Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
To include Nathan felt farfetched, though.
“In a perfect world, sure, it could work,” I said carefully. “But I’ve asked him for a second chance enough times now that before I let him stomp on my heart again, I’ll do my own digging. I’m not relying on brat gossip to save my marriage.”
“That’s the spirit!” Jordan threw his arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. “You’re wrong about the quality of brat gossip, but yay!”
The little shit drew a chuckle from me, and I gave him a squeeze back automatically, but my focus had shifted. My head was fucked. This couldn’t be happening. A dream didn’t turn into a plan so swiftly. My fears came rushing back stronger than ever before, and it made me queasy.
Always with the fucking fears.
I hated being a coward.
“This is gonna work out, Sir.”
Please stop saying that.
I swallowed hard and did my best to put a lid on things. Because when push came to shove, Nate possibly being single didn’t mean a goddamn thing. He had literally told me that he hated lying to our kids about loving me.
“Thank you for lookin’ out for me, brat.” I turned my head and kissed his cheek, and I closed my eyes. “But you’re still a sneak.”
“Am not,” he whispered. “I know the sexual tension took a big hike, but was there anything else you wanted to discuss? Boundaries and stuff? Safety? James and I got tested a while back in case you’d wanna turn us into your sex toys and never, ever use condoms.”
I had to swallow again, and I needed him to stop. Mixing nausea with desire wasn’t my idea of a nice cocktail.
I cleared my throat and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Sweet boy, I spent twenty years with the love of my life, and you just told me he’s not seeing anyone anymore. I’m not sure I’m capable of discussing anything right now.”
“Gosh—Sir, I’m so sorry. Of course you’re not. I’ll slow down.” He cupped my face in his hands, and we locked eyes. His expression softened with empathy. “It’s scary to hope, I’d imagine.”
Understatement of the century—and I decided right then and there to protect myself. I had to. Not just myself, but him. Jordan, James, everyone who could be affected by my decisions.
“It’s too soon to hope,” I corrected, even though he was right in his guess too. “Even if he ended things with that guy, he has still moved on. More than that, he’s told me that he wants me to move on as well.”
Jordan pursed his lips, and he looked a little dubious.
“I’m not saying I won’t try to get to the bottom of things,” I added. “But I won’t factor him in either. Not in this situation. I’d just be setting myself up for the mother of all heartaches.”
He nodded slowly, maybe processing what I’d said. “So, um…maybe we’ll revisit the playtime idea once you figure things out?”
I took a deep breath and peered down between us. As I rubbed his thighs, I let my gaze roam his body, and it split me in two. For starters, every step I took on this path—with Jordan—would cement the validity of Nathan’s claim. That I was desperate to explore my own core kink. Which was obviously right. For every moment I spent with Jordan and James, my hunger grew.
But so did my guilt.
That faceless Little I’d had in the back of my mind, beckoning to me over the years, reminding me of desires I’d tried to suppress, not only had a face these days, but I’d lost the willpower to resist him.
I wanted to unleash every ounce of the Daddy Dom in me—and in order to do that, whenever it might happen, I had to acknowledge that Nate had been right all along. That he knew me better than I knew myself. Because being on the cusp of experiencing something with Jordan did indescribable things to me. As if breathing became easier, as if each inhale had a shot of dopamine in it. And that was one of several sources of guilt. All the anger I’d used to lash out at Nathan when we’d argued. The pity parties I’d thrown myself because he’d stood up for what was in our best interest. The arguments of his I’d twisted in order to justify my fury and redirect blame.
He’d never actually forced me to take any leaps. He’d begged me to take the smallest baby steps. And I’d given him shit the whole fucking way.
If Nathan had been selfish, he would’ve let things go. Instead, he’d waged war on my fears when I’d been too scared to do so.
I’d been honest with him too. I would’ve done the exact same thing if the roles had been reversed. Because, fucking think about it. If my husband killed a dream and denied a part of himself to be with me, to maintain what we had, I would’ve felt like absolute dog shit. That’s what it boiled down to in the end. It didn’t fucking matter if Nate would’ve been happy, just like I’d sworn I would be; I still would’ve had that on my conscience.