My hips jerked wildly off the bed, and my breathing hitched in excitement. I hadn’t been touched this way in a long time, and certainly not by myself. It felt so good as the image of Deuce crashed against the back of my eyelids.
I was surprised that Ethan wasn’t the face that I saw, and I quickly brushed that thought aside to be dealt with later. At the moment, I just wanted and needed to feel, to be filled up, and to explore this intense eroticism.
I could feel my pussy throbbing against my fingers as my arousal grew and my genitalia became swollen with blood. I pushed my hips up, eagerly chasing the orgasm that I hadn’t felt in a long time. My chest ached as my heart pounded loudly inside of it, and my body clenched into one tight muscle.
I could not recall how long it had been since I had sex. It hadn’t been that long ago that I recalled my husband and I had been separated the day of the accident, but I couldn’t quite recall all the details of why we were separated.
I was sure that it had something to do with his cheating because that had been a problem in the past. He hadn’t been a serial cheater during marriage, but whenever we broke up, he had cheated. I had ignored Liam’s warning, initially, about Ethan’s cheating. But after we were married, the subject came upagain, and it was confirmed that he had cheated while we were in college on multiple occasions. That discovery had created a serious divide in our marriage that resulted in a separation.
Tears squeezed from the corners of my eyes as I pushed Ethan from my mind and welcomed Deuce’s face. I rocked my head sideways and tried to squelch my shriek as I came violently, soaking my fingers the way that I wished I had soaked Deuce’s fingers, or lips, . . . or his dick.
I relaxed into the mattress with my fingers still between my thighs and partially resting inside of my pussy. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath and come down from that intense high. I giggled when I thought about what I had done—but it wasn’t long before reality hit me in the face.
He had been the one to stop the kiss last night and release me. I had caught him off guard during an emotional moment. Maybe Deuce wasn’t as into me as I was into him. Sure, he made the argument about our age, but I wondered if it was more to it than that.
I wasn’t sure what he had been going through, but whatever it was had him in a bad place. I had never seen him so weak, so empty, and so hurt. I wanted to do something to make him feel better, but I also wanted him so desperately. Going to him was more to ease his pain, but getting in that shower was all about easing mine.
I climbed out of the bed and headed into the shower and washed my body and hair. When I stepped out of the shower and back into my bedroom, the delicious aroma of cinnamon, vanilla, and something savory scented the air.
I dressed as quickly as possible, determined that since I had no plans to go anywhere today, I would maneuver the house without my cane. When I went into the kitchen, I found Deuce standing at the stove with his back to me.
He was plating his food, and I saw another plate on the counter beside the skillet of eggs. His basketball shorts rode low on his hips, and he wore a black T-shirt. On his feet were black ankle socks and some Nikaj slides.
“Good morning,” I called out hesitantly, unsure how he would respond to me after my aggressive behavior last night.
He glanced over his shoulder and beamed a beautiful smile my way. “Good morning. I was just getting ready to check to see if you were awake. I made us some breakfast.”
“Thank you. I’m starving.” I gripped the edge of the breakfast bar as I rounded it to bring myself into the kitchen.
He glanced back at me again in a double-take and angled his head to the side.
“Where’s your cane? You didn’t have it last night either.” Deuce set the plate aside and grabbed the other one.
“In my bedroom. I decided to challenge myself more, especially when I’m at home. I want to try not relying on it as much. I think it’s handicapped me. Pun intended,” I added with a wink.
He shook his head and chuckled. Turning back to his plate, he replied, “And she has a sense of humor. Who knew? Have a seat. I’ll bring your plate to you.”
“What are we having?”
“Oatmeal, French toast, eggs, and strawberries.”
“Sounds delicious. I’m starving.”
Deuce grabbed both plates and set them on the breakfast bar and then returned to grab the carafe of orange juice and two glasses.
He sat at the breakfast bar with me, and I prayed over our food before we both dug in.
“It’s time for me to make some changes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
He looked up with alert awareness. “Like what?” he asked with a frown as he spooned some oatmeal into his mouth.
“My disability on my job will end soon, and I’ll have to make some decisions about what I’m going to do about income.”
“I don’t think you’re ready to return to work. They haven’t given you a release anyway. Besides, I’ve got your back, especially if you’re not ready to return.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t want to return to doing that particular job. Being a geriatric social worker reminds me too much of Grammy, and I cannot handle that particular pain right now, not at work.”
“What do you want to do?”
