Ex Games

“No, I do,” I insisted, flustered. “It’s beautiful. I’m sorry if I looked distracted.”

“It’s okay,” she gave me a knowing smile. “Your mind’s just everywhere, isn’t it? You know mommy brain? Well there’s bride brain, too, sweetie, and I think you have it,” she giggled. “Just means you’ve got too many things going on with the planning and while you’re at the florist’s, you’re thinking about the dress, and while you’re at the fitting, you’re thinking about catering. It’s totally natural.”

It probably was but I didn’t have bride brain on this particular morning in Gramercy Park. I had a fiancé who refused to have sex with me.

That morning, Jackson had joined me in the shower. He’d opened the door, letting me rinse the shampoo from my hair as I watched him peel his dirty clothes off. “I’m sorry for last night,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my lips when he got in. “I don’t remember it that well but I know you had to be pretty rightfully pissed.”

Feeling guilty myself, I had easily accepted his apology and lathered him up with soap, running my hands down his sides and forcing his arms up. He held them folded behind his head, watching with a lazy grin as I lowered myself to my knees, my palms sliding down to his thighs. I rubbed a slow, gentle massage onto his legs, feeling his muscles twitch as I let my warm breath tease his hardening cock.

But the second I brushed my lips against his helmet, he winced. “Lara,” he stepped back. “No.”

I blinked at him with utter confusion. He’d never declined sex once in our four years together. I frowned hard. “What?”

“I can’t. Not till you’re done with what you have to do. I just… can’t.”

“Are you serious? Jackson, please, let’s just forget that. It doesn’t have to be three times. I did it once and that was enough.”

Jackson rested his forehead against mine. “You say that now but you don’t realize how much it fucking hurts when you throw what I did back at me.”

I pulled away, eyes wide with surprise. “Jackson, I know hurt.”

“This is what I mean. That’s you throwing it back at me.”

“What, I’m supposed to pretend this never happened?” The hot water beat down on me as I stared incredulously.

“I want us to do something as close as possible to that, Lara, yes. Is that crazy? I want us to forget what happened and leave it all behind and if it takes you fucking whoever it was two more times, then fine. If that’s the price I have to pay until you understand that what I did meant nothing, and that I’ll always love you, then great. Perfect. I’ll pay that price.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I was being told by my fiancé to sleep with someone else, twice more, before he would have sex with me again. I was so astonished I couldn’t speak, wordlessly moving aside for him as he stepped under the shower, letting the water rain down his wide shoulders. I could tell that he was annoyed with my stunned silence but I couldn’t think of anything to say.

He was the one who eventually ended the quiet, turning off the showerhead and pushing open the door. “Just make sure it’s the same fucking guy. I’d rather you keep it to a minimum,” he muttered before getting out.

His words echoed in my head as the calligrapher turned to me with a sympathetic look. “Why don’t we reschedule for another time, sweetheart? Maybe you should use the rest of the day to relax – go to the spa, get a massage, turn off your phone. You know.”

I cocked my head as she glanced down at my phone. The large screen was packed full with notifications – missed calls and text messages from mostly Sloane and the girls. I blinked back up at her. “Was that ringing the whole time?”

“It was.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice.”

“Bride brain.”

Sure. “Yes. Right. Let’s reschedule then. I’m so sorry if I wasted your time today.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re a bride and you’re having your wedding in New York. If you think it’s crazy now, just wait till you get closer to the day. The madness just doesn’t stop!”

As I left the boutique, I prayed that she was wrong about that. I needed the madness to stop. I needed to just tell Jackson that I’d gotten the deal over with and that we could just be us again. Because sleeping with Jake for a second time would be dangerous. I knew this and I was fiercely determined not to let it happen again. I needed to wane myself off of him. I needed to find a way to nix my attraction.

Or at the very least, bring it down enough that I would never again touch myself to the thought of him, all the while laying in his brother’s bed.

Chapter Eighteen

On Friday, Jackson invited all our friends to Buccieri for an extravagant celebration of Jake’s return. I bought a special dress for the occasion – something I knew that Jackson wouldn’t be able to resist. I needed him back tonight, to quell the desperation that had been pulsing between my legs for days. I needed to feel his weight on top of me again. Most of all, I needed to remember him and forget Jake.

So I wore an ultra-short lace number – skintight, strapless and just a half-shade lighter than the color of my skin. I looked naked and I knew it was racy. But racy was what I needed. Not only would it stun Jackson, it would command the eyes of his friends. I knew my fiancé – half his arousal came from the fact that he was envied, that he had what others wanted. It was strange, borderline fucked up, but it was something I accepted by now.

And tonight, it was something I could use to my advantage.

“Oh. My. God.” Sloane dropped her studded clutch when the elevator door opened for her to step into my apartment. I had told Jackson to go first and make sure everything looked right, and that I’d meet him later with Sloane. In reality, I just wanted to make a grand entrance. I tried not to think about the fact that I was doing it at Jake’s welcome back party.