”

I slip past him and don’t stop moving to hear his response. I have four kids to feed and a house to run, not to mention that I’m also preoccupied with my new calling to save the world. I can’t dwell on his weirdness right now. I head to the kitchen to finish dinner, hesitating only when I’m forced to alter the familiar choreography when I encounter Jake standing where I need to be.

He tries to pull me back into conversation. “Where are the kids?”

“In their rooms, doing homework.”

He nods. “When are they coming back down?” On the last word, one eyebrow goes up, and he looks at me calmly but expectantly.

I pause. “When I call them down for dinner.”

“They won’t come down before then?”

“No. They won’t.”

He stares into my very soul. Before I know what’s happening, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. He does kiss me, but it’s more ravenous than passionate. He wraps his fingers in my thick curls, tilts my head back, and then kisses down my neck, nibbling with his teeth. Occasionally, he bites. I’m not sure I like this, but I’m captivated all the same. He wraps a leg around my ankle and knocks me off balance, but he catches me so that I don’t fall and don’t have a choice but to allow him to lower me to the floor at his own convenience.

I’m a little uneasy, but all of his attention is also making me wet. I close my eyes to figure out exactly what I’m feeling in this moment, besides horny as hell. But what I feel is Jake tugging off my pants. This time, he doesn’t bother with foreplay. By the time my eyes are open again, he is against my opening, pressing inside. I gasp, and he grabs my face so I have no choice but to look at him.

“No gasps. No moans. I want you to scream with pleasure this time.”

And with that, he rolls his hips into me again and again, and I can’t help but scream out as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. Right there. On the kitchen floor. So many emotions have been reawakened in me lately.

Chapter 13

Miranda

Mybodyissosore and weak from Jake pounding me on the kitchen floor last night that when I wake up, I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to train with George. Granted, I never knew how I was going to train, given my primary form of exercise for the last thirteen years has been chasing my kids around, and, let’s face it, even that hasn’t happened in about three years.

---