Her voice was raspy and low, digging up long ago buried thoughts inside my head. For months, I haven't thought about sex, or lack of it in my life, yet right there at that moment, the way that woman looked at my daughter made me pause and look, really look at her. I gripped onto the doorframe to steady myself and catch my breath. There were no thoughts of Sheri; I didn't even know there was a Sheri at that moment. There was just Addison, snuggling close to a beautiful woman. What my family should look and feellike…
Lush lips—slightly parted, kneeling in front of me.Stop. Stop. Stop. What thehell?
Callie’s eyes looked up and met mine, and for a brief second we stayed and stared at each other withoutwords.
“Hey,” she whispered, slipping out of Addison’sbed.
“You’re pretty good at this,huh?”
I didn't know what to say. I was confused and tired and unfocused, and all I wanted was for my wife to be here and be as good and healthy as this woman was who was standing beforeme.
She looked wide-eyed at me and slid soundlessly toward me. “I, uh. No, well…I’ve never done this before.” Her voice was low and exquisitely distracting, as if sweetness had a sound. There was a sharp, unidentifiable tug in mychest.
I backed up against the wall of the hallway. My head spun. I was half-dreaming, half-sleeping.
“You okay?” sheasked.
Her voice was sexy, seducing. I wanted to hear it whisper my name. Damn Frank and the rest of the guys for making me think of her like thisnow.
I looked up above Addison’s nightstand, toward the crucifix Sheri hung on the wall. This is shit. What the hell is happening to me right now? I was a man; that was it. A fucking human being, and it was natural to want another human being, especially since I'd forgone being inside one for so damn long. And I was tired. Half-asleep.
How often had I dreamt of this calmness in my house? It was all just misleading and confusing. I was in shock from what happened yesterday, overexerted anddrained.
She shifted a bit, walked closer, and the hint of strawberries filled my senses. I moved a bit, too, unconsciously, my body suddenly aware of every move she made. She was wearing a very tight T-shirt and a pair of those skin tight leggings that hid nothing of her perfect figure. I staggered away like a fourteen-year-old as the all the blood in my body rushed to mygroin.
Jesus, I wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe just a hug to thankher?
What the fuck was wrong withme?
I sounded like acreeper.
I just neededsleep.
“Tired. Very tired, and I’m starting to see shit that isn’tthere.”
There, that explained it. Now, hopefully the woman will move away and take her tits and ass withher.
It was just the emotional and shitty mental state I was in, the crap I went through in the last twenty-four hours. The things the guys said to me, the things I saw my wife go through, it was all insanely raw and fresh and making me feel out of my damn mind. I had self-control, and right now, yeah, it felt like a thin line that kept me from reaching out and touching her, but it wasn’t real. None of this was real. My wife would get better. My kids would be fine, and I...I would be fine. We’d get back to where we were, where we were all supposed to be, and then we'd behappy.
“Are youhungry?”
She was closer now, smiling up at me, giving me a questioninglook.
I had no idea what the fuck was going on. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” My words sounded breathless and achy, but she didn’t seem tonotice.
She walked past me, through the doorway, and headed for the kitchen. I trailed after the scent of strawberries and watched her point to therefrigerator.
“I made a turkey meatloaf with baked potatoes and greenbeans.”
My entire body combusted into flames, and I collapsed into one of the kitchenchairs.
"You? You cookeddinner?"
My expression must have looked mortified—Sheri had never—not even once in our entire relationship cooked medinner.
“Forme?”
She burst into a fit of giggles. The sound was intoxicating.Shit, this wasn’t going to end well, wasit?
