She didn’t.
“I still think about our time together when I’m... well, you know.” Nicola gave me a knowing look and wiggled her fingers.
Was she really telling me she thought about Jeremy while she was buffin’ the muffin’?
Eww.
“Wow, Nicola, I don’t need to know that.” I really, really didn’t need to know that.
Nicola had the decency to blush. “Sorry, that was probably TMI.”
I nodded. “Absolutely,” I agreed.
“Well, if you ever get the chance to take that man for a ride, go for it, girl. You won’t be disappointed. I wasn’t,” she cackled while patting my shoulder in female solidarity.
I wanted to claw her eyes out.
“Okay, well, thanks for that. I should get going.” I gave her a wave and pushed my cart down the next aisle to try and finish my shopping. When I got to the checkout, I sucked it up and paid for the five boxes of Hamburger Helper I had thrown in during that horrible conversation.
And it didn’t stop there.
I ran into Sheila at the post office. She was on the phone, talking in quiet whispers, obviously trying not to be overheard.
Who was she talking to?
Was she speaking to Jeremy?
The green-eyed monster was a destructive force that I couldn’t escape from. I had sworn that I wouldn’t be that woman, yet here I was, ready to pee all over Jeremy to mark my territory.
The smart thing to do would be to walk away. To put the brakes on this thing with Jeremy before it could get any messier. Before I lost my mind completely and starting pulling bitches’ hair out. Jeremy would understand. It’s not as if he wanted anything more than a nice roll in the hay a couple of times a week. He had been more than happy to keep this thing between us casual and purely physical.
Jeremy Wyatt didn’t do relationships and he didn’t do feelings. Adam had warned me of that years ago and that warning had held up.
Yet, even though I knew it would only end badly, I couldn’t stay away from him.
“Hold on, Marlena,” he growled, lifting me up and carrying me to the counter. God, I loved it when he used my real name. It used to irritate me, but now, when he said Marlena, the girlie parts inside me did somersaults.
Jeremy had come over an hour after work with a bottle of wine in hand. “Thought we could share a drink instead of going to the bar,” he said after closing the door behind him. The bottle of wine was still unopened on the coffee table. I wasn’t sure why he bothered with the pretense. We both knew why he came over. And it wasn’t to drink alcohol together.
There was only one thing the two of us wanted out of this arrangement. And it had everything to do with dipping his wick.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned as he pounded away. I gripped him tightly, scared that if I let go, I’d shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Don’t stop. God, Jeremy, don’t stop,” I pleaded as my hips met him thrust for thrust.
We knocked my coffee canister off the counter. The mugs hanging from hooks underneath the cabinets shook so hard they started falling. We were loud. We were messy. And there was no stopping this train until it hit a wall.
“Ahh,” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he came. I could feel every exquisite inch of him as he pulsated. There was an addictive power in rendering a man like Jeremy Wyatt senseless. His complete loss of control fed something in me that was dark and dangerous. I was terrified that I’d do anything to keep it.
After we finished, we stayed where we were. Jeremy’s jeans around his ankles, my panties pushed to the side. Our faces were slick with sweat and we panted as if we had run a marathon. He kissed my forehead and I wondered if I imagined the way his lips lingered there.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I joked, sounding winded.
Jeremy laughed and I could feel the rumble in every part of me. “On the contrary, Ducate, we need to meet like this more often.”
I gave him a wry look. “We’re already meeting like this several times a week. What more do you want?”
I didn’t expect him to answer, so why was I irritated when he only grinned as he removed the condom, tying it off before tossing it in the trash. What did I think he’d say?
More importantly, what did I want him to say?
What more do you want?
Nothing. That was the only suitable answer.
Jeremy excused himself to use the bathroom. I cleaned myself up and straightened my clothes while he was gone. We had a bad habit of not bothering to undress before having sex. We’d been together half a dozen times by now and every time I still wore my bra. There was something a little sleazy about that.