Husband Sit (Husband #1) (14 page)

I
had to get away before his
I need to save my marriage
speech started, so
I reached down and picked up my handbag.

Finn
caught my arm. “Probably two hours,” he said into the phone. “I’ve got to go
now. I’ll ring you then.” He hung up without waiting for her response and said,
“I’m sorry.”

I
shook my head. “Don’t kiss me again.”

And
please let me go. I really need to crawl into a dark corner and forget this
whole thing. Maybe with a bottle of whisky.

“Will
you be okay?”

I
could tell that wasn’t what he wanted to say, but whatever had been happening
before the phone call was over.

I
nodded. “You can stable the white horse. I’m fine to look after myself now.”

“I
hope so.”

I
know he didn’t mean to sound cruel—he was hoping I would be okay, not hoping
that I wouldn’t call him. But it sounded bad, and I was acutely aware of the
couple beside us.

I
shrugged. “Give my love to your cheating, slut wife.”

His
stiff mask loosened. “Give my best to your next fucked-up husband.”

“It’s
a son, actually.” A calculated volley, designed to shock. I’d probably never
see Finn again, so he may as well think badly of me. “His mother didn’t want
some ‘diseased, drug-peddling, high-school girl’ in her house while she went on
holiday, so she hired me to keep Simon happy at home with clean, wholesome sex
and three healthy meals a day.”

Finn’s
smile faded. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-two,”
I bragged. “And as horny as hell. He told me he can get it up five times a
night. I doubt he’ll be interested in cunnilingus, but my skills in fellatio
will definitely be in demand.”

Let
Finn lie in bed thinking about
that
while Katinka snored beside him.

He
shook his head, lips pressed into a tight line, his beautiful eyes narrowed.
Disapproving, I’ll bet.

I
bulldozed on, “So thanks for the cunt-teasing.” I turned a bland smile on the
couple beside us who had the good grace to glance away embarrassed.

If
I expected Finn to be completely put off by my use of the C-bomb, I was in for
a shock. He merely shook my hand and said quietly, “Call me if you need me.”

Ha!

“I’ll
be deleting your number from my phone,” I snapped, evil Jill taking control.
“Don’t bother to call me again.” Then with chin up and hair swishing, I marched
out of the bar as fast as a burning ass and high heels would allow. There was
no way I wanted to experience this horrible longing again. Unrequited love was
not a noble thing. It hurt like a bastard and I wanted it over with.

Naturally,
I wanted to hate Finn for inflicting that pain on me, but it was more
complicated with that. So I settled on hating myself as I teetered onto a
moving sidewalk, ignoring the curious glances of people who rightly thought I
was over-dressed for the airport. I tugged on the bottom of my tight red
cocktail dress to try and lower its hem, only managing to expose more cleavage
at the top. If I wasn’t careful, I’d have nipples showing.

After
retrieving my cases from their locker, I headed through the airport, trying to
clear my brain of Finn and his hot, hungry mouth so I could plan my future. I
had a sister to worry about, and Brittany—ungrateful thought she was—deserved
my complete commitment.

First
up, I had to retrieve my car from the long term car park. Then I had to think
about where to go. I had four days before I needed to be at Simon’s house, and
I didn’t want to spend that time alone. Self-loathing had a way of smothering
me if I wasn’t distracted. The antidote was girlfriend time, and Angel was the
closest at Parramatta.

In
my whisky induced fog, I couldn’t remember why I hadn’t gone there for comfort
in the first place. I was sure she’d let me crash for a few days, and her
obsessive compulsive celebrity-watching disorder was always good for a laugh.

Five
minutes later, I was out of the terminal into the cool night air where I
quickly found a taxi and jumped in while my leering driver put my cases in the
trunk. When he lumbered into the front seat, I gave him the address of the long
term car park before pulling out my phone to call Fritha. I needed to download,
and it gave me an excuse to avoid small talk with the driver who’d given my
legs and boobs way too much attention when I’d tottered unevenly up to his cab.

The
message screen of the phone was blank and that opened up a fresh ache inside.
I’d half-expected to find a missed call from Finn, but he’d clearly taken my
words at face value. I tried to be grateful for that as I dialed Fritha and
pressed the phone hard against my ear. He’d be easier to get over if I never
heard from him again.

The
phone rang for ages. Then finally, I heard her sleepy voice on the other end. “
J?
What time is it?
”

I
glanced at the display in the front of the taxi. “Ten forty-three. Sorry. I’ve
just escaped from a locked apartment and had a huge public argument with Finn.”

“
Finn!
”
I heard scraping sounds and a bang. Had she dropped the phone? “
Where are
you?
”

“In
a taxi on my way to my car. I’ve got my suitcases—”

“
Still
in Sydney?
”

“At
the airport. That’s where I met Finn.”

A
beat of silence. “
He flew in to see you?
” Her voice was growing more
avid by the moment, and I could hear the match-making wheels turning in her
head.

“He’s
not leaving his wife, Frith.” I was sorry to disappoint her. Very sorry, in
fact. “He just organized the locksmith to free me from the psycho husband’s
apartment and then...I don’t know. He came down to make sure I was okay.”

“
Because..?
”

“He
didn’t seem to know why.” I looked out the window at streetlights flashing by
and gnawed on a fingernail.

“
And
you told him to fuck off?
”

“He
kissed me first.”

“
Holy
shit in a handbag! He kissed you?
”

I
smiled at my reflection in the window. “It was fucking fabulous too,” I
whispered. “He’s such a good kisser.”

“
J,
you twat! You let him get away!
”

“Katinka-bitch
rang him and wanted to know where he was.”

“
Did
he lie to her?
” Fritha sounded as though she was holding her breath.

“Yes,
he—”

“
Oh
my God. He’s in love with you!
”

“No,
he’s not. He went back to his wife.”

“
He
bloody, bloody is!
” Fritha shouted. “
He’s head over heels. Oh my God…
”
There were clunking noises before her voice came back on breathlessly. “
I
don’t have a real bridesmaid dress. Fuck, J. You won’t make me wear pink, will
you? It looks shit with my hair.
”

I
think I got hysterical then. I was laughing and crying and was a mess of
slobbery tears for about a minute. At last, when I settled down, Fritha said, “
Poor
baby. Come to my place. I’ll give you a back rub and we can plan the reception.
”

I
shook my head. “I’m going to Angel’s.”

There
was silence for a second, before Frith said, “
Is that wise? I mean, in light
of the husband sitting thing. I thought you were going to avoid the other girls
.”

“No.”
I suddenly felt affronted. “I just wasn’t going to tell them. I’m not
contagious.”

“
I
know that. It’s just...
” Frith was so transparent. She was clearly trying
to think of a tactful way to warn me off. “
When they eventually find out,
maybe they’ll think back and...
”

“What?
Wonder if I fucked their husbands while they were asleep?”

“
Come
to me
,” Frith pleaded, and for five slow seconds I considered hanging up in
her ear, and I never
did that. Eventually reason seeped past my growing
whisky fog and I decided not to shoot the messenger.

“Okay.
I’ll go to a spa or something.” I turned further away from the driver and
lowered my voice to a whisper. “The psycho husband beat my ass with his belt
and I’m sore as hell. I need to get that sorted.”

“
Oh
baby
.”

I
could hear the compassion in Fritha’s voice but I was a big girl.

“It
wasn’t all bad,” I whispered. “In fact, it felt pretty good at the time. I was
enjoying it all until he locked me in.”

Fritha’s
voice was firm when it came down the line. “
Did you get that clause written
into your contract, about the client not being able to retract payment?
”

“Yep.
And I’ll take photos of the damage. Might even see a doctor to get a medical
report. If they try to sue me, I’ll threaten to go public.”

“
Good
girl
.”

Talking
about ‘business’ seemed to settle my emotions, so Frith and I chatted on about
property prices and where I might like to buy my house, keeping the cover story
real in her mind. Eventually her yawns encouraged me to let her sleep. The
driver dropped me and my luggage outside the long-term car park at eleven
fifteen at night, and the warmth I’d gotten from girlfriend-goodness faded.

In
a dimly-sit street in front of a multi-story building with a million dark
corners, I suddenly felt cold and lonely and abandoned, wishing like hell that
I’d worn anything other than a bright red cocktail dress and ridiculous heels.
There didn’t seem to be anyone about, but I still hurried, looking over my
shoulder, fretting about the empty elevator, and what would happen if someone
got in.

Eventually
I reached my car, threw the suitcases in and locked myself inside. I felt like
a complete idiot then. My emotional superiority with Finn had been ridiculous.
I should have let him escort me to my car. He would have come in the taxi with
me, I’ll bet. He’d have been by my side, making me feel safe and protected and
cared for. Instead, here I was again: middle of the night, nowhere to stay, all
on my own.

I
was tired then. Tired of the whole thing. And I wished for nothing more than to
be normal, to have a boring life, and a boring husband, and boring sex. I
wanted to be tucked into bed by someone who cared about me, and for the very
first time I wondered if I’d done the wrong thing in leaving Doug. Fritha had
tried to talk me out of it at the time—partly because of her ongoing fantasy
about wearing a rainbow-colored bridesmaid’s dress—but I’d told her there was
nothing worse than a life of quiet desperation bound to a man I felt no desire
for. 

Was
that still true?

I
put the key into the ignition and shook my head. How far down the bottom of the
barrel was I sliding, wondering if I should have stayed with Doug! I should
never have had those whiskies.

This
clearly wasn’t the time to be analyzing important decisions. I needed food and
sleep. When I was rested and feeling more emotionally strong, I’d delete Finn’s
phone number, because I never wanted to embarrass myself by being that needy
again.

Or
at least, that was my plan.

After
five days of sitting on a squishy icepack in a lonely hotel room, I was ready
to move on—tired of thinking about Finn and what the hell my life had become.
It
was what it was
. I just needed to push through it.

So
I found myself standing in the kitchen of a renovated terraced house in trendy
Paddington waiting for Simon to arrive home from college. Unlike my debacle
with Damien, this time I had very clear instructions about what would go down
(or who would). So I waited in my sensible white blouse, denim knee-length
skirt and ballet flats, knowing I was to offer blueberry muffins and fruit for
afternoon tea, then let Simon do any homework before ‘recreation’ was available
to him.

His
mother had wanted to meet with me before she flew out, to give final
instructions. I should have known better, but due to low self-esteem, I
couldn’t say no. It was a humiliating experience, as I’d expected it to be. She
was only a decade older than me, but she’d seen fit to give me condoms (as if I
was too stupid to bring them with me) and then she set out demands about
limiting his usage of murdering computer games and Internet pornography.
Clearly, I was to offer sex as an alternative to these ‘unsavory pursuits’, but
only at designated times.

The
rebellious part of me wanted to say
Fuck you, Mrs. Simon’s mother. I’ll
screw your adult son whenever I want to
. But the desperate sister in me
knew I’d try to follow the rules—it was my best chance of snagging the two
grand bonus if Simon logged on for less than ten hours of porn in the
fortnight. Apparently, his usual usage was five times that.

With
the payment for this job already transferred to the hospital in Bangkok, I only
needed another fifty to get Brittany home. Being over halfway there was a
relief, and I still couldn’t quite believe that people paid so much for sex,
but I was grateful—unlike Brittany, who alternated between being bored and
being cranky during our brief daily phone calls.

I
told myself that cranky was better than sick, and hoped she’d stay put in the
hotel and not get into any dramas before I could bring her home. Of course, how
I’d keep her away from losers when she got home, was a whole other problem I
didn’t want to think about yet.

So
I sipped my filtered water and gazed out the big picture windows off the
kitchen into the leafy courtyard beyond, thinking about Simon and how clever he
was. It was clear to me that if he was watching fifty hours of porn a
fortnight, as well as being a full-time college student, he probably wasn’t
getting any sex—schoolgirl variety or otherwise—and had likely manipulated his
mother into thinking he did, so she’d hire me. But whatever. I had the job, and
if she needed to give me some
I’m the mother, no one knows my son better
than me
attitude, I could care less.

All
I was interested in was the money.

I’d
particularly like to snag the bonus for keeping Simon away from his laptop, but
how I’d do that, short of hiding it, or tying him up would be...

Wait
a minute.
Tying him up?

I
was just thinking about that when I heard a key in the front door. The
single-story, narrow, terraced house had a hallway running down one side of it
with everything coming off that hallway: two bedrooms, a lounge, a bathroom and
a kitchen. Then the tiny courtyard at the back. From where I stood, I could
step out of the kitchen and see him walk in the front door, but instinct kept
me beside the sink. He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch, and I wanted him off guard.
Let him wonder if I was even there.

I
heard him call out, “Jill Sitter?” from the opened door, and it reminded me how
smarmy he’d been when I’d refused to give my surname. At the time, I’d put his
bravado down to nerves. Now, however, I wasn’t so sure.

The
front door closed, then another opened—probably his bedroom, then I heard his
footsteps on the timber floorboards. A second door opened. That would be his
mother’s bedroom which I was inhabiting, with strict instructions
not
to
have sex in her bed. Even I agreed that was a disgusting idea. But I wasn’t
thinking about that now. I was thinking that Simon hadn’t knocked. He’d just
opened my bedroom door and either looked in, or gone into it looking for me.

And
fuck that. What about privacy?

I
straightened and took a quiet step away from the sink.

“Simon!”
I shouted, as though I was letting him know where I was, but I’d heard his
footsteps. He was probably at the lounge room by now, only ten paces away, so
hopefully I’d have scared him. “I’m in the kitchen!”

“Alright,
already!” he snapped, then he came around the corner, tall, dark-haired and
rangy in a blue tee-shirt and board-shorts with that over-grown hair that makes
men look as if they’re wannabe boy band members. He frowned at my clothes. “I
thought you’d be wearing something sexy.”

I
decided I might cut his hair while he slept.

“Afternoon
tea.” I pointed at the table with its plate of muffins and artfully constructed
fruit platter.

He
shook his head. “You’re not my mother.”

“
Au
contraire
.” I smiled. “My client is paying me for several duties. One is to
replicate her provision of food. I don’t have to cook it, but I do have to
serve it.”

“
I’m
the client,” he said with a sulky pout that would be cute on a toddler. But on
a twenty-two year old? Not so much. Still, he sat at the table and reached for
a muffin.

“Milk
with that?”

“I’m
not five,” he snapped, breaking open the muffin. “And we’re doing things my
way.
I’m
the client.”

In
his dreams.

“Buddy,
if this was a house sit, you’d be the dog.”

The
moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d gone too far, but instead of
getting crankier, he smiled up at me with a surprisingly sexy look in his eyes.
I suddenly noticed he had plump, kissable lips. “So we’re doing it doggy style
then?”

I
wanted to frown at his cheek, but I had to admit that I liked a good dogging.
I’d sure as hell liked it when Finn had...

Fuck.

That
was all it took for the bastard to flood into my thoughts with his butterscotch
dreadlocks and his sexy green eyes. The thought of never seeing him again, never
feeling those large hands on my body or that gigantor cock pounding me, made
the inside of my ribs ache. And I didn’t want that. I wanted to be strong and
independent and
happy
. Not pining over what I couldn’t have.

I
needed to erase Finn from of my mind, and Fritha’s sweet voice came to my
rescue with
The best way to get over one man is to fuck another.

Lots
of times.

To
hell with afternoon tea.

“No
dogging the first time,” I replied archly, and opened the buttons of my top,
pulling it out of my skirt so he could see my white lace bra. “You’ll have your
turn to be bossy, but the first time you do what I say.”

“All
right.” He pushed his plate away as if he expected to fuck me on the kitchen
table. Not a bad idea, but instead I said, “Follow me,” and marched off to his
bedroom which I’d already inspected for clean linen and hadn’t been able to
fault his mother’s housekeeping.

Inside
his room was a shrine to football of all codes, with player posters, banners
and supporter scarves. I barely gave it a glance as I kicked off my ballet
flats and quickly divested myself of shirt and skirt. He stood inside the
closed door, actually looking slightly nervous now that we were down to
business.

I
nodded at the bed. “Take your clothes off and lie on your back.”

He
shrugged, clearly struggling for nonchalance. “You don’t want to take my
clothes off for me?”

“I
know men,” I lied. “The first time will be fast. I don’t want to speed that up
by touching you too soon.”

“Okay.”
He seemed to accept that completely, but it wasn’t until the words were out of
my mouth that I realized they were probably true. Young guys who were
inexperienced with sex went off like firecrackers.

He
started shedding clothes while I waited for inspiration—I had no idea what to
do—then I noticed his laptop bag by his desk. It made me feel guilty.

“But
maybe if you’ve got homework—”

“I
did it all weeks ago.” He kicked off his joggers. “I’ve been planning this
holiday for as long as she has. Apart from lectures, I’m free to fuck.” He
wrenched off his boxers and a decent sized erection sprang out.

“Wait,”
I said, remembering he’d been out in the sweaty sun half the day. “Shower
first.”

“What?”

He
looked like he was going to arc up, so I said, “If it’s not clean, I’m not
sucking it.”

“Oh.
Okay.” He blinked a few times, but his eyes were sparkling as he turned for the
door.

“
Very
clean,” I said, remembering my experiences of early twenties boys, back in the
day. Adult men seemed to realize that girls liked hygiene.

“Sure.
I got it.”

I
watched him wrench open the door, jiggling a very nice ass before he strode out
and jogged down the hallway.

Jogged.

So
he was keen. I could use that to my advantage. And I had to admit, my bossiness
was turning me on. I leant out the doorway. “And wash all that product out of
your hair. I want it slicked back and sexy.”

He
made no reply, so I amused myself by checking out the posters in his room,
realizing pretty quickly that each of the players he was hero-worshipping had a
similar look. They were all big and beefy with super-short brown hair and dark
eyes. If it had been a girl’s room, I’d imagine she was crushing on these guys,
and that this was her template for sexy. But Simon?

Hmmm.

It
certainly gave me something to think about.

A
good ten minutes later, he marched back into the room and I had to catch my
breath.

“Holy
crap,” I said softly. “That’s a good look on you.”

Exactly
as I’d demanded, his dark shoulder-length hair was slicked back, highlighting
fabulous cheekbones and somehow managing to make his lips look even sexier.

“Good?”
he said, and smiled tentatively, then glanced beside me to the wall of mirrors
covering the build-in wardrobes.

I
nodded emphatically. “If you walked into college looking like that you’d have
girls lining up. But,” I added quickly, “you have to wait until I’m gone.”

His
cocky smile returned. “Why should I?”

“Because
I can teach you about sex, baby boy,” I shot back. “It’s one thing to get a
girl into your bed, and quite another to make sure she comes back. Your mother
paid for my services. You may as well get her money’s worth.”

He
surprised me then by nodding, before pointing at the bed. “So now? Lie on my
back?”

“If
you please.” I turned on my inner-courtesan, and stalked over to the side of
the bed, liking the way his erection had come back and jiggled about as he
settled himself.

“My
arms here?” he said, lifting and dropping them at his sides.

A
light went on in my brain.

“Do
you own ties?” I turned to his wardrobe.

“A
couple.” He frowned. “On the left.”

I
strode over and retrieved them. There were six. I came back to the bed, grabbed
one of his wrists and proceeded to tie it to the solid timber post at the top
corner of the bed.

“Whoa!
What the hell?”

I
smiled down into his eyes. “Nasty shit,” I said softly. “That’s what you’re
Jonesing for, isn’t it, Simon?”

“Maybe.”
He swallowed loudly, but I went right on with my bondage fantasy, tying that
wrist up and then walking around the bed so I could secure his other wrist to
the post on the other side.

“Delicious,”
I said when I was finished. Then I climbed onto the bed and straddled him,
letting his erection press against my panties. “Where are the condoms?”

“Everywhere,”
he said, gazing up into my eyes with what looked like wonder. “Closest are in
the bedside table.”

I
reached across and opened the drawer, managing to grind myself against him in
the process. There were at least a hundred, which made me smile. I grabbed a
handful and dropped them onto the bed beside us. “You were well prepared.”

“Like
I said, I’ve been planning this for a while.” His voice was softer, huskier,
and I kidded myself it was more submissive. “But I never dreamt of this shit.
This shit’s weird. And hot.”

 “I
like to be unpredictable.”

He
nodded. “So fuck me.” I heard bravado in his tone. For some reason I could
sense vulnerability in Simon and I suddenly felt protective, wanting him to
really enjoy this, to feel like
the man
. I wasn’t in this career out of
choice, but maybe I could try to do some good along the way.