Page 39 of Husband to Go

“I thought you had to go,” I say with confusion, brushing my hair out of my face.

He looks thoughtful.

“I think I can spare some time to talk, sweetheart.”

I smile, happy he blew past my expectations. He pats his lap, so I lay down, resting my head on his legs. He gently strokes my curls, keeping them out of my face.

“Kylie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry it was like this. I’m going to find a way, I promise.”

What’s wrong with the way I suggested, where he breaks up with my mom? But I know this isn’t the time to launch into another diatribe.

“It’s okay,” I say softly, closing my eyes. Suddenly, exhaustion overwhelms me, and I fall asleep cushioned in his lap. Maybe we haven’t resolved anything yet, but in my heart of hearts, I have faith that we will because Tanner means too much to me now. I thought we could blow this off as an ill-fated affair, but now, I know I can’t stand being the other woman. I need him to be all mine, and in my heart of hearts, I hope that that’s what he wants too.

12

Tanner

It killed me to leave Kylie last night, but I had to. I knew I wouldn’t be able to spend the night with her, and it wasn’t because I have some kind of aversion to sleeping with women in general. I’ve spent the night with women before. I was more worried I might never leave if I fell into her embrace.

Holy shit. I’m in a world of confusion. This whole thing with Kylie has evolved into something way beyond my control. I mean, the anal alone is insane. I can’t believe the girl is so dirty.

But I love it. I love how she’s absolutely filthy, and yet innocent and naïve at the same time. She fulfills something in me that I didn’t know existed, and I can’t imagine life without Kylie now.

Yet I haven’t made any changes to my plans to marry Veronica, and it’s partially because I’m an asshole. Honestly, the fact that I’m marrying her mom makes the whole thing hotter to me. It’s so wrong. I guess I’m pretty fucked up myself, and that’s part of the reason why I can’t get in a relationship with Kylie – because she’s too good for me. She deserves a normal, uncomplicated man and not some guy who gets his rocks off from taboo situations like this.

Also, I know that this could all blow up in my face. It’s not hard to see how that might happen. Last night, it became clear that Kylie wants more from me. She’s not hiding her hopes, aspirations, or dreams from me anymore. But am I ready for that?

I have no idea.

After all, I’ve been planning my conquest of the New York real estate market for some time now, and unfortunately, Veronica has a key part in those plans. Should I throw it all the window because of a beautiful college girl who gets me off faster than any other woman I’ve met?

I don’t know. I pride myself on not thinking with my dick, but given Kylie’s beauty and innocence, clearly, my faculties are impaired right now.

I try to forget about this for a little bit because I’m already running late. Veronica asked me to come over today, and I said yes. It sounds fucked up. One day with the daughter, the next with the mother.

But she’s my fiancée, so reluctantly, I take the elevator to her apartment and ring the doorbell. The door opens, and there’s Veronica, done up to the nines.

“Tanner, hi! Come in,” she smirks. I walk inside, immediately making comparisons between mother and daughter. I can tell she spent hours doing her makeup because the skin on her face is a different color than the skin on her neck. Her hair hangs in gilded waves down her narrow back, and the woman is painfully thin to boot.

Kylie, on the other hand, was beautiful last night. She didn’t have on a stitch of makeup, but she positively glowed regardless. And she’s so open with me. Veronica always has a wall up, which I guess isn’t strange given that she works in real estate. People in our business aren’t exactly candid and open. Plus, it’s tit for tat. A wall was something I wanted because I don’t exactly share my deepest self with her.

But do I want to with Kylie?

It shouldn’t really matter because I came here to forget about Kylie and to focus once more on business.

Soon, we’re seated and sipping from glasses of wine. I look at my fiancée, who by all means is a very attractive woman. I’m marrying her in part because New York society expects to see a woman like this on my arm: thin, blonde, and crafty. Plus, I’ve always adored older women. It’s something that’s always worked for me, mainly because I don’t want kids. Older women are amenable to that, especially if they already have children.

Younger women on the other hand? They almost always want rug rats, and I’m not on board with that. Thus, my preference for mature ladies.

But these past few weeks, I’ve been reevaluating my life in ways I never have before. My past beliefs about relationships have literally been blown to smithereens, and it’s all thanks to Kylie.

She’s young. Younger than I’m naturally comfortable with. But somehow, I’m drawn to her, and with Kylie, the prospect of children doesn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounds amazing. I’d love to see that curvy figure grow rounder as she fills with my child. In fact, I can imagine Kylie pregnant multiple times as her fertile form grows with my seed again and again.

Holy shit. Am I going insane? Do I literally want to breed this woman? But how can that be? I’ve never felt this way before. If anything, I’ve avoided fertile women like the plague because they have demands. Needs that I don’t share, and as a result, I’ve generally avoided women under forty.