Chapter 11

11

Davey

I'm trembling on the edge, looking into the sweet blue eyes of the man I love, begging myself not to follow my instincts and kiss him. But he's here, and his face is so warm, and the way he's looking at me is taking me back to all those endless moments we've spent together.

I swallow roughly, thumb dusting over stubble, and Mack leans into the touch. Like he's starved for it.

My eyes mist, making the sight of him dip in and out of focus, and when he becomes clear again, his eyes are glassy too.

We're suspended in a moment that doesn't feel real, neither of us wanting to break the magic building around us.

His full lips part like he's about to say something, bottom one trembling.

"I love you so much," he whispers, and it kills me .

A stray tear finds my cheek, and I blink the rest of them away. "Mack …"

His hands cover mine, holding them to him, even as his expression turns from yearning to determined. "I know nothing has changed. Nothing. I think I love you more every day."

"Stop."

He steps in so our chests are touching.

I step back, but my hands are clamped in his, so I can't go far. "Don't do this."

He tugs me back closer, and this time, he releases one of my hands to wrap his around my back. "Please? I know what this is. I know that loving you won't change anything, and I'm not asking for you to give me anything more than one night. Just one. One where we shut the rest of the world out and ignore it until tomorrow."

My heart is aching to say yes. Every cell in my body is straining toward him, wanting Mack more in this moment than I've ever wanted anything. How can we both be so completely on the same side when it comes to our feelings but be on polar opposite ones when it comes to what we need from our relationship?

"I don't want to hurt you."

His forehead meets mine. "What if I want you to?"

"I can't."

"You can."

A soft, helpless laugh slips past my lips. "I'm not a strong man. Not when it comes to you."

"I don't want you to be strong. Not tonight. I just want you to be mine."

His lips ghost my chin, my jaw, creeping closer to the place they haven't been in years. My lips are tingling with expectation, breath hitched and shallow, waiting for Mack to do what I can't.

I slip my hands back, his short hair tickling my palms as I cradle his head, holding him close, breathing him in, stopping him from running away before he gets the courage we both need him to find.

His lips brush the corner of mine, and my heartbeat is so loud it's pounding in my ears.

I'm actually fucking nervous. Scared is something I was expecting; being close to tears makes sense as well.

But nervous? To kiss my own husband again. To touch him and hold him and, with any luck, to take him apart for the last time.

But maybe …

I don't even let myself think it. Don't dare to hope that this could be getting us a step closer to where we both want to be. The only way we have a chance of anything else is if I walk away from a piece of who I am, but I'm scared without that piece that I won't have anything left to offer.

I suck in a shuddery breath as Mack's nose skims mine.

"Just one night …" he whispers.

My grip on him tightens. "I …"

"Do you still want me?"

That question makes me see red. "I've never fucking stopped."

I crush his mouth to mine, a rush passing through my body, so heady it almost knocks me off my feet. He's gripping me tight, pressing closer to my body like he's scared I'll disappear, and I'm clutching him back just as securely. I have no idea how many others have gotten to enjoy my husband, but I can guarantee they've never had him like this. Desperate and in love and afraid this will never happen again .

I know he feels it because I do too.

I hold his jaw, easing it open so my tongue can pass into his mouth. It's the deepest most indulgent kiss I've ever had, and my senses are in overdrive. The skim of his firm tongue against mine, his stubble scraping my mouth, his soft lips fighting to keep this going. Like he's begging me not to back away.

Now I've gotten a taste of him, that's impossible.

His body against me, his scent, his strong tongue, his hands gripping my shirt, all of it takes me back, and my memories hadn't done our time together justice. They never will. Because there's no possible way to capture how I feel with him, as though all my pieces have found their home.

Mack backs me toward the bed, and I go willingly, not breaking our kiss until he's pushed me backward onto the mattress. Our mattress. The place where we spent so many sleepless nights. Where we made love and found and held each other in the dark.

He covers me with his body, hard cock resting beside mine. But no matter how horny we both are for each other, I can sense Mack isn't in a hurry to get to that part, which is a relief because neither am I.

I'd kiss him forever if it meant staying like this.

It feels like hours with him lying between my legs, kisses deep and slow, hips rotating on a lazy rhythm that has me needy but not yet desperate. I want to bury myself in his body, watch his face as I bring him to pleasure, but there's a part of me that can't bear to face that moment. The painful action of putting on a condom to fuck my husband will break the moment we're escaping into.

I don't need confirmation of that.

So before he can think to ask, I roll Mack gently onto his back and let my hand run over the front of him. With his shirt open, I get to explore every muscle, like a well-worn dream I want to sink into.

Then, I get to his sweats.

There's no hiding his erection. The pants do jack shit to stop me from feeling every ridge. He grunts into my mouth as I wrap my hand around him, and a shiver ripples down my back.

As much as I'd hoped for this moment, I never thought I'd get to make love to him again.

Sex with Mack has never been an issue, but I get the feeling this time is going to ruin me.

I pull back, breaking the kiss so I can watch his face as I reach for the band of his sweats and push them down. He does the same, large hands sliding the material over my ass and down my thighs until I can kick them to the foot of the bed. The head of my dick skims his balls, and my eyes roll back at the sensation.

This is happening.

Finally.

I'm going to lock this moment away in my memories forever.

I settle between Mack's thighs, and we let out matching exhales.

"You look so good there," he says. "You always have."

I manage a quick smile. "You know how much it turns me on to have you on your back."

He drags his nails down my back, my shirt dulling the pain until he reaches my ass. Then, he cups my cheeks and rocks his hips against me.

"Always so impatient."

"Only with you," he rasps .

As much as I want to sink into the compliment, it immediately brings up the question of how many others ?

It immediately pisses me off. We're supposed to be blocking out the rest of the world and allowing ourselves this moment, but I can't bring myself to disconnect. There are a million thoughts spinning through my mind, questions around how I could let him go and how I can win him back and how many others has he been with?

I don't think he's sleeping with Luke, but if I hadn't come home early, would he have? Would it be Luke here instead of me?

The ache in my chest is painful, so instead of letting him see the battle I'm fighting, I bring our mouths together again. I try to burn this kiss into his mind. Try to remind him that no one will ever be as good for him as I am. It's not fair of me, but I can't help being selfish. I can't help bitterly wishing that Mack had never made me choose. I did everything, everything in my power to shower him and the kids with attention when I was home. I did everything to provide for them, I worked myself to the bone when I was home. But even giving everything wasn't enough.

I grind down against him, so keyed up and leaking that every thrust we share is mind-numbing bliss. Mack is bigger and thicker than I am, and his straight shaft fits so perfectly against my curved one it's like every aspect of us was made for each other.

The need in my gut turns static, balls aching with pressure every time they skim his. He lets go of my ass, legs locking around my waist and hands diving into my hair. We're sealed together in all the places that matter. Saying one last goodbye to the body I love so much. Our kissing turns fractured, panting breaths heavy and fast, mixing between us as I pick up the pace.

I'm hammering down against him, and Mack is chasing the high, hips canting to bring us together faster, harder, I rock toward my orgasm and know it won't be enough.

It'll never be enough.

His hand dives between us to lock around our cocks, and it's too much for me to fight anymore.

My dick swells with the incoming orgasm, balls tightening as the welling pleasure builds until I can't hold back.

Cum spills between us, and the gasp Mack lets out before he gently bites my bottom lip has me questioning whether it's just mine or ours. He keeps stroking, not letting up even when I get too sensitive for more, but I don't say anything. Neither does he.

We both hover there, stickiness building between our bodies as we work to catch our breath and extend our time together as long as possible.

His long, heavy exhale is like drawing a line between what we had and what comes next.

"Thank you," he says.

"Don't."

"I needed that."

"Yeah, well, so did I." I stop myself from telling him that I need him. Always have and always will.

With the orgasm subsiding, I'm thinking clearly again, clearly enough to know that the things we said, what we did, were all a stupid fucking idea.

It doesn't matter how much we want when there are things we can't get past. Sleeping together makes me want to ignore all those issues and fall back into our relationship, but it ended us once, and who's to say it won't be worse a second time around?

I need Mack in my life.

Even if it's only as my friend.

Doing this sort of mindless stuff puts everything we've worked for together at risk.

His voice is small when he speaks again. "This was a mistake, wasn't it?"

"If you're asking, you already know the answer."

I roll off him and onto the bed so he can sit up, and I try not to admire the way our cum looks smeared over his abs.

He drops his head into his hand. "I don't know what I was thinking."

I hurry to sit up too, moving so I'm next to him and can rest my forehead on his shoulder. "Sometimes the distance between us gets too much. We just needed to bring it in a little."

"Yeah. That's … yeah."

"Just because something is a mistake doesn't mean it wasn't necessary."

"I don't regret it," he says.

Even though it's a relief, it still hurts to hear that. I look up, finding him close, and can't resist brushing his lips with mine. "Me either. I'm glad it happened. And tomorrow, we'll find a way to move on."