Husband Sit (Husband #1) (13 page)

Damien
had locked me in.

I
took my hands off the door and stepped back from it as though it was poisonous,
my scalp prickling with apprehension. Every fear I’d harbored in the last two
days came rushing back and I hugged my shoulders, not able to fight them
anymore.

This
was wrong.

This
was very wrong.

And
I had to leave. Now. But how could I?

I
turned and ran into my room, grabbing my phone out of my handbag. Four missed
calls. All of them from Finn.

I
didn’t think. I just hit redial, and three rings later his warm and completely
reassuring voice said, “Jill, I know I should be—”

“Shut
up. I’m in trouble. I need your help.” My voice was shaking uncontrollably.

He
must have heard it, because all he said was, “Where are you?”

“I’m
locked into an apartment. I don’t trust the husband. I think he’s going to hurt
me.”

I
heard his sharp intake of breath down the phone line. “Can you ring the
police?”

“They
won’t believe me.”

Somehow,
I was sure of that.

“Let
me think.”

God,
it was good to hear his voice. I completely forgot all my stupid angst about
liking him too much. Physical danger does marvelous things for your clarity of
mind.

At
last he said, “What’s your address?”

I
rattled it off and he said, “Sydney.”

I’d
forgotten that he’d have no idea I’d travelled five hundred miles from him.

After
a few seconds of silence at my end, he said, “Can you call an emergency
locksmith?”

“An
emergency...what?” My teeth chattered and I couldn’t think.

“I’ll
ring them,” he said. “I’ll make up a lie. I’ll tell them my wife locked herself
in, and has to catch a flight. I’ll pay them from here. They’ll open the door
for you.”

“Won’t
they want ID? You could be a burglar—”

“The
locksmith will be letting you
out
, honey,” Finn said slowly, as though
explaining to a child. “That won’t look suspicious.”

“Okay.”
I was too frightened to worry about how stupid I sounded.

“When
you’re free, you need to leave—”

“But
my car is across town in a long-term car park.” A wave of panic rolled over me,
pulling me down. “I don’t know how to—”

“Do
you have money for a taxi?”

I
caught my breath, forced myself to think. “I...yes. I do.”

“Somewhere
to go?”

Not
in this condition.

Missy
Lou and Angela both lived in Sydney, but I’d have no chance of keeping my
activities secret if I went to one of them. My mind was horribly blank and I
was suddenly terrified that I’d be dithering around and Damien would come back.
“I don’t know what to
do
.” I couldn’t breathe.

There
was a two second pause before he said, “I’ll catch a flight. I’ll come to you.”

“Will
you?” I sounded so pathetic I didn’t recognize myself.

“You
catch a taxi to the airport and wait for me there. I won’t be long. I’ll help
you work out what to do.”

My
galloping heart-rate steadied.

“Alright.”
Taxi to the airport. I could do that.

“Good.
And call me if you’re scared. I’m on the way, honey.” I wanted to cry for how
reassured I felt. I had zero resistance, so when he called me
honey,
my
heart melted. Unfortunately, I was so distracted by that, I almost missed him
saying, “If he comes back before you escape, you’ll have to bluff. If you’re
not at the airport, I’ll come to you. We’ll tell him that I’m your husband,
come to take you home. He won’t argue with that.”

I
sniffed back tears. “I’m...thank you.” I wanted to say
I don’t deserve your
kindness
but I wanted it anyway.

“Go
and pack, Jill. I’ll text you when the locksmith is on the way. Ring a taxi
when he gets there. With luck you’ll be out quickly and I’ll see you at the
airport.”

“Okay.”

He
hung up then, but I wished I’d said more. I wished I’d said,
Katinka doesn’t
deserve you
because that was the truth. Instead I stopped blubbering and
packed. Half an hour later the locksmith arrived. Twenty minutes after that I
was in a taxi on my way to the airport to meet Finn’s incoming flight, trying
not to cry, but my emotions were all over the place and my ass hurt like hell
on the hard leather taxi seat.

To
add insult to stupidity, I’d changed into a tight red cocktail dress and heels,
as though I was going to a party! If my boobs had been pushed any higher,
they’d have choked me. In my hysteria, it had seemed like a good idea, as if I
was rewarding Finn for coming to my rescue, which was ridiculous. He’d made it
very clear that he regretted what we’d done. The last thing he’d want was
thank
you
sex. I had to get that out of my head.

Didn’t
I?

I had no
idea which terminal Finn would come into, so I teetered around looking for a
locker to store my bags, then I scuttled into the back of a dimly-lit bar to
wait, standing up because my ass hurt, feeling ridiculous in my red cocktail
dress. I texted to let him know where I was, and three whiskies later he walked
in, looking anxious and gorgeous and warm and delicious in jeans and a black
sweatshirt with some sort of computer code on it.

His
blond dreads looked like pale butterscotch in the dim lighting, and they were
endearingly tousled against his shoulders, as though he’d rushed to me without
caring what he looked like.

He
took my cold hands in his and I felt warm all over. “Are you alright?” Even his
frown was sexy.

“I’m
fine.” I tried to smile but it didn’t stick. “No, actually. I’m not fine. I’m
shaken and aching, and my ass burns.”

I’m
not sure what I expected, but he blinked. Several times. Then he said,
“Pardon?” His gaze strayed down over my red cocktail dress, scoping the length
of my legs in high heels, before settling onto my pushed-up boobs. At last, he
managed to drag his attention back to my face. “Your ass...burns?”

“He
whipped it.”

“
Fuck
.”
His eyes widened.

“I
know.”

I
loved that he swore. Like me.

He
let go my hands and gripped my upper arms, his frown deepening. I suddenly
realized his eyes went darker when he was upset. They were a deep green now. I
hadn’t noticed that before. “I think we should go to the police.”

I
was so lost in his eyes, it took me a second to comprehend what he’d said. Then
I was shaking my head. “I can’t.” Part of me was standing outside myself,
wondering how much I was going to tell him. It was a sordid story.

“What
did he do to you?” He looked so anxious I wanted to throw myself into his arms.

Instead,
I took a breath, and for better or worse, I said, “He tied me up, whipped my
ass, and then he fucked it. My ass,” I clarified, lowering my voice in
deference to the couple who were walking past us to the next table.

“
Jesus
.”
He looked so stricken I couldn’t bear it. I had to come clean.

“I
liked it while he was doing it. But I didn’t want any more. And I got scared
when he locked me in.”

“He
fucked you up the ass?” Clearly, he was stuck on this point.

“Yes
he did. Among other things.”

“And
you liked it?” Finn couldn’t have looked more incredulous if he’d tried. In
fact, for a split-second I wanted to slap the expression off his face.

“Does
that make me a dirty girl?” I snapped. The couple beside us glanced over so I
lowered my voice to hiss, “Don’t tell me you didn’t want to do that with me.”

He
shook his head. “I never imagined.” And just when I was feeling like the
trollop of the century, he said, “But I’m imagining it now. Jesus! You liked
it?”

My
cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t embarrassment. Despite all that had happened, and
my various aches and pains, I could feel my girl bits waking up to the familiar
warmth of arousal—as least, familiar around Finn. I looked him square in the
eye and said, “I loved it, and I want it again.”

I
saw him swallow, then his hands came off my arms. “Jesus,” he said again softly
and glanced away. “What am I doing here?”

“Rescuing
me from bondage-gone-wrong.”

‘Why
would you tell me that?” He shook his head. “I’ve already fucked you once. I
can imagine the whole...ass thing in glorious detail.”

I
loved it when he talked dirty. And I double-loved the fact that he was now
fantasizing about my back door. “So does that turn you on?” Rhetorical
question. I could see the heat in his gaze. “Are you imagining doing it to me
yourself? Whipping my ass?”

He
shook his head, but there was something dark happening behind his eyes, and I
just
knew
he was visualizing that, whether he wanted to or not.

So
help me, I was visualizing it too, but it wasn’t all slutty like it had been
with Damien, because with Finn it would be the two of us exploring, ramping up
the heat, taking turns to tie each other up, pushing each other to bigger and
better orgasms. It would be
mutual
and safe, and when we’d sexed each
other senseless, we’d laugh about how crazy it all was.

Staring
into his eyes, I could see it all so clearly, could imagine it all in wonderful
Technicolor. Except for two tiny details.

His
wife. My job.

Damn
reality. Life would be so much easier without it. But there was no point
pretending it didn’t exist. So I pasted on a fake smile. “Did you tell her we
had sex?”

He
stared at me as the seconds ticked over, but eventually he nodded.

“Good.”
I’d wanted her to be jealous so she’d appreciate him more. It also helped to
imagine someone hurting the way I was in that moment—a terrible ache of longing
for what I couldn’t have—knowing it was wrong to want him, but wanting him
anyway.

I
tilted my chin up. “Then you’re
not
rescuing me so you can fuck me
yourself.”

He
shook his head, and actually took a pace backwards as if he didn’t trust
himself to stand so close.

“Then
why are you here?” Lord knows why I asked that. I was scared of the answer.

“You
rang, and...I came.”

He
said it as if it should be self-explanatory, but clearly, he hadn’t thought it
through either.

“And
you’re determined to be faithful to your wife, despite the fact that she’s been
cheating on you for years.”

“With
a girl.”

“That
makes it okay?”

The
couple beside us had gone silent again, but I didn’t care. I wanted Finn to
admit that there was something happening between us, beyond sex. I wanted him
to tell me he cared about me, even if he never left Katinka. Surely I could
have that.

At
last he said, “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“Oh
I see. I’m a ‘wrong’ now?”

He
shook his head again, and I could see my antagonism was hurting him, but I
couldn’t stop. The longer we were together, the more I suspected he was the
honorable man I’d been waiting for, the man who wouldn’t cheat on his wife even
though he clearly wanted to—the sexy, kind, thoughtful man I wanted to have
naughty and normal sex with for the rest of my life.

But
that wasn’t going to happen.

I
thrust out a hand. “Thank you for springing me from lock-down, but I’ve got
work to do. I’d better keep moving.”

His
incredulous expression returned. “Pardon?”

“My
next husband sit.”

He
made no move to shake my hand, so I dropped it. “I need to ice this ass and get
myself back into shape by the weekend. I’m booked back-to-back.” I smiled as
though that was innuendo.

Finn
shook his head. “You’re going to keep doing this?”

I
parroted his rising tone, “You’re staying married to Katinka?”

“Please
don’t do it, Jill.”

He
said my name so softly it made me ache, but I shook my head. “You don’t get to
ask that.”

I
wanted to say worse but he looked so upset, my conscience was stung. I forced
myself to say, “I do appreciate you helping me when I was desperate. That means
a lot.”

He
nodded. “You’re welcome.” But he didn’t seem ready to end our interaction and I
started to feel anxious. If he kept standing there looking sexy and rumpled, I
might not be able to control myself. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be begging him to
stay.

I
slipped some dismissal into my tone and said, “Maybe you can catch a flight
back before she misses you.” Laying down the guilt card.

He
didn’t flinch. “She’s away for the week.”

“With
her girlfriend?”

I’m
such a bitch.

“Probably.
She took off rather than stay and talk to me about us.”

Hearing
him talk about his marriage as
us
pushed my jealousy buttons, but I
ignored that.
He looked hurt and betrayed, as you’d imagine he would,
but instead, I wanted him to be angry. With her, or with me. I didn’t care
which.

I
raised an eyebrow. “So you
could
stay. She’d never know.”

He
stared at me for a long time. Then he shook his head. “You said you were sore.”

He
probably meant that as a joke, but I saw it as an opportunity. “My ass must be
raw. You should see it. It’s probably got belt marks all over it.” I watched
his eyes darken. “Does that excite you? The thought of another man whipping me
before he fucked me. Would you like to do that?”

“No,”
he said softly, then just when I expected him to say
I’m married
, he
added, “I’d rather kiss it better.”

My
animosity slipped away and I caught my breath. Dear God. Was this it? Was he
going to pick me?

“Then
do it,” I blurted. “Take me to a hotel and make the pain go away.”

“Why?”
he said simply. “Why do you want to? You could fuck anyone. Why me?”

Because
I think I’m falling in love with you
.

No.
I wasn’t saying that.

Once
those words were out, you couldn’t recall them, and I didn’t even know if he
liked me beyond sex. Let alone that he could love me. Add to which, no man is
going to want to be with a woman who fucks husbands. It was never going to
work.

I
settled on smiling guilelessly. “I said I’d teach you cunnilingus. Don’t you
want to please your wife?”

No.
No. NO!
That’s
not what I wanted—for him to go from my bed to hers. That would kill me. I was
such
a fuckwit! And so caught up in my own stupidity it took me a moment to
realize something was happening behind his eyes.

At
last he said, “This man who beat you. Did he also lick you out?” He said it as
an accusation.

Uh-oh
.

“Pardon?”
I stalled for time and glanced to my side. The couple at the table beside us
were eavesdropping avidly, their eyes wide.

“Jill?
Did he?”

Fuck
. “Yes?”

“Was
it good?”

It
was spectacular, but I wasn’t telling him that. Unfortunately, the delay
between his question and my response was too long, and by the time I was
stammering, “Well it was quick, and—”

“Good?
It was really good? And you loved that as well? Along with the whipping and
being fucked up the ass which you adored?”

He
looked angry now, but there was a resignation with it that didn’t bode well.
Then he shook his head. “What was I thinking?” Before I could answer, he went
on with, “You don’t want hot sex with me. I’m the charity case—”

“
You
don’t want
any
sex with me!” I shot back. “So don’t get on your high
horse and—”

He
grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a hard kiss that instantly woke my
aching pussy into happy little clutches of joy. I dropped my handbag and wound
my arms around his neck, grinding my abraded breasts against his chest as I
kissed him back, wet and needy, my tongue laving his, wanting to push him over the
edge.

Wanting
him to fuck me where I stood, actually.

But
I knew that wouldn’t happen. So we kissed on and on, and my face felt hot, my
ears buzzing so much I thought I’d faint. And then I heard a repetitive
beeping, and was completely disoriented when he pulled away from me. Cold air
swept down my front and I watched on helplessly as he pulled a phone out of his
jeans, swiped the screen and put it up to his ear.

His
gaze returned to me. “Hello?” He sounded husky and impossibly sexy.

A
shrill voice came through the speaker and a sense of inevitability washed over
me. It was Katinka. She was pulling on the leash, and he would go home. He’d
kissed me like he meant it but that didn’t matter. What Katinka wanted, she
got. She wanted Finn. She’d get him. If he’d stuck with her this long while
she’d cheated on him, he was hardly likely to give her up for a girl who fucked
husbands.

“I’m
at the airport,” he said. “Picking up an old client. I won’t be long. I just
have to get them to a hotel and make sure they don’t need anything.”

None
of it was a lie, but his wife would imagine he was still at Surfers Paradise,
driving some old man to the Hilton and making sure he had the room service
number.

“Are
you coming home?” he asked, still staring at me. “We have to talk.”

I
closed my eyes and wanted to be anywhere but standing in front of him listening
to this. It was embarrassing. Which was odd. I now fucked husbands for a
living. But the idea that the couple beside us would think I was a mistress
about to be abandoned was humiliating.