Grady
There’s still a moment every time she comes to me that I think I’ve got to be a polite acquaintance again. My head hasn’t quite gotten used to Cassie opening my door and walking toward me with so much heat in her dark eyes. When she twines around me I thank the forces of the universe a millionth time for this gift.
“I missed you this week,” she murmurs, her breath tickling my neck. God, she feels so good. Every cell in my body hums when she touches me.
“I missed you, too.” I capture her lips with mine and savor her soft kisses, holding her close and wrapping my hand in her silky hair.
“We’re not crazy, right?”
Her plaintive whisper stops me cold, and I tip her face up to study her eyes. “Hey,” I say when she lowers her gaze. “What’s going on?”
“I just…” She pulls away from me and wraps her arms around herself. “I’m just… confused.”
Fuck
. I try to remain calm. “What are you confused about?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Try, Cass.” I don’t mean to sound so stern with her, but this is shades of the old Cassie. Getting her to talk about why she was upset with me used to be like pulling teeth. Eventually it became so exhausting I just stopped asking. But we’re not playing this game now.
“Okay, fine.” Her voice is tremulous. “I love being with you. When I’m in your arms, everything is perfect. But when I’m not with you, I have doubts. I think about old stuff—”
“We talked about that, though,” I interrupt. “Damn it, Cass, you said you’ve forgiven me for the past.”
“I
do
forgive you,” she insists. “But I still have these…
feelings
. I don’t know how to describe them. It’s like the whole world could drop out from underneath me at any time. When I’m by myself, taking care of myself, I don’t worry about that. But when I’m with you, I forget that it could happen. And I don’t want to forget that. Because it
can
happen.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “You want a guarantee, and you can’t get one. I don’t just mean from me, I mean from life. I fucked up before. I won’t do the same thing to you ever again, and I’ll try to keep from hurting you, but that’s not realistic. I think we’re going to hurt each other sometimes. It’s just how it works. But we’re also going to take care of each other. There’s nothing to be confused about as long as we promise to do that.”
“I don’t think I could lose you again.” She’s trembling a little, and I squeeze her tighter. “I don’t think I could bear it.”
“Hey, shhh…” I scoop her up in my arms and she wraps her legs around me. I walk her back to my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind us. Her gaze locks on mine and her breath quickens.
“Let’s do this,” I offer, my lips brushing hers. “Sex. Pizza. Talking. In that order. Okay?”
She nods and I lay her carefully on the bed, crouching over her, unbuttoning her shirt until she’s bared to the waist except for her lace bra.
“You need to get out of your own head, Cass. I’m right here.” I slip her arms out of the sleeves and unhook the bra, tossing both garments aside. And then I take my time worshiping her body with my mouth - her pale throat, her collarbone, the generous swells of her breasts. My lips and tongue could map her from memory, but every touch is a fresh jolt to my dick.
When my lips brush across her belly, right at the waistband of her jeans, her fingers fly up to undo them, but I stop her.
“Stop thinking.”
She obeys me and relaxes her arms on the bed. I nuzzle under her arms, press my lips to her pulse, and tease her nipples with my teeth. When she’s panting and softly moaning I undo her jeans and tug them off her legs. She shivers in just her underwear and socks, and I strip down and cover her with my naked body.
“Stay,” she pleads. “Keep me warm.”
“You’ll be plenty warm,” I promise, sliding down her torso until I’m between her thighs, separated from her bare flesh by a pair of very sheer panties. I breathe on her and she bucks beneath me. I latch onto the delicate skin at the apex of her thigh and she cries out. And then I slide one finger past the barrier of her underwear and into her lubricious heat while I tenderly kiss the flesh on her lower belly. A network of faint, silvery marks are left as a reminder of where she once carried our children. I bury my face against the pale scars and slip another finger inside her, finding the right spot and touching it again and again until she’s rolling her hips to the rhythm I’ve set.
And then I surprise her again by stopping and yanking the little scrap of cloth down to her ankles. I part her legs wide and turn so I can devour her while I attend to my swollen, straining cock.
“I love to watch you stroking yourself,” she gasps, propping herself up on her elbows to gaze down at my busy hand. “Oh, Grady, that’s gonna make me—”
I suck her clit, hard, fisting myself faster, and she collapses on the bed, grabbing my hair and grinding herself onto my face. When she starts to shake, I slip my fingers back inside her and rub her g-spot until she cries my name.
She’s still quivering when I kneel in front of her, tilt her hips up to mine, and plunge myself into her tight, wet heat. I can feel the faint contractions of her waning orgasm on my cock and it spurs me on. Her fingers clutch at the sheets as I pound into her, and it only takes a moment before I feel that telltale tightening in my balls, the pleasurable flutter in my groin.
“Oh!” Cassie cries out. “Oh, Grady, I’m coming again… I’m—”
I fuck her harder, until she seizes around me. Her breathless voice choking out my name and the delicious contractions of her cunt finally undo me. I thrust myself as deep as I can get and let go.
* * * *
I call in the pizza order with Cassie snug in the crook of my arm. She pulls the covers up over us and nuzzles against my chest with a contented sigh, which makes my cock twitch.
“We still do it, you know,” she murmurs.
“Mmm?” I have no idea what she’s talking about. I’m still floating. The air is heavy with the combined musk of our lovemaking and it’s the greatest thing in the world to just bask in it.
“That thing we used to do. Where we just have sex instead of talking about stuff.”
“Hey.” I tilt her face up to mine. “We’re waiting for the pizza. We’re not twenty years old anymore. I have plenty of things to say, and I’m not using sex to distract you.”
“Okay,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
“Not that I’m above it,” I tease, and she smacks my shoulder.
“Be serious,” she insists.
“I’ve never been so serious in my life,” I promise her. “What are you most worried about? Come on, we can fit one or two concerns in before our food gets here.”
She’s taken aback by my question. I think she really didn’t think I was going to talk, and that annoys me a bit, but I let it go. After all, the last time she and I were together like this I had my head up my ass. Fair dues.
“Um… I guess I’m really worried about the kids.”
“What about them?”
“Well, I’m worried about what they’ll think. How they’ll be. Chloe and I… Well, you know what she’s like. She turned twelve and it was like she flipped a switch with me, and I can’t get her back. I don’t know how she’ll take this. You know how she hates change.”
“Don’t you think we can help her through that? Don’t you think she knows us both well enough to know we’ll take care of her?”
“With you in the house she’ll have every reason to just ignore me.” Her voice is tinged with bitterness. “You’re her favorite parent. I just worry that once she’s got you around she won’t listen to me at all. She barely respects my authority as it is.”
“Give me a little credit, Cass. I’m not going to let her do that. And neither are you.”
“It’s just that Caden’s so easy,” she sighs. “Chloe fights me about everything. The only thing I have to get on Caden about is that retainer.”
I groan. “That kid and his fucking retainer.”
“He’s still going to be wearing that thing to his own wedding.”
“We’ll keep on him.”
She’s silent again for a minute, and then she says, “I’m worried about living together again. I haven’t lived with anyone since you.”
“That should be easy, then,” I tease. “No bad habits I need to break you of.”
“I’m…” She’s reluctant to say the words, but when they spill out of her I’m shocked at how she sees herself. “I’m difficult, Grady. I’m uptight, I’m easily annoyed, I’m bitchy when I’m tired or hungry, I…”
I shut her up with a kiss. “Now I am going to do that sex thing. I need to distract you, because you’re talking bullshit.”
“I’m not,” she murmurs against my lips. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re forgetting we lived together for many years. I know these things. I know we’ve both changed, but some things are forever. Like your bitchiness when you’re hungry.” I poke her and she yelps.
“What if…” She starts her thought but doesn’t finish it, her hand halting its movements in my chest hair.
“What if…?”
And then she says the most honest thing I’ve ever heard her say. “What if our physical connection is all this is? What if we’re not really meant to be together?”
I take a deep breath and tamp down my impatience, because she’s being real with me, and she deserves a real answer. “I’ve never hungered for any woman the way I have for you. And I know that’s not just physical. As for if we’re meant to be - I say yes. I’ll always believe that. But okay, so what if there’s no such thing as soulmates? Then we’re two people who want to be together and work hard at it. And that’s fine, too.”
She nods. “Okay.”
“No guarantees, remember?”
“No guarantees.”
“I’ve loved you for twenty-one years, Cass. I’m not going anywhere. Even when we split up, I was still yours.”
Cassie
Sunday dinner goes off without a hitch. The kids are happy to have Grady there, and after the kids go to bed he and I spend a very pleasurable (albeit frustrating) couple of hours making out in the family room. I tease him that we’ve come full circle, furtively groping each other in front of the television as if our parents are going to come around the corner any minute and bust us.
Cuddled into his chest, I feel as safe as I’ve ever felt. He holds my hand and I wonder how anything ever went wrong between us. When he looks in my eyes and tells me he loves me, I know he’s telling the truth.
But when I’m alone in my bed again later, I worry. They’re irrational fears, I know, but that doesn’t make them easier to deal with. Lying in the dark, I start cataloging the “what ifs.”
What if what we’re feeling is just nostalgia and it wears off?
What if we decide a few years down the road this isn’t what we really want and we’ve put our kids through a divorce not once but twice?
And the big one.
What if I can’t ever forgive him for those last couple of years?
Chloe’s drawn little face that last night, her eyes welling with tears, flashes in front of my eyes as it’s done a thousand times over the years. I know Grady would never hurt us now like he hurt us then. But there’s scar tissue inside me, especially where the kids are concerned, and I don’t know if it will ever go away. And where will that leave us if it doesn’t?
* * * *
On Friday my day begins with a 9 a.m. session with Grady and Dr. Gaul, followed by a meeting with my board VP. that drags on for nearly two hours. The Dragon Lady is putting a serious damper on my work life. Aside from the fact that I’m being micromanaged, she’s all but told me she doesn’t want me for the director’s position. Karen finally tended her resignation, and the Dragon Lady finally meets with me after weeks of putting me off and tells me coolly that I am “welcome to apply” but the board will still conduct a search as soon as they revise the job description. I bite my tongue to keep from telling her maybe I should be in on the revision process, since I’m actually
doing
the position, and that she’s certainly generous to offer me a shot at a job I’m already doing, but I talk myself out of it and try to shake it off in the safety of my office when she leaves.
When she’s gone I lock the front doors and spend our lunch hour brooding in my office. Between our therapy session and the meeting I’m stressed, anxious, and on edge. Aside from the tension tugging at my shoulders, I feel a headache creeping up the back of my skull, which irritates me more since I have plans with Grady tonight.
“I hear Eddie in there,” Jai calls across the hall when she leaves.
I smile to myself that Jai knows I play Joni Mitchell when I’m feeling up and Eddie Vedder when I’m feeling down.
Jai appears in my doorway and sighs. “What did she do now? Besides the obvious.”
“She told me I have to apply for the job and they’re still doing a search.”
Jai holds his tongue, but his face says it all.
“I expected it,” I say with a shrug. “It’s just a bit hurtful that she hasn’t acknowledged that I’m already doing the job, and doing it well, I might add.”
“Don’t waste your time trying to squeeze blood from that stone,” he says, his voice gentle, and I realize he’s right. She’s never going to change her mind about me. She’s beyond reasoning with or trying to impress. She wants Cal in my position, and I know she’ll fight the other board members tooth and nail on it. Frankly, I’m probably crazy for even wanting to stay here.
I pass the afternoon planning an upcoming volunteer fair we’re co-hosting with the local technical and community college. At four o’clock my eyes are bleary and my neck is aching, but I’m supposed to head to Grady’s for the night. Both kids are at sleepovers and we have some alone time which we’re spending at his house so I can help him pack.
Grady’s not moving in just yet, but we have doubles of a lot of stuff and Grady has tasked me with making decisions about what stays and goes. He only cares about his tools, media collection, and music stuff and has given me free reign to claim or reject anything else in the house. So tomorrow we’re planning to go through and start weeding. He’s at our house most nights, and we’ve begun using his place as our getaway.
I shift restlessly in my seat thinking about the text Grady sent me this morning after our therapy session:
I can’t wait to worship you tonight.
I need to be worshiped. I need something beautiful to take this day away. I announce to Jai that we’re leaving at exactly four-thirty and shoot Grady a message:
There soon, love.
* * * *
Later that night, Grady holds my hand against his chest, bending and unbending my fingers in turn, tracing the edges of my nail beds, kissing my fingertips with his own. Half an hour ago he was inside me, moving so gently I thought I’d die, and when we collapsed to the mattress we slipped into lovers’ talk. At our therapy session today Adam and Yveta, the only significant others during our years of separation, were discussed tentatively. We were too polite, holding back things we both wanted and needed to say. But it was a start. Here in bed he invites me to go a bit further.
“Anything else you want to ask me?” he murmurs, planting a kiss in my palm and closing my fingers over it, just like he used to when we were kids.
Oh God.
I’d been too nervous to ask the question in the therapist’s office, because even though we’re there to solve problems I feel like sometimes our conversations cause
more
problems by dredging up old hurts. I’ve told myself probably a thousand times that the answer to this one little question is the key to everything.
And I know I shouldn’t ask it even as the words form in my brain, but I say them anyway.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Did you fuck Jana Lott?”
Grady whole body stiffens instantly against mine. “What?”
“Jana Lott. In high school. Did you fuck her?”
He’s silent for a moment, and when he speaks his voice is tight, the words clipped. “No, Cassie. I did not fuck Jana Lott.”
Every fiber of me being tells me I should shut my mouth and take the answer, but I push. “You really didn’t? Not even once?”
He sighs and rolls onto his back.
“Because if you did, that’s fine. I mean, no, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean. I just need the truth.”
“You cannot be fucking serious.” He glares at me.
“Just tell me.”
“You’re serious. I can’t believe you’re seriously asking me that.” He’s incredulous, and more than a little pissed off.
“I just need to know,” I say in what I hope is a calm voice.
Cursing under his breath, Grady leaps out of bed, grabbing his pillow and a blanket from the foot of the bed. “I’ll be in Caden’s room when you get your head out of your ass,” he barks.
The way that question sets him off makes me even more afraid he
did
fuck Jana Lott. And now I’m pissed, too, because instead of staying and discussing it with me like the therapist said we should do, he’s shutting me down and going to the other bedroom. Closing me out.
I shout after him, “Do you swear to God you never fucked Jana Lott?” The words sound unhinged coming out of my mouth, and when I scramble out of bed and go after him I’m surprised to see he’s still standing in the hallway.
When I advance on him he chucks the blanket and pillow aside and stalks toward me.
“Did I fuck Jana Lott? Is that what you really need to know? All the questions in the world you could ask me, and that’s the one you pick?”
I cross my arms and hold my ground.
He shakes his head. “You are the most goddamn ridiculous woman I have ever met.”
“I need to know,” I insist.
“Jana Lott,” he says in a low growl when he reaches me, “is not the issue here. Do you know how I know that?”
“She
is
the issue.”
“No. Not even close.” He takes my face in his hands and speaks firmly. “Cass, I told you
years
ago
I never slept with Jana Lott. Christ, that date was in eleventh fucking grade and you still can’t let it go.” His eyes burn into mine. “Which tells me this is not about Jana Lott. It’s about you not trusting me. Fundamentally.”
I entertain that thought for about two seconds before I snap back, “I think you
did
fuck her.”
“No. You don’t think that. You need me to say the words? Fine. I’ll say the words. I didn’t so much as touch another woman between the night I met you and about five years after you kicked me out, except for that one drunken party kiss in 11th grade. Okay? That what you need to hear?”
I’m shocked into silence and he continues.
“Jana Lott was one date. We saw a movie, I held her hand, and at the end of the night I hugged her goodbye. That was it. I barely remember that girl, and if I bumped into her tomorrow I probably wouldn’t even recognize her. I honestly didn’t give two fucks about her then and I care even less about her now.”
I’m thirty-eight years old and I have just chased my ex-husband down the hall shrieking like a banshee about some girl he dated when we were on a break in high school. I’m having a fit. In the nude. I am seriously insane.
I realize this and don’t even try to disguise my horror at my own behavior. “Oh God. And now you’re seriously pissed off.”
“I’m
seriously
pissed off,” he agrees, but he strokes my cheek with his thumb.
“Okay.” I swallow and sag against him. “I’m sorry.”
He squeezes me fiercely, then presses his lips to my forehead. “Only say you’re sorry if you get me and you mean it. Otherwise we’re going to have this argument again, and I’m already pretty fucking tired of our threesome with Jana Lott.”
I giggle into his neck, more out of relief than amusement. “You wish.”
“Nope.” He nuzzles my nose with his. “She’s not on my threesome list.” Then his mouth is on mine, brushing across my lips. His eyes dance with amusement.
“You have a threesome list?” A little sizzle runs through me.
“Behave and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Behave?” I feign indignation and he hoists me up over his shoulder, ignoring my shrieks of protest, and fireman-carries me back to his bedroom. He tosses me on the bed and I’m instantly panting for him.
“Behave,” he murmurs as he climbs over me, rubbing his face between my breasts. “I have plans for you if you’re done being a brat.”
“What kind of plans?” I ask breathlessly as his tongue licks a slow path up my chest, to my collarbone.
“The kind of plans that involve you being on your stomach,” he growls. “Flip over.”
I start to move but he flips me himself and presses his body over mine, his distinct cedar and musk smell enveloping me. My neck is suddenly bare as he sweeps the hair to one side, and I shiver when his hot breath warms my skin. He’s not touching me at all, but his heat and weight are close enough to register.
“We done with Jana Lott?” Grady’s tongue makes contact with my spine and where he touches me my skin goes wildly sensitive.
He’s teasing me and I can’t help being bratty in return. “Maybe.”
With an even voice, he asks, “You sure that’s the answer you want to give me?”
“I meant yes,” I breathe. My entire body is throbbing and I feel myself growing slick between my thighs.
“Promise?” He nuzzles the nape of my neck and chuckles at the strangled noise I make in my throat. I feel his erection nudge against me. Adjusting himself so that his cock glides just along the crack of my ass while he kisses my neck, he works his hips and mouth in tandem until every nerve along the length of my back is sizzling.
“Promise,” I breathe, arching into the delicious flame he’s stoking in me. He nips at the precise place on the back of my neck guaranteed to drive me wild, and I cry out in response. But he doesn’t touch me with his hands. Arms on either side of me, he hovers above me so only his cock and his mouth make contact with my skin.
I want his mouth and cock but I also want his fingers and his hips and his chest and every other part of him. I groan in frustration as he kisses his way down my back, pausing to lick and nibble until my entire back is one great pleasure zone.
I squirm against the sheets and -
crack!
- I’m rewarded with a sharp slap to my right butt cheek. He’s kneeling behind me now, and when the shock fades the unexpected stinging sensation blooms across my backside. He’s never done that before, and I’m immediately interested in where he would’ve learned that particular little move when -
smack!
- he slaps the left cheek.
Oh God.
“Get on all fours,” he murmurs huskily, and the raw need in his voice makes me shiver.
I decide instantly that it doesn’t matter one bit where Grady learned anything as long as he keeps on doing it and scramble to obey.