Page 64 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

“But-”

I stop her, “Come, baby,” my voice thick with desire and need. And then she’s arching her back against the wall. And when I look down to watch her breasts bounce, my dick plunges deep inside her, and I grunt — slamming my seed into her body. Well, into the condom in her body. It’s not even over, and I’m already wishing for more.

She’s still tense even as the pulses fade. When I lean back and say, “Happy Birthday, baby,” her expression throws me. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown, but she doesn’t look like she’s coming off the high of an orgasm.

“Alex…” she taps my shoulder and points. I turn my head to find Blanks walking out of the bathroom.What the fuck?

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Em.” She shakes her head.

“It’s okay.”

“It’snotokay.” I slide out of her as I set her down on the tile floor. “Shouldn’t have happened. I don’t even know what the fuck he’s doing here.” She trembles as I move away from her.Fuck.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Alex.”

“I’ll be back, okay?” She nods, moving under the hot spray to wash her hair. I toss the condom, grab a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt, and head downstairs.

He’s standing in the kitchen, making coffee.

“What the fuck, Caleb! You can’t just walk in like that anymore!” I shout at him for making Emma feel uncomfortable in her own home.

“I knocked, and no one answered,” he says nonchalantly.

“Because we were fucking busy,” I glare at him, feeling like I could punch him for seeing her like that.

“You mean busyfucking.”

“She’s my wife. Is that a crime?” I narrow my eyes, watching him.

“Not in a court of law,” he says it low and slow, the disdain apparent.

“Why are you even here? I haven’t seen you in almost 11 months.” He shrugs again, pulling the coffee cup out from underneath the drip.

“Someone has to work, in case you’ve forgotten. Then, I was in the neighborhood and thought I would check in, see if the honeymooners are still going strong. And apparently, you are.” He holds his mug up, cheersing me.

What the fuck?I still work. Just because I was done doing his good ol’ boy shit, though, he’s pissed?

“What’s that supposed to mean? I told you I was getting too old to do that shit anymore, and you are too. We’re just supposed to keep going until one of us dies?” I’m fucking done toting the “Chets” and their packs of fraternal fuck buddies over mountain peaks. Where the fuck is this coming from?

Looking past me, he smiles and says, “Happy Birthday,Angel.” I turn around and find Emma blushing as she draws her damp hair up with a clip.

Angel?He’s always had nicknames for people. He calls Brit, Doll Face. I tolerate it because she doesn’t mind, but him calling my wife, Angel…fuckinghateit.

“Her name is Emma,” I say in a clipped tone, trying not to make a scene. Not sure whose sake that’s for.

“Alex,” she puts a hand on my forearm, “it’s okay. It’s fine.” Looking at Blanks, and with hardly any warmth, she says, “Thanks for the birthday wishes.” She moves past me, then him, to get a mug out to make her own coffee, and Blanks’ fist twitches like he’s about to reach out and do it for her.

Has it always been like this? Or am I just seeing it for the first time?

I look at him, my brows furrowed, and he arches an eyebrow, waiting. Daring me to make the accusation.

My nostrils flare in frustration, and I run a hand down my beard. I’m being paranoid. The glint off the foiled wedding invitation hanging in the mudroom catches in the light like a reminder.

“Just fucking knock, then leave if no one answers next time.”

“Understood,” he says. “Well, as much as I’d love to sit and chit-chat with the two of you, Alex. We need to have a word.”