Page 48 of Pretend You're Mine
It was just not talking. And because he did not ask, and I could tell he wanted to, I told him.
“Yesterday, I went to see a lawyer about an annulment.”
The silence shifted, it was different now, like a ticking bomb.
“We can still pretend for your family,” I said quickly. “We’d just get the annulment after.”
Another ticking silence, “Are you that eager to get away from me?” he finally asked.
His anger was contagious.
“No, that’s not it at all. I just … This is screwing with my head. I wanted to know what the process was like, what to expect.” I balled some of the blanket in my hand. “And, to feel like I have a bit of control over the situation.”
“You feel like you have no control? How do you think I feel? Having to lie to my parents and not knowing where this going? Having to tell them off last night for you?”
I twisted to face him. In the moonlight, his features, as angry as they were, look like a noble Greek gods he’d been talking about.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Yesterday, I wanted to see you before I saw my family,” Xander said. “I didn’t want you there, at that function. I’m tired of pretending too. Alliana was there and my family were there, trying to pressure me into all kinds bullshit. So, I left.”
His words swirled around me, filling me up.
“I didn’t know that,” I said.
“You don’t know a lot of things,” he said.
“Maybe,” I said, “But I’m sorry.”
When I leaned down to press my lips to his, he turned his cheek. I kissed it, saying into it, “I’m sorry.”
He twisted away. He sat there just breathing for a moment and then, twisting around, his lips landed on mine.
26
Xander
The half-hearted kiss of hers told me what was going on.
“You’re still unsure about us,” I realized, pulling back at the same time my hand plunged up her skirt.
Naomi only moaned as my two fingers connected with her panty-clad pussy, looking around nervously. “But we’re in the middle of a park.”
She kissed me back and, in her ear, I hissed, “We’re the only ones here.”
She was crazy wet, and the hungry way she was kissing me back told me she still wanted me.
Although it still wasn’t enough.
“Admit it,” I hissed, pulling away. “Admit you’re still unsure.”
Naomi bit my lip, but said nothing. My finger dipped under her panties and in, slicking into the wetness.
A groan curled out of her as her body eased back onto the blanket.
“Admit it,” I said again, my gaze boring into her, my finger slicing in further. As I finger-fucked her, her limbs shook, until she finally broke free.
“You admit it,” she hissed, undoing my pants.
As our gazes glared into each other’s, she pulled down my briefs too.
“I already told you what I want,” I reminded her as I slid into her fully. “I want this.”
Neither of us were taking our time either. I was pumping her fast and hard, both our bodies already shaking with its roughness. We slapped together, me on top of her, her pelvis arching up to meet mine. It felt fantastic.
And Naomi’s face, a bit harried, looked how mine must’ve right now. Because, no holds barred, I wanted this. Her, us, to finish this.
Naomi came once, then again, her body breaking out into spasms.
Only then did she shove me so I was the one on my back now. Then, clambering on, next thing I knew she was riding me cowgirl still, grinding her hips into me.
Fucking yes. Naomi’s face was pure pleasured joy as she rode me like a rockstar. Fast and hard, until, when her body broke out into helpless shakes once more, it wasn’t the only one. We came together and only once I had her wrapped in my arms after, our naked bodies cool in the night, did she say. “Of course I’m not sure about us. We got married over a drunken game of truth or dare and stayed married as a lie.”
I pressed her to me tighter, saying nothing. Because I couldn’t tell her the truth, it was too scary. Terrifying really. Because not only was I sure about us, but I was one hundred percent in love with my wife.
27
Naomi
Say it, a voice inside me urged as Xander drove me home. Say it.
But my head was a blur and Xander wasn’t saying any anything either. He drove down the long winding roads, past the slow cars that almost seemed like sleepwalkers in comparison. He stopped at red lights, zoomed through green lights, and careened past yellow lights. He drove me past a landscape of quiet somnolence, the very houses themselves looking asleep.
Say it, the voice in my head urged me. Shut up, I urged it back.
The situation was screwed up in every way, and frankly, what was “it” even talking about? My own feelings, my own hopes, my own fears, were so woven together that untying one seemed like it would unravel everything with disastrous consequences.
