Untimely You (15 page)

“I can’t admit to that, Nees. I’m a coward.”

I sigh. “You’re not a coward. You’re strong to have come this far. But Adrian? Maybe you should consider calling hospice.”

I’m shocked into silence when his hand seizes my throat and grips me tight. Tears spring in my eyes but I don’t fight him. He’s pissed. I just told him he needs to let his wife die. It’s the humane thing to do—it has nothing to do with me wanting to move into her slot.

I’d want someone to do it for me.

Chrissy was a good woman and this is no life for her.

“How can you say that?” he hisses, tightening his grip. “I love her!”

Stars glitter in my vision as my breaths come out in tiny gasps. I bring a palm to his cheek and run my thumb over it to swipe away the wetness from his tears. After another moment, he releases me and his hands are all over my face.

“Are you okay? Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me?” he bellows, the pain in his voice evident. His warm body tears from mine.

“You’re upset. Shhh,” I rasp out. “Let me hold you.”

“God, I’m so sorry.” His mouth finds my neck and he kisses what will most likely be bruises tomorrow. The worshipful nature that he tends to me with has my heart connecting to his in a way it never has before.

“It’s time to stop being sorry, Adrian.”

I
shouldn’t have asked her to stay. I should have sent her back home and wallowed in my grief alone. But I couldn’t.

Neesy is the cause of most of my stress. My temptation. My other woman.

Yet…

She’s also my comfort in this dark time of need. The one who’s there to hold me and promise it’ll all be okay while the one I’m married to is no longer able to offer me the same comfort.

It’s complicated and confusing. But being here in her arms feels right.

“I can’t leave her,” I murmur against the flesh of her neck. “Please don’t ask me to.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Her words seem to pour gasoline on the flames inside my head, and soon the fire that is her ravages all thought—she burns through my mind like a thousand forest fires, singeing all of the pain and self-loathing in the process.

My lips seek out hers, brushing over them slightly. “This feels wrong, but you heal me somehow.”

“I don’t want you to hurt.”

My lips crush with hers and I kiss her. My tongue pushes between her lips and soon we’re nipping and sucking on each other.

“I want to get lost in you—I want to forget. You make me forget.”

She threads her fingers into my hair and tugs me from her mouth. “I don’t want you to forget. But I can be your escape.”

I press forward and steal her mouth again. “I want to fuck it all away, Nees.”

Another moan that drives me further into the abyss of nothing.

“Make love to me.”

I rip her clothes away piece by piece. Mine somehow get shed along the way. And soon, I’m driving into her. My mouth finds her neck and I suck on her until I’m sure I’ve bruised her even more. Everything fades away when I’m inside of her. Nothing makes sense yet it all makes sense.

She’s stripping away the very pieces of armor that make up who I am.

“Adrian!”

My name on her lips startles me back to the present and I crash my lips to hers. “So fucking tight. All mine.”

She shudders, as if my words alone can bring her to orgasm, and soon her sweet pussy clenches around my dick. I thrust and thrust until everything around me blackens with the pleasure her body brings me.

“Jesus!” I hiss out as I explode inside of her. My cock throbs as my heat fills every part of her. The desire to mark her with the very piece of my being is overwhelming.

I collapse onto her sweaty body but don’t pull out of her. I crave to prolong the connection. To not ever sever myself from the wild beating heart beneath me.

“You fuck like a madman.”

Her voice. So fucking cute.

“I’m attracted to crazy, what can I say?”

She chuckles and my dick flinches. Her laugh undoes me every time. As I start to fall asleep, I wonder if I should move. But her arms are wrapped around me as if she’s afraid I’ll leave her while she sleeps. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Don’t forget about me in the morning,” she murmurs.

My heart stops. When her breaths even out with sleep, I relax and utter my response. “I will never forget about you.”

The late morning sun shines in through the window and startles me awake. Shit, I overslept. My intentions were to be up at the hospital at eight this morning, and it’s clearly closer to noon.

Neesy’s naked body is wrapped around me and it kills me to have to move her. In a perfect world, I could simply close my eyes and go back to sleep. Sleep the day away with my crazy lover and fuck her until evening without a care in the world. We’d never have to leave this bed or face the real world.

But this is not a perfect world.

“Morning,” she rasps out.

I freeze for a moment. Sneaking out isn’t an option, so I lightly stroke her lips with my fingertips. “Morning. I slept too late.”

Her lips find my neck and I do close my eyes, greedy for a few lingering moments with her. “We only need three more minutes,” she teases, her hot breath sending currents of need straight to my morning wood.

“Three minutes, my ass,” I say with a playful growl as I push her onto her back. I’m inside of her before she has a chance to reply and take her mouth with mine.

Her fingers scratch and claw at me as I pound into her. I hadn’t meant to fuck her again but I’m becoming addicted to her. All it took was hearing her voice and I was done for. Neesy has always messed with my head and I can’t exactly say I’m annoyed by that notion. In fact, I like it despite the wrongness of it.

“Yes,” she moans and arches her back.

I’m just moving her legs over my shoulders to take her deeper when the front door slams. Her startled eyes meet mine.

“It’s probably Yvette—”

The door swings open, and the pretty glass bubble I’d been pretending in with Neesy hits the ground. And shatters.

“Dad?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck!

“Dame, it’s not what you—”
It’s not what you think. But it is.

The door slams shut and I jerk out of Neesy.

“Oh no!” she squeaks out. “I didn’t know he was coming home.”

“He was supposed to arrive after his finals—at dinner time. Fuck!” I climb out of the bed and start pulling clothes on. “Shit. I have to talk to him.”

She nods and slides out of the bed, making a beeline for the shower. “I’ll get cleaned up and head out.”

I sigh and give her a small smile. It’s not her fault, but I saw the shame in her eyes—the sheer horror at having been sleeping with Damien’s married father. When we’re in our own little world, nothing else matters. But in reality, everything else matters but us.

“After you’re showered and dressed, I’ll walk you out.”

She disappears into the bathroom, and I hurry from the room. Thumping bass can be heard from Damien’s room, and I scrub my face with my palm in frustration before knocking on his door.

“What?”

“Can we talk over breakfast?”

The music shuts off and the door opens. My son won’t make eye contact with me as he shoulders past me toward the kitchen. I follow after him and am thankful to see Yvette mixing up some pancake batter. After I wave to Yvette, I go with him into the dining room and sit.

“Damien, listen…”

“Dad, stop.”

“I thought you would be here later and—”

“I was able to take my finals early. After I told my professor Mom was in the hospital again, he let me take it early. Here I am, just in time to watch you fuck some chick.” He picks at a frayed hole in his jeans and my chest aches. Even though my boy is every bit of a man, his jawline strong and nose proud exactly like mine, he’s still my little guy who used to climb all over my lap and ask me millions of questions about outer space and other shit I never had the answers to. And now, just like then, I wish I did have the answers. To make life make a little more sense to him.

“Neesy is my employee and—”

His head snaps up and he glares at me. “You hired a whore?”

“What? No! I hired her to read to your mother.” I swallow the guilt down and frown. “We just…I just…”

“Do you love her?”

“What? Absolutely not. No, Dame, I don’t love her.”

His brows furrow together and he shakes his head. “So you’re just fucking her for the fun of it? Because Mom can’t?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and groan. I certainly don’t want to talk about this with my kid, but it’s happening and there’s no escaping it. “No, I like her, okay? She’s not your mother but she’s been a great friend—”

“I’ll say.”

A crash sounds from the living room followed by Neesy’s high-pitched
I’m okay
. Damien’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. Another second later, she bounces into the room and it warms several degrees. His eyes dart over to her and he watches her coldly.

She rubs her elbow and plops down beside him. “Everything should be carpeted. Just saying. Hardwood floors are hazardous.”

Damien’s lips twitch but he doesn’t respond.

“I’m Bernice Noble.”

He smiles, and it does something to my heart. Appears I’m not the only one affected by this crazy woman. Her dark hair is sopping wet and pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. She’s wearing the same hoodie and jeans from yesterday but her face is scrubbed clean. From over here, they look closer in age than she and I are. The thought startles me.

“Bernice. That’s horrible.”

“Tell me about it. I guess it could be worse. I could be named after the devil.”

He lets out a chuckle while I huff out my defense. “Neesy, it means to tame or subdue.”

Her eyes widen and she leans toward Damien, whispering loud enough for me to hear. “How long you been buying that line?”

He beams, a smile I remember far too well from his childhood, and his eyes shine. I know the shine. I’ve seen it in the mirror recently. The woman captivates people.

“I’d kind of like to think I’m a badass devil’s son.”

She laughs, such a sweet fucking sound. “You’re the devil’s son alright,” she says and flicks her gaze to me. “But besides that, I think you’re a badass simply because you’re wearing an Edgar Allan Poe shirt.
I’m just a Poe boy from a Poe family
? You know Poe or are you a Poe-ser?”

I can’t help but chuckle. My crazy, crazy woman is charming my son as easily as she charmed me.

“I’m an English major,” he says with a smirk. “Of course I know Poe. Question is, do you know Poe?”

She picks at her nail a second before winking at him. “I’m Poe-tentially the most knowledgeable Poe-son you know.”

A bellow of laughter escapes me and I can’t keep the smile from my face. Neesy makes people happy. She makes them laugh. She puts their needs before hers. She’s perfect.

The thought sobers me, and I’m glad when Yvette shuffles into the room carrying plates. It’s a distraction from how my heart thumps for her. She fits in here—she belongs. I watch her mouth move as she chats with Damien and my heart sinks into my stomach as reality seeps back in.

She’s not my wife.

She’s not his mother.