8. Rachel

RACHEL

I f I smoked, I'd reach for a cigarette, but I couldn't feel my lips or anything else on my body anyway, so it was a moot point. I've heard the term well-fucked before but never imagined it relating to me.

I couldn't move for the first few seconds after the third round of sex and seriously thought he had put me out of commission. I didn't complain when he lifted me from the bed and started walking toward the bathroom; I just sort of curled into his chest and let him do as he pleased.

He washed me in the shower, like leaned me against the wall and washed me from head to toe. All of this was done without a word. I'd realized when we were in bed that he touched me with a sort of reverence that made me feel more special than I had since my first year of dating my ex-husband, even more so.

When we left the shower after he got cleaned up, he sat me in front of the vanity and brush-dried my hair with the blow dryer. I was in awe. Jacob is a big guy. Six-four, perfectly built with muscles in the right places and he looks like a wet dream.

I'm not going to lie; he's the hottest of all of Doug's friends, something I didn't let myself notice or ponder in a disrespectful way because, well, I was married. Now, I was scarily hopeful as I watched him in the mirror as he tended to my hair.

His own black tresses were wet, his chiseled cheekbones pronounced, and those startling ice-blue eyes with specks of diamonds in the irises were intent on his hand as it moved the brush through my hair.

"So, does this mean…." My voice didn't sound like my own, but I needed to ask.

"What do you think it means, sweetheart?" I shrugged my shoulders because I was too afraid to guess.

"I told you; I wanted you the first time I laid eyes on you. I'm taking it slow, moving at whatever pace you set for now because I know you're still raw. If sex was all I wanted from you, no scratch that. I want all of you. I want you, your kids with him, our kids, and the rest of your life."

His eyes met mine in the mirror, and I think I forgot how to breathe. "Breathe, baby, it's going to be fine. I'm ready and willing to put anything in place that will make you feel safe. Just tell me what that is, and it's yours."

"I don't know what I need."

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere." He kissed the top of my head and continued brushing, and I felt so safe in that moment it was uncanny. "Now get up and get dressed. I'm going to take you dancing."

"What?"

"It's been a while since you've been anywhere, hasn't it?"

"Well, yes."

"The kids are gone; we know they're safe because Susy's on the job."

"But I haven't been dancing in years."

"So? I have to go home and get a change of clothes. Be ready when I get back."

I combed through my closet after he left and was at a loss. It had been forever since I went out anywhere that required getting dressed up except maybe for a wedding here and there. I found a sexy red dress that I don't even remember buying way back in the closet and held it up to myself in the mirror.

He'd brushed my platinum blonde hair to a shine, and it did something that made the color pop even more. I was dressed and ready when he returned half an hour later, and we headed out after I called to check in with Susy. I told her where we were going after asking him for the name of the club just in case of an emergency and tried not to worry too much about being a mother of two going out on the town.

DOUG

"What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing; Rachel was just checking in on the guys. Say, since I'm here, why don't you two go out on the town? I hear there's this new club over on Hampton." I gave her a skeptical look because this was a big change from the way she'd been acting all night.

Wendy, on the other hand, was willing to jump on the idea, and I have to admit to wanting to get out of the house. It was the perfect time to be heading out for a night on the town. Besides, what was I going to do? Spend another boring Saturday night at home watching TV? Isn't that why I got divorced in the first place?

We got dressed and headed out, leaving my sister making popcorn to get ready for some movie marathon she wanted to watch. We pulled up to the new club following the directions, and the place was already lively, with a line going around the block.

Parking looked like a nightmare, with vehicles parked on both sides of the street. I saw a vehicle I thought I recognized on one of my turns. It looked like Jacob's Bugatti Tourbillon. It's the only one in existence in this part of the country, if not the world, and easily recognizable.

But what the hell was he doing here? I didn't think he'd come to these kind of places anymore. In fact, he hadn't for as long as I was married, and he'd moved into a place around the corner, or at least two streets over, to be exact.

I have money, but Jacob was born loaded, and he has a knack for making money, so he's only gotten much wealthier with time. We met in Pre-School and have been best buds ever since; we even went to the same college.

He used to be the wild one of the bunch, but I guess that comes with the territory when you're filthy rich. The guy had it made in every way. He had good looks, impeccable manners, an air about him that just made people want to fall at his feet, and more money than small countries could spend for the rest of their existence.

I won't deny that I've spent some time envying the guy like crazy. He'd always won at everything he touched, and there was only one time that I beat him. The memory hit me with a quick flash of sadness.

That was the night we first saw Rachel together. I was terrified that he would get to her first, so I made a crack about her being his type. I know Jake is the type to take other people's feelings into consideration when it comes to certain matters.

Since I'm no slouch in the looks department, I shot my shot. It was the best and most fulfilling decision of my life. I was getting more and more depressed by the time I found a parking spot and parked the car.

The good thing about going back down memory lane while drifting along behind the wheel is the time it kills. By the time we made it back to the door, the line was already in half. And it was only about another ten minutes before we were let in.

The place was perfectly lit for this type of establishment with a sectioned-off room with banquets and round marble tables; then there was the two-story dance floor, the bar, and then the upstairs gallery where VIPs sit.

I knew all about the place because I looked it up after Susy mentioned it. I looked up there now and thought I saw Jake in one of the private sections with the curtains pulled back, necking with a blonde.

They came up for air, and he kept his arms around her, and their faces were very close. Then she threw her head back and laughed, and my heart stopped. I was moving through the throng of people in a hurry, with Wendy pulling on my shirt.

I got up the stairs past the guard by giving them Jake's name and made my way over to there they were seated. "You son of a bitch. Is this what you've been doing behind my back all this fucking time? You bastard. Were you fucking her when we were married?"

He leaned over the table and whispered something in Rachel's ear before two men came and took her away from the table. I tried to stop them, "And you, you faithless bi…" Before I could say the word, I was yanked back off my feet, lifted into the air, and dropped to my back on the hard floor.

The wind was knocked out of me when Jacob leaned over and got in my face. "If you ever in your life speak to my woman like that again. I'll make you wish you were never born. Now I'm here to have a good time with my woman; take that cum-dumpster and get the hell out of here."

He stepped back and out of the way, and one of the men helped me up on my feet. I grabbed Wendy and looked around for Rachel, but she was nowhere to be seen. "This isn't over, Jake. Not by a long shot. I won't let you have her. Not my wife and my kids, you bastard. You've had everything else in life handed to you; did you have to take them from me too?"

I was close to tears at this point and didn't care that I was making a scene or that people were stopping and staring from down below, even with the loud music. "You're making a fool of yourself. Isn't this what you blew up your life for?" He pointed at Wendy, who looked pissed.

The two of us were dragged out of there, and I saw Rachel being escorted from a room and given back to him. She ran into his arms just as I was walking out the door.