Dishonor Thy Wife (15 page)

JAYDEN

We met up at the Minneapolis airport. Brad stuck his chin
out. “Chill out, Jayden. Don’t let a dingbat like Vanessa come between us,”

I gave him a cold look.

“Nice roses you sent by the way.”

The roses I sent Ronni, right. I slept with Brad’s wife.
A
twinge of guilt clouded my eyes but then anger over Vanessa made me see red
again. I trusted him. He should have kept his promise.

Brad held his hand out to me, biting his cheek. His
scratched hands made him appear as if he got into a fight with a wild cat.

I shook my brother’s hand. His smile never reached his eyes.

“Well, good luck with Vanessa.”

“Yeah, you, too.” he responded.

Was Brad wishing me luck with Ronni? I scratched my head, walking
towards the gate. When Brad mentioned the flowers I sent his wife, he did not
act upset. Did he read the notes with the roses, in particular the note
thanking Ronni for giving me what I wanted?

Well, my brother just gave me what I wanted—sex with his
wife without guilt. Brad gave me permission to sleep with Ronni!

Her hold over me was driving me nuts. It was just sex, nothing
more.
Yet, the airport spun around me at the thought of my sister-in-law.

Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will see her again. Her. Her.
Her.

A part of me wanted to see Ronni, a portion of me hated to, some
of me needed to, and all of me dreaded to be with her once more.

Whatever would I say to her?

“Hi, I’m back. Uh, you do not really know me but you do. I
am Brad’s identical twin brother, the man you slept with Saturday night and
several weeks before that. Oh, by the way, for old time’s sake, how about a
quickie before I return in a couple of days to Canada, after your husband Brad
breaks off my engagement, his engagement actually. By the way, your husband
asked another woman to marry him.”

God, help me, I imagined dragging Brad’s wife to the floor
and having hot sex with her.

I sat on my seat in the plane with my eyes closed, imagining
whispering into Ronni’s ear in a deep throaty voice, “What if I just rip your
pants off here on the stairs?”

Her voice rattled with desperation of her own. “My room.
Mine.”

You’re mine tonight,
I thought.
Mine, if only for
a night.

JAYDEN

It was too easy to step back into the role of playing Brad.

I snapped on the bedroom light and Ronni blinked her
sleep-filled eyes.

I lied about working late at the hospital, undressed, and
climbed into bed with her.

I cupped her crotch and humped against her. She mumbled
something about not disappointing me.

I ached with lust, pressing under the covers against her
leg. “Let me. Let me fu…make love to you.”

I was way beyond desire and might take her any way if she said
no, but Ronni was soft and pliable, moaning as she stroked me.

Oh, my god! She lowered her head and shyly kissed the tip. The
sight of her lips pecking me, her long hair stroking my thighs nearly drove me
insane.

I will go mad if I do not spill my seed into her.

Shit, didn’t think. I forgot to put on a rubber.

I lifted her head from my lap and reached for my pants
pocket.

She grabbed the prophylactic and tossed it. She sat down on
me, grinding her hips.

“But…”

Yeah, but.
Ronni was rocking with friction, circling
her hips, and I yelled out, collapsing into the mattress.

Oh, crap! I better not have made a baby with my
sister-in-law!

It was at spooning moments with her naked leg rubbing
against mine, our hands entwined, all relaxed by our lovemaking, that the
guilt seeped back. However, the night was long and the memory short. Even
though I was pretending to be Brad, Ronni had said yes
to
me
.

Then she went and ruined our after-sex cuddling by saying, “Let’s
make a baby, Brad,” or something like that. I cannot remember her exact words
because it sounded like a train roared down the tracks, right through my ears.

Mental note:
Do not get your sister-in-law pregnant. QUIT
HAVING SEX WITH HER! And don’t you dare think that the damage is already done
after tonight, you horny bastard! Buy a bushel of rubbers!

“No baby, no way, Ronni!” I climbed out of bed, twisting my
ankle in the sheets and landing on my ass on the carpet. Ass is right.
Brad
and Ronni do not sleep together. He would know! Brad would kill me!

Ronni scrambled across the bed and shone a flashlight in my
eyes, maybe to see if I was serious about not wanting a kid with her.

“Look, Ronni, I want you to death. I need you like the air I
breathe. You’re the drug that I crave, the high that I need.” Luckily, we did not
have the same taste in music
so
I could take credit for poetic lyrics. A romance dork like me quoted lines from
a song by
Pulp
. “You’re the habit I can’t seem to kick. You are the car
I never should have bought. You are the train I never should have caught.”

She did not get that the words to the song were my
confession. I had to end this...this sickness…this obsession for my
sister-in-law, but then Ronni walked up to me and began unbuttoning the front
of my shirt.

I smacked her fingers and could not button my shirt fast
enough because my hands were shaking.

She placed her hot lips against my skin and tasted me.

God, I could not breathe. She rained kisses down my chest
with each button she popped open, exposing more of my flesh.

I rocked my hips against her, sighing in defeat.

She yanked my shirt from my arms.

I gave her a quick kiss but mainly to divert her while I
slipped on a rubber.

I closed my eyes even as I pushed into her.
Oh, God, help
me from wanting to have intercourse with this woman.

Oh, Jesus, she feels good.

God, I want to have intercourse with her. Please.

After I found religion in her pussy and we were finished rolling
around the carpet, I pulled out and the rubber stuck to her leg.

 She picked up the prophylactic and slapped me in the face
with our unborn babies, well my half anyway. We were not even married and
already splitting the kids up.

I scowled back at her.
You have no idea, lady, what dumb
ass may have actually got you pregnant when he had unprotected sex with you
tonight.

I sprinted to the shower, pumping my biceps, and once more
attempted to wash my sister-in-law from my hair only Ronni’s smell was all over
me. No matter how much I scrubbed, I inhaled her like an aphrodisiac.

Yeah, I like to sing in the shower, who doesn’t? I sang some
more lyrics by Pulp.

“You are the party that makes me feel my age. You are a car
crash I see but cannot avoid. Like a plane, I’ve been told I never should
board.
You are the dream I never should have caught.”

Note: You are not in danger of losing your head over your
brother’s wife
but QUIT
SLEEPING WITH HER YOU MORON!

JAYDEN

Five days back in Austin, and I am still in love…I mean
infatuated…I mean obsessed…I mean pussy-whipped by my brother’s wife.

Note: Never use the word love where your sister-in-law is
concerned.

Okay, so we went from fucking to screwing to having
intercourse, and now we made love. It was just semantics really, no big deal.
Making love and being in love was not the same thing.

“Quit staring at me with accusation,”
I mumbled to
Brad’s office picture, which was snapped in a golf setting. Brad’s expression
was serious as if he was about to bash the opposing player’s head in with his
golf club. I turned the 8x10 face down and flipped the other pictures of Brad
hanging on the walls of his office.

This
thing
with my sister-in-law was not yet a
catastrophe. There was no word about a baby yet.

There was still no word from Brad either nor did I bother to
call. Apparently, Brad was just as loathe to leave Canada.

I placed my cowboy boots on Brad’s desk and knocked his
picture off. Yeah, I bought some boots in Texas, as
when in Rome, right? My brother’s picture went
sliding across the carpet and under the black leather sofa.

The door opened and the nurse said, “Your first patient is
waiting, Dr. O’Boyle.”

I strolled down the hall whistling.

I grabbed the chart by examining room number three and
opened the door without reading the patient’s name on the chart. My head was
down, scanning the info for vital data—a new patient with symptoms and
complaint left blank. “What seems to be the problem, Miss Knightly?”

“The name is Mrs. Simpson. Knightly is my maiden name, sugar.”

All the blood rushed from my face. Barbie wore only an
examining gown. Pillows supported her head. Her feet rested on stirrups. She spread
her legs wide open and was naked under her gown. She put on quite a production,
adjusting her pose, lifting her rump, wiggling her hips, and humping the air.

I threw a blanket over her exposed female parts. “Sit up,” I
barked. “You know damn well I’m not a gynecologist.”

“Well you should remove the stirrups from your examining
table then, or did you leave them up on purpose?”

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

She jumped off the table and cornered me, flinging her arms
around my neck. “You know what I want,
Brad
.”

“I told you before; I have the clap so...”

“Cut the bullshit, Dr. Tremblay.”

“What…what did you call me?”

“I know who you are, Jayden.” She walked her fingers down my
chest, her fingers headed towards my...

I peeled her arm from around my neck and grabbed her hands
to keep her from grabbing me like last time. “So you know who I am, Mrs.
Simpson.” All pretense of politeness was gone from my voice and I twisted her
arms behind her back. I preferred not to touch her but if I let go, she would
be pawing inside my pants.

“Call me Barbie, darling. Mrs. Simpson is my mother-in-law.”

“Brad told you about us.”

“You brother tells me everything,” she said, smirking.

“I’m sure he does.” The dislike on my face was apparent. Surely,
she would take the hint.

Barbie was so full of herself; my frigidness did not even faze
her.

She yanked her hands from my grasp and wiggled out of the
hospital gown. The material fell to her ankles and she stood stark naked. She
sucked in her stomach, thrusting her breasts out. She had a beautiful body and
knew it. “I’m dynamite in bed, just ask Brad.”

Right, as if I would do that.
Hey, bro, I want to have
sex with your soul mate. Is she any better than your wife, because I have had
her in the sack, also.
I preferred a softer woman
.
“I’ll leave so you can get dressed. You appear to
be in very good health.”

She pounced, wrapping her calves around my thigh and hanging
onto my belt, unbuckling it. “Don’t be so shy,” she said and pushed her tongue
out at me. “Fuck me, Jayden.” She laughed. “I hear you just got engaged but your
fiancé will never know about us since she is all the way down there in cold
Canada.”

“Canada is north,” I said, “which is way up from Texas.”

“It is? Geography was never my strongest ass-et especially
with my brain filled with horniness for you ever since Brad told me you’re his
twin brother.”

“You are Brad’s girlfriend,” I reminded her.

“I promise not to tell your brother either if that’s what’s
keeping you from hooking my feet in the stirrups and riding me hard. Brad has
been gone nearly a week. You must be dying for a woman.” She grabbed my hand,
cupping it on her crotch. “I’ll have you begging for it just like Brad does.” She
rocked, squeezing her thighs together, trapping my hand between her legs.

I lifted a brow at her and sneered, yanking my hand from
beneath her thighs.

She gasped. “You’re sleeping in the same house with Brad’s
wife. Are you having sex with that frigid bitch?”

“No,” I said a bit too quickly and defensively.

“Liar! I always know when Brad is fibbing so the same goes
for you. I promise not to spill the beans to Brad about you and Ronni so long
as you are nice to me. Think about it, doll face. If Ronni was better than me
in bed, why would Brad chase after me?”

“You expect me to fornicate with you so that Brad and I can
compare notes?”

“To fornicate sounds scientific. I was thinking more like wild
sex.”

I grasped the door handle. “Brad and I are not that close. Neither
of us is into sharing.”

She grabbed a gun from her purse poking my chin with the
barrel. “Call when you change your mind and you will, cupcake.” She ran the
pistol down my chest, pushing it against my crotch. She then set the gun next
to the computer on the small desk, jumped back on the table, and opened her
legs wide. She humped wildly, touching herself and grinning like the devil’s concubine.
“My number is listed on Brad’s cell phone,” she moaned.

I spun on my heel and grabbed the door handle.

“You’ll come around. It is going to be kooky with you, Jayden.
I should do you and Brad at the same time. Uh, uh, uh! You in the front and him
in the back. Uh, uh, uh!”

“No chance,” I said.

“Uh, uh, uh! Here it comes, Jayden. I’m exploding, imagining
you…”

I slammed the door, leaving Barbie alone and grunting like a
pig.

I headed straight for the men’s bathroom to hide. My hands
were shaking. She had no proof about Ronni and me.

I waited five minutes and then peeked into the examining
room. Barbie must have been so hot and bothered by her own fingers that she
left behind the gun. I slipped some gloves on because touching anything Barbie
had touched sickened me. I then dropped the gun in a plastic bag.

Before driving to lunch, I hid the gun in the glove
compartment of the Mercedes.

I ordered at the restaurant, waiting for my meal.

My phone pinged with a text. I snorted in disgust. Barbie
texted me a video of her lying naked on the examination table and poking
herself. She then put a finger in her mouth and winked.

 I hit delete and then dialed the phone, punching the
numbers so hard that my fingertip was bruised.

The call went straight to voicemail.

“Brad, this is Jayden. Call me when you get a chance. It is
important. Got that?” I was cut off after the word ‘It’.

The phone warbled because my eyes were having a hard time
focusing.

I punched in the number again, clenching my fists and trying
to calm down.

Again, I got his voice mail. I yelled into the phone, “Call
off your mistress, Brad. Barbie knows about our masquerade. You promised not to
tell anyone!”

I hit the
end
button and then tried once more. Three
times was usually the charm.

There was heavy breathing at the other end of the line.

“Did you hear Brad? Answer me! What are you doing about
Vanessa?”

“What’s going on, goddamnit? Brad? Are you there?”

A high-pitched voice answered, chuckling into the phone, “If
you would like to leave a message, please insert a quarter into your butthole.”

Click.

The phone went dead.