The Ford Brothers Series Box Set, page 87
He puts his beer down on the table and rises. “Alright. Stand up.”
I stand, folding my arms on my chest in mock defiance. He bends a little and wraps one arm just below my waist. Without so much as a grunt, he lifts me off the ground with zero effort. Shocked, I unfurl my arms from my chest and grab him around the neck, fearing that he’s going to drop me. His beefy arms are so warm and comforting around me. I put it out of my mind immediately.
“See? What do you weigh…like…one twenty?” he puts me down. “I press one fifty on each arm daily, sweetie.” He sits back down, pleased with himself. “And you’re still cut off.”
“Fine. You’ve made your point.” My nose is in the air, feigning stubbornness.
“So, getting back to this whole marriage thing at nineteen.”
“What about it?”
“Don’t you have any like…wild oats to sow?” he looks at me, utterly confused over how a woman could possibly have been committed to someone at such a young age.
“No. I don’t think I’m that type of girl, Dalton. I was very shy as a teenager. Aaron was, too. I think that’s why we got along so well.”
“And now?”
I hesitate, drawing in a deep breath. The rain has slowed; just a light drizzle remains. “Dalton, if you can’t fathom how I could get married so young, you certainly couldn’t fathom what marriage is like seventeen years later. It’s complicated.”
“I’ll give you another beer if you answer the question straight up.”
I swallow.
He lets me off the hook, stroking his hand comfortingly down my back once, giving me a pat. “Come on. I’ll go get my umbrella and walk you home. It’s late.”
Chapter 10
Aaron
The two ladies I’ve decided to hire seem attuned to my needs. I don’t want anyone fawning or fussing over me. I just want someone to help me do the utterly disgusting things that need to be done, that I wouldn’t wish on anyone to do, unless they’re paid to do them. Amelia doesn’t mind doing them, but even a wife shouldn’t be punished to that degree. Besides, Amelia doesn’t wish to be chained to me day and night, nor do I wish that on her. We both need our space. And I need my dignity. The night of the accident is still a blur, but I do remember waking up and not being able to feel my legs. One never forgets that. It was the scariest moment of my life, and nothing has dulled the fear.
Amelia doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve managed to finagle my way into getting my licence back. It’s amazing what money can do. This whole Alcoholics Anonymous program is ludicrous. Nobody is making me go to those meetings. It’s bad enough what I’ve gone through. And who wouldn’t need alcohol to numb this pain? Nobody is going to tell me what I can and cannot do. And one day I’ll get out of this goddamn chair, too. I don’t care what the fucking doctors say. I’ve been researching stem cell surgery, and I’ve been in touch with a couple of doctors who are willing to take a look at me starting this week.
Being in this house helps. As much as I miss my mother every second that I’m here, familiarity is a good thing. I can’t imagine renovating the old house to fit my needs. This is way better. It’s just like my mom is here with me, helping me through the pain. She never let a wheelchair get in her way. That woman was more independent than some walking people that I know. If mother knew what I’ve gotten myself into though, she wouldn’t be very proud of me. As Amelia is out for one of her walks, I’m draining a bottle of vodka in my office. My driver dropped me at home about a half an hour ago, and in that time, I’ve drank half the bottle. I’ll sleep on the couch in here; Amelia doesn’t have to know about my drinking. She thinks I’ve stopped. The damn doctors let her know what my blood alcohol level was at the time of the accident, and now the cat’s out of the bag.
Inside my office, I have a full view of the front of the house. The blinds are down but the slats are open, so I can see. The rain has calmed in the last half hour, but I can still hear the eavestroughs draining from the roof. A blue umbrella catches my eye, approaching the front of the house. Looking closer, I see that my wife is under it…with another man. They’re standing quite close…I mean, I know that they’re under an umbrella, but they’re close enough to kiss each other. Feeling my blood boil, I draw in a deep breath.
But then I think back to the other night, when I heard Amelia moaning, writhing in her sleep, having some very erotic dream. I’ve heard her many times, and it’s a little unsetting. That part of me shut down so many years ago. Up until the accident, things still worked, mechanically speaking, but the interest is long gone. I’ve had many women throw themselves at me, but I always know it’s because of my money. This young man is very built; I wouldn’t want to mess with him. I watch him walk her to the front door. Lord knows if they’re kissing…no, Amelia wouldn’t do such a thing in public. She wouldn’t so much as give me more than a feathery kiss in front of our family during our wedding ceremony.
She comes in the door and I wheel myself out to her. “Hi, sweetie.” She says and she seems genuinely pleased to see me. No woman can be having an affair if they can put such a pleasant smile on their face at the sight of their husband. Unless it’s pasted on. But Amelia isn’t that type. She’s for real. That’s what I love about her.
“Hi.” I say, and she bends down to kiss my cheek. “Who was that…bringing you home?”
“Oh, he lives up the street. His name is Dalton. I got caught in the rain, so he walked me home.
I pick up on the faint smell of beer. “Were you drinking?”
“Oh, yes, I’d completely forgotten. He offered me a beer when it was pouring out. I figured I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so I obliged.”
We’ve only lived here for a few weeks…how has Amelia become so comfortably acquainted with someone so quickly? “Do you know him from somewhere?”
She frowns and shrugs. “No. He has the sweetest little dog named Dasher. I pet him one day when we first moved here, and his owner introduced himself. He’s very nice.”
“He seems nice…to walk you home and offer you a beer.” I try to keep the edge out of my tone, but Amelia picks up on it.
“Aaron…the man is nine years younger than me, and his girlfriend lives with him. Plus, and the most important part is, I’ve been married to you for seventeen years.” She tries to keep the edge out of her voice, but I know her too well…I can hear it.
“I hear you at night.” I blurt, unable to stop myself.
She’s taking her shoes off, and she looks at me. “What do you mean?”
“The dreams. I hear you. I heard you the other night.”
Amelia is silent. Her eyes are focused on a spot on the floor. “I can’t control them, Aaron.” She’s humiliated. Her voice cracks. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“The man lusts for you. And it won’t be long before you lust for him, if you don’t already.”
Her eyes are like daggers. “How…dare you.” She seethes. “I have been faithful to you since the day we met. I haven’t as much as thought about another man, no matter how much you’ve neglected me for the last ten years. Don’t you ever accuse me of lusting after another man. As much as it pains me to say it right now, I love you, and I would never betray you, Aaron.”
She’s about to run to the bedroom, and I grab her arm to stop her. “I know.” I say, my voice is a mere whisper. “That was my point, Amelia.”
Her eyes meet mine. I continue. “I know you would never lust for another man, and I kept putting our intimate life off, telling myself that we would get back to the way things were once this was accomplished, and once that goal was met, but it never happened, and it’s my fault. Now it’s too late. I can’t ever please you again, Amelia.”
Gently tearing her arm out of my grasp, she purses her lips together. “Are you trying to twist the dagger in my back, Aaron?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Then what are you getting at? What are you trying to prove with this conversation?”
I lick my lips. “Just that I would understand if…if you were to seek…attention from someone else.”
She’s no fool. She knows that this is a trap. I’ve used this reverse-psychology tactic many times on potential business associates.
“You sicken me, Aaron. Really. I thought you hit an all-time low when I learned about your blood-alcohol level the night of the accident. But this is the lowest of the low.” She draws in a breath. “Every day you are farther and farther away from the man I fell in love with. I know he’s in there somewhere, and as God is my witness, I know one day he’ll resurface.” She walks away from me and my heart sinks.
Amelia would never betray me. She’s loved me since before I had money, and she’s never asked for a dime of it. That woman has worked all her life and has supported herself. I’ve never so much as bought her a piece of jewelry besides her wedding and engagement rings, and they’re both worth no more than a local weekend getaway. I’ve crossed a line, and I know it. Wheeling myself into the bedroom, following her, I hear that she’s crying. “Hey,” my voice is low. “Come here.”
She comes over to me and I pat my lap for her to sit down. “I’ll hurt you.”
“I can’t feel anything, Amelia. It’s impossible to hurt me.” I pat my lap again. Slowly, gingerly, she plants her rear on my lap. Her body is so tiny that she fits on the wheelchair without a challenge. Wrapping my arms around her, I kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry…for this. You’re right. You would never betray me.”
Her arms wrap around my neck and she hugs me gently. It’s a little awkward, but we manage. “It’s okay, Aaron. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t…torture you like that.”
She sniffs and looks at me. “Aaron…have you been drinking?”
I look down, ashamed. “Yeah. I have. I’m sorry.”
“Baby, you really need to go to AA. This is a problem.”
“Look, I told you I don’t want to go there. I told you I’d stop.” My voice raises an octave. Amelia leaps out of my lap.
“Yet you still are, Aaron. You can’t keep doing this. I thought you of all people would stop. What about the business? What about if anyone finds out that you’ve been drinking? Have you ever thought about that?” she’s not quite yelling. “Do you want to throw it all away, after how hard you’ve worked, and after how much you’ve sacrificed?”
I’m quiet for a moment, and then I lose my temper when she starts to speak again. “No! Of course not! But that’s not going to happen, Amelia! Nobody knows that I drink, dammit! Nobody except you! And you said that you would never betray me!”
“Well, if you don’t stop drinking…” she trails off.
I lift my head. “Are you threatening me?”
She shakes her head no. Her nostrils are flaring. “Just…stop.” Her arm raises as she walks away, into the ensuite bathroom, and closes the door.
My heart is pounding. Amelia has never threatened me.
…will she follow through?
Chapter 11
Dalton
After dropping Amelia off at home, I go home and pound down a few more beers. With a light buzz, I go up to bed, alone. Starting to think about what Amelia said regarding Kathy. I think she’s right, but it’s still odd how she went out to breakfast with her ex-husband, and she’s been gone all day and night. I mean…what’s up with that? I assume she’s discussed what happened with Peter with her sister; so I’m imagining that I’ll never know what transpired. Question is: do I really want to know, anyway? Something tells me that no, I don’t want to know.
Kathy will probably end up telling me eventually. But in the meantime, I’ll leave it up to her. As I lay in bed, I feel myself drifting off, finally.
Her hands slide up my shirt, skating over the skin of my belly and chest, not skipping an inch. Lifting my arms, I follow her lead and let her take my shirt off. As I stand there, naked from the waist up, she looks at me like I’m a unicorn; a thing of mystery and intrigue, drinking in my body. Reaching for the hem of her shirt, my hands glide up the back, as I try to be a gentleman, even though we both know I’m hard as a rock behind the zipper. Bringing her hands to the bottom of her shirt, she pulls it over her head, revealing her lacy bra underneath.
As much as I try not to look, my eyes go straight to her body. Tracing a finger over the flesh flowing over her bra, I watch her rear her head back and draw in a deep breath, as if begging me to touch her more. Bending down, I kiss her flesh slowly, taking a little in my mouth with each pass, cupping her breasts in my hands, and then with my thumbs, I stroke her nipples through the material, and she gasps, turning my cock to steel. Her pert nipples poke up through her bra, and I sheath my teeth with my lips, gently nipping them over her bra.
She reaches down to my fly, unzips it, and undoes the top button. Mirroring her actions, I do the same to her, only I boldly push my hands inside, onto her hips, bringing her pants down, and feeling her lacy thong underneath. When her pants reach the floor, she steps out of them, and she slides my pants down. In the darkness, I push her to the wall, kissing her wildly, making her instantly breathless. My tongue plunges inside her open mouth, as I push my rock hard cock into her from over her panties, hitting her right in the apex. A moan escapes her throat, as I break contact with her lips and find her neck, kissing and sucking down its length, while cupping her breasts with each hand.
“Dalton, please.” She begs, bucking her hips against me. I swiftly slide my hands behind her, unhooking her bra, and pull her straps off, watching it fall to the floor. As I take her nipple in my mouth, I’m sliding her panties down. She’s writhing against the wall, taking it all in. Her hand finds the waistband of my briefs, and she pulls them down, freeing me. Standing straight up, my cock finds her wetness easily, as I slide inside her slowly.
“Oh…baby…you’re so wet.” I whisper to her as I start moving inside. My lips and tongue tease her nipples as I softly enter her against the wall, being careful not to push too hard. It’s sexy as hell, but I don’t want to hurt her.
“You’re so hard.” She whispers in response, rubbing my nipples, sending me to the moon and back with pleasure. All we can hear in the darkness is our own ragged breathing as I enter her in a pleasant rhythm. As I pick up speed, she kisses me, sucking my tongue and my lower lip, making me impossibly harder inside. Her body is tightening around me, yet she’s soaking wet; a strange and delicious combination, bringing me to the edge. She moans. “God, Dalton, I’m so close.”
I grasp the sides of her face and my eyes suddenly adjust to the darkness. I notice her face looks different. It’s not Kathy…it’s…
My eyes open wide as I wake up with my hand around my dick. It’s instinctively moving up and down. My cock is soaked with precum and I can feel my seed coming up from my balls. “Jesus…fuck!” I grunt, keeping up the rhythm. It’s too late to stop. An involuntary gasp escapes my throat as I explode in my hand and all over the sheets. “Jesus Christ!” I pant as I realize I’ve just jerked off to the image of my neighbor’s face in my dream. Looking over, I remember at least that Kathy isn’t here. God, how embarrassing would that be? Not that she shouldn’t expect that; we’ve barely had sex since she moved in. Something about moving in together kills the mood, I guess.
Sitting up, I realize I have to wash the fucking sheets. What a mess. As I gather up the bedding and throw on a pair of shorts, I take the laundry downstairs to the basement, just as I hear the doorbell. “Fuck…me.” I swear under my breath. I’m still a little winded as I look through the peephole and see that it’s my brother Jack. Opening the door, I stand back, not wanting the neighbors to see me half naked.
He laughs as he walks in the house, giving me a once-over. “What the fuck were you doing, man...jerking off?”
“Fuck off. I was putting some laundry in. I just woke up.” I shut the door. “What the fuck are you doing here so early?”
He ignores my question. “Where’s the ball and chain?”
“She stayed over at her sister’s place last night.”
Jack licks his lips. “You guys have a fight or something?”
“Not really.” I start going up the stairs. “I’m having a shower. Make some breakfast.”
Ten minutes later I join my brother in my kitchen, as we eat eggs and bacon. Jack let Dasher out the front door, and I can see him laying in the grass. “He shit already on the lawn. Make sure you don’t step in it. It’s by the tree.” Jack points out.
“Thanks. I’ll get it later.”
“So what’s the problem with Kathy?” Jack asks. “Why’d she ditch you for the night?”
I don’t really want to get into it with him, but Jack can sense something is wrong. He doesn’t let things go easily. “She went out for coffee yesterday with her ex…then she texted me to say that she was spending the day with her sister…and then she texted me again to say that they’d had a few and she wasn’t driving home.”
“Doesn’t she have to work today?”
“Shit, I had a few last night, too…and I’m working today…I don’t see the big deal.”
Jack shrugs. “She ditched you before?”
“No.”
“How’s it going living together? She seem happy?”
“I guess…” I frown. “we’re not fighting or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
“Well, that’s a good sign. What’d she go out with her ex for? They like pals or something?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t say much about him. Maybe.” Then I think that maybe I am overreacting. Maybe it’s perfectly acceptable to be friends with your ex husband.
“There’s only one way to tell that.” Jack is matter-of-fact.
I lift my chin. “How’s that?”
“How’s the sex?” he lifts a hand and re-phrases the question. “On a scale of one to ten…ten being the best sex you ever had.”
“I don’t know…like...a six?” I lie…it’s more like a three right now.
