Page 50 of Crusher

I blink, then blink again as the picture comes to mind, making me tense and suddenly feel dirty. I go to move, but sensing the change in my body, Hayes quickly climbs up my body and slams his lips against mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth. He forces me to taste myself while he lifts my left leg and places his cock at my entrance.

“Condom,” I choke out as I break the kiss, and he growls like I offended him, like seriously?

The man cheated for Christ's sake!

“You are my wife, I will never fucking use a condom with you,” he snaps, and I open my mouth to remind him of his past transgressions, but he thrusts forward hard. I choke out a gasp as he fills me to the freaking brim.

Holy…

“Shit, baby,” Hayes croaks as he places his face into the crease of my neck, “you’re tight…”

“That tends to happen when the last person I slept with is currently putting me at risk of a possible STD,” I breathe as I grip his hair, happy he never cut it as he threatened in the voicemails if I didn’t return.

“I’ve been celibate for eight years,” he admits, making me tense, “I told you, I fucking love you, and I won’t lose you again.”

That said, he slams his lips against mine again and shoves his tongue into my mouth. I melt, once again, like an idiot and as soon as he moves his hips back then thrusts forward hard and slow, making love to me, I wrap my legs around his waist. I allow myself this, allow him to make love to me, not once, not twice, but three times before we pass out.

I can regret this in the morning and then figure my life out while ensuring my mother doesn’t hear that I’m back in town.

Right?

Chapter 23

Crusher – A Week Later

“I’ve missed working with you,” Lola rasps as she drives out of the station, and I roll my eyes looking out the window.

I don’t want to be here and certainly not with a woman who, even now, after working together for six years, won’t take no as a fucking answer.

As soon as I began my career and was placed in this region, she fucking latched onto me.

She knows I’m married, she just doesn’t give a fuck. When I came in for my shift today, I was fucking pissed to see she’d rearranged the schedule so she’d be on my team.

Fucking patch chasers.

“What have you been up to?” she asks, and I silently groan, already seeing that this is going to be a long fucking day, and my mood is already sour.

The past week, my wife has allowed me to have her body, but as soon as she wakes up, she regrets what we did the night before.

She’s trying her hardest to push me away, to convince herself that we shouldn’t be together, but I see the longing in her eyes, the love she still holds. I just need her to forget that goddamn picture she was sent. I need her to at least try to learn to forgive me.

I need her to fight for us like I am, because fuck, I’m petrified of losing her.

I open my mouth to tell Lola to just drive so we can fill the rig up before a call comes in, but my phone rings, saving me from having to speak to the bitch. I quickly grab it and smile seeing my wife’s name and answer, “Freckles?” causing Lola to look at me with a frown, most likely hearing the love in my tone, but I ignore her.

“Daddy,” my son says, and I sit up straighter.

“Bud? Everything alright? Where’s your mama?” I ask with a bit of panic, and my son sighs.

“She’s driving, but I need your help,” he says, and I relax slightly but soon hold in my laughter when he asks, “Can you tell Mama she doesn’t have to stay with me for my first day?”

Guess I should have seen this one coming.

Clearing my throat, I remind him, “She’s worried, bud. She was adamant about homeschooling you until you gave her the look.”

“I know, but I need to do this, Daddy, and Tray will be with me all day,” he whispers, and I sigh in understanding.

He wants to try and be brave.