Amy felt a slither of nausea roll through her stomach. "Was that the coach?" The words were so controlled and softly spoken that they upset her more than his usual bark.
"Yes. He wanted to tell me that Kayla made a perfect score on her six week research project." She tried to keep the explanation simple and close to the whole truth.
"You think that's normal? For a high school teacher to call a mom just to tell her a grade?" He was holding himself so tightly he was afraid he would snap.
"N-no. Probably not." She softly shook her head.
"Answer one question for me, sweetheart." Amy had never seen him act like this before. It was not his usual method of operation. "Did I just hear you tell a man that you might go out with him?
Jake crossed his arms and waited for her answer. It was slow in coming. "It was just to get him off the phone. I didn't mean it. I don't want to go out with him." His expression turned glacial.
He turned on his heel and strode to the door.
"Jake, wait. I'm not going to go out with him. You have to know that. Please don't go."
With his hand on the door, he turned toward her and studied her a moment. "It's late, Amy. Kayla will be home soon. I'll see you later."
He turned and left.
Amy let out a small sob. The worst part was his control. He should have been out of control. He should have been pushing her against the wall and ripping her panties off and demanding her submission.
It terrified her that he didn't.
Chapter Ten
By Friday evening, Amy was getting desperate. Her nerves were shot and her emotions were in a tangle. It didn't help that Kayla was spending the night with a friend. She didn't have anything to take her mind off of Jake.
She wanted to see him. Touch him. Hold him. She wanted to be with him so badly she could taste it. Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Maybe to apologize again? She would.
She picked up her phone before she could change her mind. What good did pride do a person at a time like this anyway?
She keyed in, 'I'm sorry,' and pressed send.
Five minutes later, he answered. 'Don't worry about it' Don't worry about it! What did that mean? Did he even care anymore? Had he ever cared?
'Do you forgive me?' Well, now her pride was non-existent. But they said pride was a sin, and she certainly didn't want to sin.
'Nothing to forgive.'
Amy's frustration level grew. 'Can I come over?'
His answer was swift. 'For a booty call?'
Asshole. Men were such dicks. Why women ever bothered, she sometimes didn't know. 'Would you say yes to that?'
'I wouldn't turn it down.'
*
Amy pulled into his driveway twenty minutes later. She had put her nightgown and toothbrush in her bag, just in case. He was waiting for her by the back door.
"Where's Kayla?" He just stood there, nonchalant, and didn't make a move for her.
"She's spending the night with a friend." Amy walked in and he closed the door.
"Well, that makes it kind of convenient, doesn't it?" His tone was sarcastic.
She took a deep breath. She had her work cut out for her. "Listen, Jake--"
"No. You listen, Amy. I don't want to hear anymore of your bullshit excuses. This is a booty call. We're fuck buddies. Got it?" His arms crossed in front of him. The barriers were firmly in place.
Amy swallowed. "Are we, Jake? Still fuck buddies? Still just you and me, right?" She had to make sure that stipulation was still in place.
"Yes, goddammit. Nobody else." Antagonism radiated from him.
Amy hesitated a second and then dropped her bag and started walking toward him. "Okay, then."
Jake watched her glide toward him. He tried to stamp out the emotion that he shouldn't be feeling. Why the hell did he have to feel shit all of a sudden? Almost forty fucking years and nothing like this had ever happened to him before. But the five days without her were taking a toll on him. He had gotten used to having the sexual outlet so quickly. Damn. He really was spoiled. But no matter how fucked up his emotions were, the sight and scent of her had hardened him instantaneously.
He reached out, lifted her up and carried her to the couch. He toppled them over until they were laying side by side, facing each other. He wasted no time and fastened his mouth to hers.
Amy felt her head swim as his tongue dove deep into her mouth. She immediately adjusted her leg and lifted it over his. She reached down to rub his erection through his jeans. He groaned and moved his hand under her skirt, to the silk triangle covering her.
They lay together and petted and kissed each other. She unfastened his jeans and put her hand around him. His hand slid her panties aside and sunk a finger deep into her. She began rocking on his finger and jacking his penis at the same time. Slowly. She let go of his mouth for a second and reached her hand up to her tongue. She opened her eyes and stared into his as her tongue swiped the palm of her hand.
She closed her eyes and put her mouth back on his. Her hand moved back down to him.
Jake felt the small, wet hand enfold him and thought he was going to die and go to heaven right then and there. His breathing was ragged and the sound of her moans was addictive. Her hips pumped faster. Jake tore his mouth free. "Shit. I'm about to come, babe."
"Yes, yes, me, too. Come in my hand, Jake. Come in my hand." It was all he heard as he jerked against her and spilled his seed.
Amy felt him harden even more as the wet stickiness rushed into her palm. It was all she needed to push her over the edge. Her internal muscles grasped his finger and she pushed against him as she held him tightly and screamed in release.
They lay entwined until their breathing became normal again. Both were lost in their own thoughts.
Jake couldn't believe he didn't have the upper hand in this situation. It was ridiculous. He wanted all of her, but seemed willing to settle for whatever small amount she would give him. It pissed him off no small degree.
Amy was stunned at the passion they shared. She had had sex for so many years with her husband, and it was never like this. Never had they lost control from petting. She never experienced the level of release that Jake gave her.
Jake released her from his hold and stood up and walked to the kitchen. He returned in a moment with a wet cloth.
He dropped it in her hand. Amy caught it and looked up at him. The shutters were down again. What had she done? What had she done with one unthinking sentence?
"Okay, hon. That was fun. I'll see you Monday."
Hon? Since when did he call her 'hon?' He called her babe, sweetheart, and Amy, and all with a level of tenderness. Or raunchiness. The 'hon' was quite sarcastic. A flyaway endearment. Something he might call a whore. Amy saw red.
She stood up, wiped her hands off and adjusted her clothing. She was through with begging him for forgiveness. She tossed the rag back at him and almost lost it when she saw the comical look on his face when faced with his own mess.
"Whatever." She brushed passed him.
He grabbed her arm. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
"What the hell do you mean by treating me like a whore?"
"A whore?" He roared. "When did I do that?"
"I quote. That was fun. I'll see you Monday." She pulled on her arm. "How was that supposed to make me feel? Like you respect and care for me?"
He dropped her arm and stepped away from her. "Fuck. I do respect and care for you. Too goddamn much. What do you expect from me Amy? How exactly do you want me to treat you? You give me so much as a nod in the right direction, and I'll lay it all out for you, sweetheart." He began to shout. "You already know." He grabbed his hair with his hands. "Fuck it. You already know. I love you. Goddamn it. I love you.
She stared at him as her heart melted around her.
He continued his rant. "I fell for you. Bad. I've got it bad for you, Amy. You've got to decide. This is going to kill me. I can let you go. Probably. If I have to. But I can't keep doing this. I can't keep sleeping with you. Having you, but not having you. I'm not going to quit being a cop. Not anytime soon, anyway. I love it. It's my life. You've got to make a decision. You can either handle it, or you can't. You either want in, or you want out. You either love me, or you don't."
He stopped talking and looked at her. Amy stared back, her eyes swimming in tears. She walked toward him. She put her hands on his chest and whispered, "I'm in."
Jake felt his heart slam against his ribcage. "Don't mess with me, Amy. Just rip the goddamn bandage off with one sharp pull."
Her hand moved up to his cheek. "I love you, Jake. I'm crazy about you. I can handle it, I promise. I don't want to lose you." She smiled weakly at him.
"You love me? Did you just say you love me?" His voice was hoarse.
"Yes, I love you. I've probably loved you from the beginning. I've been in denial a long time. God knows it started out as lust, but I knew right away you were going to be trouble. You've been right all along, I was running from you from the very beginning." Her voice was soft, her eyes softer.
"Come here, babe." He took her by the hand and pulled her down on the couch. He placed her on his lap, and her head fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her so she couldn't run.
"There's something you've got to understand. Something you've got to agree to. I don't care where we live. My house, your house, or a new house altogether. But we're going to have to get married. I don't want short term. This is it. Commitment time. Real commitment. I want to live with you. Every day. I want you to sleep in my bed, every night. We can live wherever you think we will have enough room for me, you, and Kayla. Okay?"