Devil In The Waters, End of Book 4 still... (Patreon)

Okay, the next book should be out soon. It's called Demons, and is Book 3. I went and made it a little longer, and decided that Book 4 will be the whole Monday from dawn to dusk—which means these Kimmy getting home from the Royal York chapters will be book 4. Bear with me, ha ha—like I said, these early chapter looks are always subject to change!

***

It sounded like she might be crying. It wounded him to think of her hurting—but she fucking deserved it, so as much as he wanted to console her, he had to be strong.

She whispered, “I’m sorry I’m so late. Don’t be mad at me, Josh . . .” Her soft voice was pinched with sadness.

“I’m sleeping,” he said, not wanting to deal with this.

“Josh . . .?” Now he could hear quick little blurts of intake air as she tried not to burst out crying.

He rolled his eyes and let out an aggravated sound. Half-turned, looking up at the ceiling, he said over his shoulder, “It’s eleven o’clock, Kimmy. You didn’t even send me a message till after nine.”

“I know it’s late, I know . . . I said I’m sorry . . .”

Now he grumbled, shifted to look over at her. She was crying into one hand folded over her eyes. “Don’t . . . Come on, don’t cry . . .”

“I am sorry,” she said thickly.

“Why were you there so long? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” she blubbered in a wet whisper.

“Then why are you crying?”

“You said not to touch you . . .”

“I’m fucking mad, Kimmy.” He swished around, faced her now, his beautiful wife, his amazing woman, curled in bed next to him, crying, hand over her eyes. “Don’t cry,” he said, and held her wrist.

“How could you say that to me?” she whined, then sobbed.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” he shushed, folded an arm around her. “I’m just so mad right now,” he whispered. She felt fever hot in his arms. He hugged her.

“Oh my God, don’t ever say that . . .”

“I’m mad, Kimmy,” he stressed. “Don’t you get that?”

She sniffled, defended herself. “It was work, Josh. It was an important meeting.” Her breath was hot and wet against his neck.

“Four hours in a bar?”

“Not just in the bar,” she murmured.

Now he exhaled long and low. This was it. Was he ready for a lie? Was he ready to be confronted by an out-and-out lie? It would be proof she was cheating on him. “Look at me,” he said, moving back and easing her hand from her face. Her beautiful dark eyes met his, full of hurt and shining wet, the brown lit luminous by moonlight. He hoped a million times over she wouldn’t lie to him. “Where else did you go?” Her phone was at the Royal York the whole time.

“Up in their suite,” she said without looking away.

“Up in their suite? What—why? Whose suite?”

“The guys we met. We had two drinks at the bar, then . . . we went up to their suite for the meeting.”

“Why?” A delayed reaction he had to ignore as he still stared in her eyes: a sudden pounding of his heart, a thudding in his ear drums. Relief. If she had said they went anywhere else other than the Royal York, she’d be a liar. Her phone had never left the building.

“All their plans and paperwork were too big for the bar. They had all their stuff in their suite. We went up, had some drinks there and they showed us what they wanted. I sat back and listened, it was mostly logistics at this point, but Devlin wanted me there.” Her chin dimpled, and she tucked it down as she began to cry again. She hugged herself to him, saying, “Believe me: I’d prefer to be at home here with you.”

He hugged her, rubbed a circle on her narrow back. “Were they Chinese?”

“Chinese from Italy,” she said. “Garments they manufacture there, ship here.”

“Four hours to figure out how to ship some dresses from Italy to Canada?”

She looked right in his eyes. “Why don’t you believe me? . . . What the hell do you think happened, Josh?”

“You couldn’t text me from the room? You let me sit here wondering where you were?”

“You knew where I was. I told you . . .” She touched a palm to his cheek. He grunted, pulled away. But not far. “Josh . . .”

“Look, I don’t . . .” he started, “It’s fine, just leave me alone and let me be mad.”

She shook her head no, pretty lips pursed. “You’re not allowed to be mad. Don’t.”

“Don’t tell me . . . I can be mad. I can’t help being mad,” he said, feeling the emotions flowing now. “I hate—fucking hate—Devlin Stone, and you work for him. You work for him, now you’re out at night with him.” He stared back, unflinching.

“Be calm, Josh, let’s talk. Don’t shout.”

“I’m not shouting.”

She said, “I work with Devlin so we can make our future. You know that’s the case. You said it before I ever said it. I wasn’t considering the job because it was with Devlin Stone. You were the one who said I could consider it. Now it sounds like that was a lie. You wanted me to consider it, then come back to you and say I wouldn’t take it. But that’s not fair. You should have told me what you really wanted. When I considered it, I considered it for the both of us. You said to think about it, so I assumed you could be a big man about it.”

“I am a big man about it,” he growled.

“I was impressed that you could be so big about it. Honestly. I felt so good you knew I could do this job and not . . .” She rolled her eyes around, searching for the words. “Not be a part of Devlin’s world.”

“I feel like you’re part of his world.” He sounded sulky. How could he be so mad—and have a right to be mad—and yet feel his grip on the argument slipping?

“I’m not, Josh. I don’t even want to be. I just want to do my work and get paid.”

“I am big about this, you know.”

“Not the last couple days, baby,” she said, touching his face tenderly again.

He held her wrist. “It’s you the last couple of days, Kimmy, you making me feel uncomfortable.”

She frowned. “Uncomfortable how? Because I responded to some work texts on a Saturday afternoon for half an hour, because I went out for a work meeting after five on a Monday night? It’s me how, Josh? It’s me because I’m doing the work I was hired to do?”

“Just let me be mad, okay? Maybe you’re right but let me go to sleep and deal with it in my own way.”

“You don’t get to go to sleep,” she said, tears coming to her eyes again. “You’re not being fair. I don’t want you to be mad at me. I love you so much and I just want you to hold me right now.” her face screwed up as she tried not to sob.

He made a pained face seeing her upset, and she sniffed and wiped the wet from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kimmy.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “We said I should do this, I quit my other job and you . . .  you make it so hard for me.”

“Okay-okay, Kimmy, I’m sorry, okay? . . .”

***

What she wanted more than anything was for her husband to hold her. She was ashamed of her secret and no one in her life could support her like Josh could. Only, it was from Josh the secret was withheld. For whatever reason, that truth made her feel more alone than she could ever remember feeling. Maybe when her Mom died. That was a scary and lonely time. But her sister’d been there. Not her father so much, but at least her and her sister were there for Pop, and that was support in its own way—giving as nourishing as receiving.

Now she snaked against Josh, desperate to feel his arms going around her—needing his arms around her. She pressed her face into the hollow of his neck, feeling his chin score over the crown of her head.

“The whole time I was there all I could think was how you were going to be mad when I got home.”

It was like he could see how he’d put pressure on her. He rolled his head around, grumbling. “Come here,” he said, and put his arms around her. She fell into him, bewilderingly astounded to be accepted and held and loved. Even though she’d cheated on him, lied to his face, shamed him and their future family. She didn’t deserve his comfort but it felt so good right now. She cried real tears on his shoulder and he rubbed her back.

“I’m such an asshole,” he sighed.

“No, don’t say that. I don’t think that. I know it’s hard for you, I know. I’m trying to be good.” Her voice had thickened with sadness and she sniffled again, wiping her weeping eyes on Josh’s cotton shoulder.

With his arms around her at last she felt that support she craved. That love. But shame, too. So much shame.

Her arms snaked around him now, slipping under his and hooking behind his back. She pressed herself into his chest, her chin and cheek digging in until he said Ow. She kissed his chest, rubbed his back. She said, “I know I should have called. I should’ve texted. But I was trying to work. He hardly even needed me, but I had to be there. I had to listen to everything they said. I had to listen to the things that they would say to each other . . . In case it was in Chinese or something. I had to pay attention the whole time. Even when we weren’t talking about work—that’s how it is, you have to be careful what people are saying to each other even when they’re not using words. And the worst, Josh? . . . I know I shouldn’t have been texting when we were at lunch with Pop and Susan. I know it now. I know it because I didn’t text you when I was with those guys in the suite. They had my full attention, but it’s you who has to have my full attention. And my dad, too. I don’t want to be like that, Josh, I swear . . .”

“Aw, Kimmy . . .”

Now he hugged her tighter, and she hooked a leg over his hip and clung to him. “I’m so sorry. I just love you so much. I felt bad, I know I texted and said I was leaving at nine . . . But they just kept talking . . . And then on the way home . . . Remember when we went on a date into Toronto, and we went to that restaurant in Cabbagetown—Mookie’s?”

He nodded, his chin moving against the top of her head. He hugged her and stroked his hands on her back.

“I drove out there, just to look at the place. Isn’t that weird? Not long, just parked out front and tried to remember what else we did that night . . .”

“Hayao Miyazaki movie.”

“Was that what it was?”

“I wanted you to go with me.”

“That’s right,” she said, burrowing her face in and hugging him tighter. “I don’t really remember the movie . . .”

“Princess Mononoke.”

“Oh yeah . . . Anyway, I just remembered what it was like when we were dating and how I was sitting at that table doing everything I could to make sure you liked me.”

Josh chuckled. “You should know that I probably had it ten times worse than you did.”

She giggled, snorted then sniffled. “It was important for you to like me, Josh. I was so in love with you . . .”

Josh squeezed her. “God, Kimmy, I needed this. I need this so bad. We have to talk. I was going crazy tonight . . .”

“I’m sorry. I really messed up and I know it. Okay?”

“I’ve never felt like I was losing you more than this week.”

She stiffened, shocked. “Losing me,” she said, incredulous. “Josh, what the hell does that mean?”

“I feel like you’re moving away from me.”

“Josh, I’m moving closer to you.”

“I know, I know . . . But I can’t help how I feel.”

“Josh, seriously, I’m working for Devlin Stone. Do you know how hard that is? And I’m doing it for us . . .”

“I know,” he said again. “I just need you to . . . I needed to hear you say it. I need to know you’re on my side and not his.”

“I’m not on his side at all, Josh. I’m on your side. It feels so good to be in your arms.”

“It feels so good to hold you.”

“I need this so bad,” she said and kissed his neck. Even in the worst of times she could rely on Josh. He was her rock.

Now they were squirming together, arms moving, hands stroking, her foot rubbing the back side of his calf. She kissed his neck, and he was rolling to get his weight over top of her.

Her heart pounded. She didn’t know if she could do this right now. What if it hurt going in and she cried out? What if it hurt so bad she couldn’t let Josh do it? Devlin was huge, and Josh was so much smaller—but what if it stung like when she’d peed?

But she couldn’t say no . . . 

“Oh Josh . . .” Her mind was racing, wanting there to be a way out of this.

Her hands went down his back, slipped under the waistband of his pajama pants and grabbed his butt cheeks, then her right hand swooping quickly around and diving in between his legs to find him hard as a rock. But he was slipping from her grip. His kisses traveling her chest now. He shoved his hands up the front of her sweatshirt. She wore nothing underneath. Her favorite dorm room flannel from University so soft she loved the way it touched her skin. He pushed it upward, and she scooted left and right to help him get it off. While she struggled to free it from one arm, he was sucking on her nipples, kissing her chest and her stomach.

“Oh no . . .” He kissed her navel, ran his tongue around it, suckled. She ran her hands through his hair, dragged her nails on his scalp. “Oh Josh, don’t . . .”

Her voice was a whisper. The act of protesting alarmed her. What if her saying not to do it made Josh realize the truth . . . Why would she not want him to do this . . .?

“I’m not clean, Josh . . .”

But Josh had his fingers in the fronts front of her pajama shorts, pulling them down, kissing lower where the skin was revealed, kissing each hip bone, and she began to tingle, began to feel good, but she couldn’t let him . . . could she . . .?

“Josh, don’t, I’ve been at work all day . . . I’m not clean, baby . . .”

And Josh wasn’t listening, sitting on his knees between her legs and pulling her shorts down. She flailed her legs, rotating at the hips, letting him pull them down. She pulled one leg out but left her knee folded over. He scooted his hand between her knees and opened her legs, lowered, kissed her navel again.

“Baby, Josh, it’s been such a long day . . . I should clean . . .”

But Josh’s eyes were glazed; he was robotic, and she knew he wanted to do this and was going to do it.

“Josh, baby, let’s have sex . . .”

But maybe that wasn’t a good idea either.

Now her heart pounded even faster as his kisses traveled lower, working just above her pubic hair. His chin rustled, she felt his skin graze across her sore sex. Felt the slight pang of injury from Devlin’s large size and thunderous pounding he’d delivered.

“Oh Josh, Josh . . .”

And now she was caressing Josh’s head. Closing her eyes, face scrunched up. Hoping upon hope he wouldn’t know what had happened. There was nothing to do. Couldn’t have sex and couldn’t deny her husband’s oral pleasure. She would submit . . . Submit and hope that whatever Josh discovered she could survive it . . . 

Then the underside point of his tongue ran through the scrape of her pubic hair and parted her furrowed petals.

“Oh God,” she blurted, feeling no pain at all, only pleasure. Loving the touch of her husband’s tongue against that part of her. He took her opening fully in his mouth and suckled, ran his tongue through her split, twirled it over her clitoris and got her legs shaking. She grabbed fistfuls of her own hair, her elbows pointed toward the ceiling as she writhed under her husband’s tongue.

Her stomach fluttered and her breath went airy. Josh sucked on her pussy hungrily, unambiguously. Slurping, growling, his hands grabbing her butt cheeks to push her sex into his driving tongue and sucking mouth.

But he didn’t know what he was tasting. Didn’t know what had happened between her legs tonight. She cried out as a wild ride of pulse-racing blotted her conscience. How awful she’d been. How loved she was. How hard she’d been fucked. How good and deep she’d been fucked . . . 

Josh was burying his tongue in the truth. Josh was tasting Devlin’s semen. Tasting the residue of how wet his wife got for a man she didn’t even like. What would Josh think if he knew Devlin made her pussy squirt? That his bully could make his wife come in a way like she’d never experienced?

“Oh Josh, your tongue feels so good, you feel so good, baby, oh Josh, I’m so dirty . . .”

He growled and fed off her.

“Josh, oh baby, what are you doing to me? Oh God, you’re going to make me come, oh baby, you’re sucking me so fucking good . . .”