Page 72 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
“No worries,” I tell him. I put my right hand on his back and draw him to me. “I’ll lead.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder and, while we start with our clasped hands outstretched, Jason doesn’t resist when I pull our hands in and rest them against my chest. He even shuffles closer to me.
I don’t try anything crazy; we just shift our weight from foot to foot more or less in time with the music. Jason’s eyes are downcast and I try very damn hard not to pay attention to the lyrics.
Because I don’t think I can help falling in love with him.
Even though I shouldn’t.
I’m not expecting anything to happen when we head back to the room. It’s not that late, but it’s been an emotional day and we’ve both drunk probably more than we should have. I’m not even sure I can get it up.
Until Jason looks at me—assesses me, more like—with his hands on his hips and a determined glint in his eyes.
I’ve hung my suit jacket up in the wardrobe and stripped my shirt off. My hands are on the waistband of my pants but I stop and return his gaze.
“Keep going,” he says, gesturing at my pants. “Everything off.”
And hey, guess I can get it up after all.
“Please,” he says, as an afterthought. I’ve already undone my pants and let them drop to the floor. I step out of them, toss everything else on the floor with them, and wait for further instructions.
“Sit on the edge of the bed.”
I do it. Who said anything about being tired?
Jason removes his jacket, too, and hangs it in the wardrobe, but doesn’t take anything else off. He does roll his shirtsleeves up to the elbow and Jesus fucking Christ, I’ve always had a weakness for a man’s forearms.
He kneels in between my legs and shoulders my thighs apart. He’s regarding my dick, which is all in with whatever he has planned, and doesn’t look up at me.
Then he takes me into his mouth and I have to close my eyes for a minute. It’s not that he’s perfectly expert—there’s a little more teeth than I generally prefer—but it’s everything I’ve never let myself think about how much I wanted.
He is everything I want.
I thread my fingers though his hair. Not pushing or holding, barely even guiding. Because however Jason wants to suck me off, I will take it and love it.
I just want to touch him.
It’s over far too quickly. My spine tingles and my balls tighten and before I know it, I’m unloading into his mouth. Jason stays there for a moment after swallowing, just holding my dick in his mouth, then draws off and sits back on his heels.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then pushes to his feet. I catch his hand and pull him to me. He cups the back of my head in his hand and I wrap my arms around his waist. We hold each other like that for what seems like both an eternity and barely seconds, then he pulls away.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says.
I slide under the covers while Jason undresses and heads to the bathroom. I fully plan to return the favor when he returns to bed, but there’s the sound of water running and I’m sated and sleepy.
By the time the mattress dips with Jason’s weight, I’m mostly asleep. His warm bulk curls behind me and I feel a kiss on the side of my neck. “Good night, Victor,” he murmurs in my ear, and I drop off again.
Thirty-Six
Jason
We spend the day after the wedding in bed, leaving only for meals. Same as Kelsey and Adrienne, and I try very hard not to think about our daughter on her honeymoon while I’m fucking her father.
And now it’s the day of our departure. I’m not ready. I mean, I’m packed and have kissed the girls goodbye, as they’re staying on at the resort by themselves for a honeymoon week. My bags are already loaded into the resort’s van for the ride to the airport, and Victor and I have checked out and settled the bill.
Victor’s saying his goodbyes to the girls and the van is leaving in less than half an hour. I’m ready to be home, sleeping in my own bed, walking my dog.
I’m not ready to say goodbye to Victor.
