Untimely You (8 page)

She’s so…
alive.

The thought is a sucker punch to my gut. Chrissy remains attached to tubes because of me. She deserved to move on. Instead, out of my own selfishness, I held on to her. Held on to hope.

“Your turn, Wacko,” she says with a slight slur, dragging me from my thoughts of Chrissy.

Neesy has twisted her long, dark locks into a messy bun on top of her head revealing her pale neck. My fingers crave to touch her. With me sitting so closely on the couch beside her, I could easily run my fingertips along her throat. And that thought fucks with my head. Maybe I’m just drunk. But what excused my need to touch her all of the other times today?

“’Replayed.’ Wait, how many points is that?” I question and lean forward.

She giggles, and I swear to God my cock twitches at the sound. “One hundred seventeen. You totally opened me up around those triple word squares with your simple ‘play.’”

I grumble and attempt to make sense of my letters, which are now blurring in front of me. Perhaps choosing whiskey to drown out my bewildering thoughts about this woman was a bad idea.

“I think you cheated,” I tell her with a growl.

“What? I got that one fair and square,” she gripes and stands on wobbly feet.

I find myself skimming my gaze down her outfit and admiring the swell of her ass in that dress. This woman is definitely fucking with my head. “Where do you think you’re going?”

She scoops up her purse and shoes, heading toward the front door on uncoordinated feet. If she was clumsy before, she’s a fucking bull in a china shop now. I jerk to my feet and trot after her.

“Neesy, you’re not going anywhere.”

My words seem to spur her on and she hurries away from me. She stumbles, not seeing the step up into the entryway, and falls hard. Her purse hits the floor and her stuff scatters everywhere.

“Shit! Are you okay?” My heart rate pulses wildly out of control as I drop to my knees beside her and roll her over onto her back. Her hazel eyes droop and she chews on her lip. I haul her unsteady ass to her feet but don’t release the slight woman from my grasp. It feels too damn good to touch her.

“I didn’t cheat,” she says with a quiver of her bottom lip.

She’s so fucking cute that I do the unthinkable. Leaning forward, I tug her lip away from her teeth with my thumb and then kiss her, softly at first. The whiskey somehow tastes sweeter on her and for a brief moment, all I can think about is her. Her tongue darts out, unsure almost, and dances with mine. My cock jolts as if finally being awoken from over a decade of slumber and I devour her mouth.

I stumble with her in my arms until she hits the wall behind her. My hands roam her curvaceous body as I deepen our kiss. Right now, I can’t think about anything except her.

Her hot, ragged breaths.

Her softy, needy mewls.

The way her fingernails thread into my hair and scratch my scalp.

So receptive.

With greedy fingers, I find the hem of her dress and shove it up her hips. I then lift her and she hooks her long legs around my waist. My cock, now so fucking eager, grinds against her pussy through her panties and I nearly blow my load right then.

Our kiss is no longer a kiss but instead a man trying to devour the first woman he’s tasted in over a decade. I’m starving for her. The need to touch every part of her is overwhelming. I am completely blinded by it. One of my eager palms squeezes her breast through her dress while the other desperate one rubs along her smooth, curvy hip in search of her ass. Everything about her is alive and so worthy of the worship of a man.

I’ll fall to her feet and kiss every last part of her.

The need to do so swallows me whole.

“It’s been so long since I’ve held a woman. I’m desperate to have you,” I mutter against her lips. “I
need
to fuck you.”

“Mmm hmmm.”

Her whispered agreement is enough to have me stalking with her in my arms toward my bedroom. Once inside the room, I set her to her feet and yank at her sexy dress while she rips at the buttons on my shirt. I manage to get her out of her panties and to get my pants pushed down my thighs. She falls against the bed and I grip my cock to enter her.

But then I make the mistake of looking over at my nightstand.

Blonde hair and blue eyes stare back at me.

No.

Shit!

What the fuck am I doing?

I attempt to drive the pain away and focus on Neesy but the moment is gone. My cock softens and my heart breaks. What kind of sick, cheating bastard am I?

“Oh God,” I hiss out.

Neesy sits up on her elbows and watches me in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

I run a hand through my messy hair and sway. I feel like an ass with my pants hanging at my knees staring at the beautiful woman who wants me to fuck her. A harsh sob chokes me and she blurs from my unshed tears.

“I can’t…Jesus, I can’t…”

She stares back at me, her eyes big as saucers. I expect her to scream or slap me or something to confirm what a fucking prick I am. What I don’t expect is for her to stand right up, close the distance between us, and hug me. Her slender arms slip around my middle and she buries her cheek against my chest.

“It’s okay, Adrian. I’ve got you. We made a mistake—you’re drunk. Let’s get you to sleep.”

My thoughts turn black with self-loathing and self-hatred. I’m barely aware of her as she undresses me and helps me into bed.

“I should go,” she whispers once the covers are pulled up over my bare chest.

I’m exhausted and overwrought from emotion but I’m not senseless. “No, you’ve been drinking. Just stay.”

She sighs and starts away.

“Here. Please.”

I begin to drift off but watch with half-lidded eyes as she unzips her dress and it falls to the floor, baring her naked flesh to me. My cock thickens again and it only makes me hate myself more. Thankfully, she disappears into the closet and returns wearing a white T-shirt I use under dress shirts.

She crawls into bed beside me and wraps an arm over me. “You’re a terrible friend, Wacko.”

I smile despite my distraught haze. “So are you, Crazy.”

A crack of thunder wakes me and a moan from beside me soothes my brittle soul.
Chrissy.
Sometimes I dream the accident never happened. We talk and make love. Things are as they should be.

I never want to wake up.

In the darkness, I trail my fingertips up her taut belly under her shirt toward her breasts. They rise and fall evenly as she sleeps. I cup one in my hand and swipe my thumb over her small nipple. It hardens in response and I crave to taste it. Her shirt has to go so I all but tear it from her ripe body. Something topples over with a crash on the nightstand the moment the shirt makes impact.

My mouth finds hers and I kiss her gently. Her taste lingers with the alcohol she consumed earlier, and I want to get drunk from it. She moans into my mouth when I push her knee away and climb on top of her.

I just want to make love to her.

For once, I want it to be real.

My cock rubs against her clit and she whimpers. “Adrian, stop.”

Stop.

The words make me want to go, not stop.

Go, go, go until she’s screaming my name in ecstasy.

“Shhh,” I murmur and grip my cock, prepared to enter her.

Her hands press against my chest. “Adrian, no.”

I jerk away from her and sit on my haunches. “Why the fuck not?”

She sniffles in the dark. “Because I’m not her.”

I’m. Not. Her.

“Goddammit,” I growl and fall onto my chest beside her. My cock is still thick and erect beneath me, the traces of my wife still lingering in the air.

Fingernails lightly trail in circles on my back and I marginally relax. Tonight has been fucking awful.

“You’re not a bad person, you know,” Neesy whispers from beside me.

The words blanket me and my eyes droop. Her touch is delicate and I don’t want her to stop.

Dark hair covers the pillow and her bare shoulder peeks out from beneath the sheet. Those sheets have always had blonde covering them. Never brown. As the sun rises, I sit on the edge of the bed and stare.

Last night was stupid.

A horrible fucking mistake.

My plan now is to fire her. To send her away from not only this house, but my company too. In my life, I don’t need temptations to fuck up my head any more than it already is. I need order. Routine. Normalcy.

And I need to stay true to the woman I lost almost twelve years ago.

My stomach roils and I quickly sip my coffee to keep from throwing up. While my coffee was brewing, I went into Chrissy’s room and spoke with the nurse. Chrissy was doing fine as usual. I’d sent the nurse away for a break in hopes that I could have a moment alone with my wife. My intentions were to come clean to her and apologize. However, as I sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her blonde hair from her forehead, I couldn’t do it. I could not fucking do it.

Deep down, I believe she can hear me. And I was too much of a coward to admit what I’d done. That I was too weak and craved the touch of a woman so badly I couldn’t think straight. It had nothing to do with Neesy—I think given the conditions, it could have been Yvette and I’d have been ready to fuck her. After close to twelve years of no sex, my body sort of took over, telling my head to shut the hell up.

I’d almost slept with another woman.

Chrissy would have felt so betrayed.

My stomach groans once more as bile rises in my throat. I may have not pushed my dick into her, but I most certainly cheated on my wife. Last night, I wanted Neesy so badly. Her mouth, so eager and sweet. The way her soft curves responded to my touch. How she’d whimper and whine with need.

I was so close to fucking her.

So goddamn close.

But she stopped me. And I’m thankful for her denial in my time of weakness.

“Mmm,” Neesy grumbles, startling me from my self-hatred. “Whiskey sucks ass.”

“Here,” I say with a grunt and toss her the T-shirt from last night. “Put this on.”

We remain silent as she redresses. Once she’s finished, I sneak a look at her. The white material does nothing to hide her perfectly round tits. Her dark pink nipples are hard and at attention, too visible beneath the shirt. My gaze lingers for a brief moment before I look into my coffee mug to keep from gawking at her like a horny teenage boy.

“We need to talk about last night,” I tell her, my voice gruff.

She squints at me. “Now? Like right now?”

“Yes. Last night was—”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Her full lips drag into a shameful frown. It quickens my heart rate and guilt punishes me from the inside out.

“It was my fault. I should have never have kissed you,” I mutter.

She shrugs and takes my mug from my hand, causing jolts of electricity to zap through me. Her touch maddens me. I can’t think straight when her flesh connects with mine.

“Don’t act like you’re a monster, Adrian,” she murmurs and sips my coffee. “Ew, gross. Next time add more cream.”

My lips quirk up in a half smile despite the situation. “That coffee was for me, not you. Anyway, I’m a fucking cheater prick of a husband.”

She frowns. “You’ve gone a long time without the touch of your wife. Your circumstances are different. Don’t beat yourself up. And it’s my fault anyway. I’ve been attracted to you from the second I first saw you at the office. But I’m not trying to steal you from your…situation.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a ragged sigh. “I made a vow to her almost twenty years ago that I’d be there for her in sickness and in health. I broke that vow, Nees.”

She reaches over and squeezes my thigh through my slacks. I jerk away from her before my cock decides to get frisky again and I rise to my feet.

“I can’t do this,” I hiss out. “I need you to leave.”

She goes silent again, and I can feel her eyes on me. “When do you want me to come back?”

I run my fingers through my hair and pin her with a firm glare. “I don’t. I need you gone from my life. I’ll have HR set you up with a nice severance package and—”

She sits up on her knees and reaches for me. “What? No! I need this job, Adrian. Please.”