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"I didn’t mean your pussy, but thanks for pointing that out to me."
Color flushes her cheeks. "I’m not, wet; not there."
"Liar," I say softly.
Her blush deepens. Another drop of water slides down the valley between her breasts. This time, I lean in and lick it off of her.
A moan spills from her lips. Goosebumps crawl up her décolletage. She shivers.
I straighten and peer into her features. "You’re cold."
"No, actually it was too hot in the tub. Speaking of?—"
I follow her glance and notice the packet of frozen peas in her hand. I was so captivated by her appearance, I missed it earlier.
"—I need to get this to Felix," she murmurs.
"Felix?" I frown.
"Uh, yeah, we were in the hot tub."
Something hot and nasty crawls in my chest. It’s a new emotion. One I’ve never felt before. One that takes me by surprise. Jealousy, thick and acidic and biting away at the insides of my veins. "You were with Felix, in the hot tub?"
She nods.
I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. "Together?"
"At the same time, yes."
I grind my teeth so hard, pain shoots up my jaw. I wanted to make up for my past mistakes. I wanted to make an attempt to get to know my son better, to build a relationship with him as an adult. That’s why I asked him to move in. And yes, also, so I could prove to him that what he thought he and Raven had, is nothing compared to the chemistry between her and me.
I was so filled with guilt and remorse for my past with Felix, and so overcome with the unnamable emotions I feel for her, I overlooked the most obvious outcome of my actions—they could get back together.
"Oh, please, it’s not like that," she huffs.
When I continue to glower at her, she scoffs, "Whatever. Suit yourself."
She spins around and marches back toward the deck. I follow her. She reaches the tub and when she sheds her robe, all the breath leaves my lungs. I take in the curve of her shoulders, the nip of her waist encased in the one-piece swimsuit. It’s cut high on the thighs and showcases the roundness of her butt cheeks, the lines of her calves, the delicate turn of her ankle. I never thought I had a butt fetish, until her. Nor a breast fetish, or a thigh fetish. I’ve never noticed a woman this acutely before. Truth is, I have a Raven fetish.
And while Poe inspires me, I’ve never quoted him so openly until I met her. Never felt the dark eroticism the poet embodied in his work until seeing her brought new meaning to his words. Perhaps I’ve been waiting for this woman to bring new energy into my life. To help me interpret the nuances of death, loss and grief—the three constants in my life—in a different way. For the first time, I feel there’s a reason to my existence.
A lightness to my soul comes when I’m with her. I’ve never felt this way before. She settles into the tub, on the opposite side from him. And the look on his face—bloody hell. That softness around his eyes, the slackness to his jaw, the way his muscles are rigid, and in his eyes, hopes and dreams and confusion clash. It’s an emotion I’ve often felt when I find myself watching her. When I think of her, I wonder how my life could change so quickly. When I know I’ll do anything to have her… When I know, while I’ll never give up on keeping her in my life, I have to… give her enough space to work things out.
The old me would have pressed all of my advantages home, so it’d be abundantly clear to her I'm the only one for her… But thanks to her, I know, I can no longer break my son’s heart. I hurt him enough during his growing years. And perhaps, before I met her, I wouldn't have been this sensitive to the impact my marrying her would have on him. But since she swept into my life and past my barriers, I’m more attuned to the impact of my actions on others. Strange, right?
The very reason I’d burn the world down for her also makes me more attuned to the repercussions of my behavior. And next thing you know, I’ll be discussing all this emo shit with my nephews. She’s ruining me, and she’s not even aware of it.
I pause halfway to the hot tub, and watch my son say something. I’m not close enough to hear the words over the sound of the bubbling water, but I can make out by her response that it’s an earnest conversation. She shakes her head, then jerks her chin in my direction. Felix’s lips turn down. That pouting expression is one I’ve been at the receiving end of for most of his life, and deservedly so. And once again, I’ve failed him. Once again, I’ve allowed my own needs to get in the way of being a good father.
Sure, I invited Felix to stay as long as he wants under my roof. After all, my home will always be his home, too. This could afford me enough opportunities to build a relationship with my son.
And yes, a part of me hoped that if she saw the two of us together, she’d realize I was the one for her.
But seeing them together in the hot tub, it hits me how close in age they are, how well-suited they could have been, if they'd had a chance to know each other without the pressures of money getting in the way.
So, I’m going to back away, right? I’m going to postpone the wedding and give her time to decide?
And if she wants him? Even after he stood her up at their wedding? What if she wants to give him a second chance? If she chose him over me, would I walk away?
