The Girlfriend - Chapter #2 - Free To Read

Jon

Lydia was a wreck. She was lonely, isolated, depressed, and she missed New York. She never said anything, she was quiet about it all the time and avoided saying anything that she thought we didn’t want to hear. Patrick thought she was just fine, I didn’t know if he was delusional or willfully ignorant.

Tonight wasn’t great, I should’ve gotten rid of the bottles before she could see them. Hell, I should have gotten rid of them before he could drink them. I kept that to myself while I curled up next to her in bed while waiting for Patrick. Lydia was asleep long before he got home several hours later. I heard the door close and immediately slipped from the bed being careful not to jostle her in the process.

I made my way down the hall quietly, I could see him searching the fridge expectantly as I leaned against the doorjamb. “I cleaned the fridge out while you two were fooling around.”

Patrick jumped and hit his head on the fridge door. “I was getting a water—”

“No, you weren’t,” I snapped, straightening but and pinning him to the spot. “She’s noticed and this is where it stops.”

Patrick snorted and dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs. “You’re being dramatic,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have a problem, you know.”

“I didn’t say you did. But if you think there’s nothing wrong, then you won’t have a problem with the house going dry.”

He huffed and brushed past me as he got up. “Whatever. Which room is she in?”

“Hers.”

I watched him go and waited a few minutes after he closed the door before heading down the hall to my own room. It would’ve been nice to sleep with them, but I had be up and onto the mainland by nine and I didn’t want to wake them. Or worse, be lured into staying in bed longer. Christine would have my balls if I was late.

Both Lydia and Patrick were still asleep when I slipped out, with good luck they would stay that way until I was back. The ride back to the main land was quick and Christine was waiting for me at the docks. She glared at me from the shore, her arms crossed over her chest and tapping her foot dramatically. I would never tell Lydia, but I had seen the two of them do the exact pose and it was actually pretty funny.

“You’re late,” she complained as I stepped off the speed boat. “I’ve been waiting here for twenty-five minutes.”

“Imagine that, I’ve been on the boat for twenty-five minutes. What a coincidence,” I said dryly.

She rolled her eyes and I had to fight the urge to kiss her. Twenty-six years of being married, albeit unconventionally, didn’t just disappear overnight. No matter how much I loved Lydia now it didn’t change my history with Christine.

“I have a private room reserved for us, let’s go before we’re so late that they cancel my reservation.”

I fell into step beside her and slipped my hands into the pockets of my loose pants. It felt nice not to wear a suit during the day, I didn’t pack a single one and I’d spent most my sabbatical in sweats or shorts. This was the first time I’d worn a shirt since we here, and as it was I’d only done it so she couldn’t complain.

The walk to the small restaurant was mercifully short, and the dining room that she’d reserved wasn’t as intimate as I feared but she’d rented out the entire place so I didn’t know which was worse – a small intimate room or the entire dining room for just the two of us.

“A bit dramatic isn’t this?” I asked as I pulled out a chair. I caught her pursed lips and smirked down at my plate. No, Chrissy, I’m not pulling out your chair.

“A bit rude to take your seat before me, isn’t it?” she retorted.

I shot her a smile over my menu and skimmed it half-heartedly. I wasn’t going to want to eat when we got to the meat of this rendezvous. “Have you talked with your father?” I asked lightly, trying not to portray how badly my inside were shaking.

“I did,” she said, sounding bored. “You’re being voted out of the company; Papa also wants your assurance that you’ll change your name once the divorce goes through.”

My hands felt clammy and I thanked the waiter weakly when he brought my water. I downed it in one go, my throat suddenly parched as it started to sink in that this was it – I was getting divorced. “Does he?” I couldn’t look at her, I wanted to drop dead in my spot.

“Oh, come on Jon, you couldn’t expect him to let you keep it.” She smiled sweetly and cocked her head in a way that felt like a knife carving into my gut. “You never wanted to be a Bower in the first place, and now you don’t have to be.”

“Have you thought more about my offer?” I asked after a quiet minute. “I think it’s fair, the property is all worth well over half a billion—”

“I don’t want the property,” she interrupted. “I want what’s rightfully mine.”

“Chrissy, please—”

“I’m helping you, Jon. When you come to your senses and realize that you’re fooling around with a child, then you can come see me and I’ll give you half.” Christine paused long enough for our brunch to be served. “She’s taken enough from you and Mari already. She isn’t taking what’s left of our baby’s future.”

“She didn’t take anything,” I snapped. “I made a bad judgement call, that isn’t Lydia’s fault, and she’s been hurt by this too.”

“Oh, I’m sure she has,” Christine said in a mocking voice. “Like how you added her to our black card? I’m sure that destroyed her. Or maybe staying at your luxury apartment, and now your house on the beach. Poor girl.”

“Jealousy is an ugly colour on you.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You sound it.”

“I’ve got Peter, there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

I snickered and cut into my eggs. “And how is Peter? I hear chastity is going well.”

“Oh, shut up,” she huffed. “He wanted to explore submission, so I helped him out. At least he’s willing to try new things.”

“It’s a bit hard to take charge when the person under you complains that you’re doing it wrong.” My face was hot as I said it, and I knew she’d notice it any second now.

“I’m sure she doesn’t complain, probably has nothing to compare you to with how young she is…”

I dropped my utensils and sat back in the chair, focusing my cold glare on the still half-full plate. “Yes, Christine, I get it. Lydia is younger than me and that’s a horrible crime from which I’ll never be forgiven.”

“It’s cliched,” Christine whined, leaning forward and grabbing my hands. “Jonny, can’t you see that? I know moving in with Peter upset you, but this is stupid—”

“Are we done?” I interjected. “I’ll talk to your father when we’re back in New York and work on getting the paperwork for a name change.”

The silence between us weighed like an anvil on my chest. I refused to look at her, just focused on the table and her hands clasped around mine. That’s when I saw it – a diamond so large it looked like it could sink her if she decided to go for a swim.

“You’re engaged?” I asked, half choking on the words.

“Just before I left L.A. Peter proposed,” she answered. She looked so happy when she smiled up at me, her eyes sparkling with an excitement I hadn’t seen in years. “I, well, there’s no easy way to say it but I have our rings for you…”

And then there was a black box placed in front of me. I don’t remember seeing her put it there, I don’t even remember seeing her reach for it, but I knew if I opened it I’d find our engagement rings. I couldn’t hear a single thing after that, not a single fucking word. I pocketed the box and left. I felt her grab my arm, I could hear her saying something but the words didn’t connect in my head.

I nearly ran back to the boat with shaking fists, it wasn’t until we were far out onto the water that I collapsed back into my seat took several deep heaving breaths of the fresh, salty air. Christine was engaged. She was getting married and moving on. We’d been seperated for years, why did this hurt so much? I knew Lydia was waiting for me with open arms, hell I Patrick was doing the same, but why did I care so much that Christine wasn’t?

Does Maritza know? Oh god, if Chris had already told her… I didn’t know what I would do. With clammy, trembling fingers I reached for the box in my pocket. When I opened it I felt my eyes water; the emerald flanked with two small diamonds was the first thing I purchased after starting at her father’s law firm – then called Bower and Son’s LLC. It was several years after that when her father moved me up the line of succession and helped secure the merger for me and the company so it would later become Bower & Rosing’s. It was our history wrapped up in a tiny box and she had given it back without a care in the world.

Without the ring, Maritza wouldn’t exist, I wouldn’t have had the opportunities that I did, I wouldn’t even be where I was now. With Lydia. With Patrick. In some fucked up relationship that destroyed my entire career with just one photo. I glanced up at the choppy waves just as we went over another harsh one, I was thrown to the side but my focus stayed on the ring. Maybe it was a gift, one that got me to where I was and one that freed me to be where I am now.

I squeezed it tight in my first so hard I could feel blood dampening my palm. Without a second thought I threw it hard over the side of the boat and watched the box get swallowed up into the dark waters.

I threw the door open and it slammed hard against the wall. Lydia was standing at the kitchen island and jumped at the sound of the door. My eyes roamed over her wantonly; she was wearing a bikini that had to be illegal in decent places, I could practically see her nipples through the tiny scraps of white on her tits, but that was nothing compared to the way the bottoms hugged her pussy.

“Jon?” she asked, watching me with wide eyes.

I strode towards her determinedly. I hadn’t been with her since we got to the Bahamas, not for lack of want, but because it felt wrong when I was having these meetings with Christine to be going home to Lydia’s arms. I realized now how stupid that was. Christine wasn’t holding back for me, and I didn’t need to hold back for her. It wasn’t fair to Lydia. It wasn’t fair to me either.

“I’m sorry,” I told her as I cupped her face and kissed her hard. Her hands pressed to my chest and I felt her nails dig in to the muscle when she moaned and yielded to my kiss. “For ignoring you,” I continued. “For not being here when you needed it, for being an asshole since we got here.” I was frantic, I couldn’t get enough of her and she tasted like strawberries – how was I supposed to resist that?

“Jon,” she mumbled against my mouth. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but if you don’t give me a second to breathe and swallow you’re going to get a mouthful of half-chewed strawberry.”

“I like when you swallow,” I countered, kissing my way down her jaw and throat.

She laughed and covered her mouth to finish chewing. “You perv.” She continued to giggle as I tickled her with my stubble and nipped at her ear lobe. Why had I been jerking off for weeks when she was right here? I didn’t get to voice my question out loud before she spoke again, “What’s gotten into you two?”

“A sudden realization that we’re acting like idiots,” I told her honestly. “I thought it would be easier, I thought this would be smarter, but I missed you so much, dove. Please don’t be mad at me for being a jackass.”

She moaned and it was music to my ears. I had heard her the night before with Patrick in the ocean, heard her scream his name and beg him to fuck her harder. I don’t think I’d ever jerked off to just the sounds of other people fucking before that, but I certainly had last night. And now I had her here alone, with a perfectly waist height counter. I didn’t waste any time in lifting her up and pushed her back so she was lying down on it.

“In the kitchen?” she asked breathlessly. “That’s not very sanitary…”

I rolled my eyes and jerked the thin ties holding her suit together open. With her tits exposed I latched on instantly, kissing, licking, biting, and teasing her nipples until they were straining peaks against my tongue. If I was jealous of anyone it was Patrick, he had gotten to fuck her for the first time in weeks and he had her all to himself too.

“Oh, Daddy, I missed you too,” she whispered, her hand finding my hair and gripping it hard. “Feel how wet I am.” She seized the hand that had been working on her other nipple and guided it down to her pussy.

I was so hard I thought I was going to come in my pants when I felt the slick heat between her legs. Her cunt was practically dripping for me and I’d barely touched her. At least I knew both of us were more than eager to pick up where we had left off in New York. Lydia arched against the marble countertop, writhing and moaning as I strummed her clit with a surprising amount of patience.

“I love how you taste, baby girl,” I praised while I kissed my way up her torso, starting at small dip of her navel. “Every inch of you, but especially your sweet cunt.”

“Prove it,” she said while pulling my hair back.

I laughed but moved back down, kissing the soft, downy patch of hair that had newly grown above her slit. Her heady scent made my head spin with desire. With a jerk of her legs over my shoulders I parted her with my tongue and circled her clit. Lydia gasped and kept tugging at my hair every time she moaned, when I thrust two fingers into her waiting entrance and she cried out I almost lost control and started fucking her then. I couldn’t, I wanted her to come on the face, my fingers, my tongue, I wanted her to have to beg me to fuck her.

With my fingers crooked I found her g-spot almost immediately, Lydia squealed and tightened around my digits. Instantly I trapped her clit gently between my teeth and flicked my tongue faster while I brought her closer to the edge. Her thighs trembled and her wetness covered my mouth, it spurred me on and I sucked hard on the sensitive nub. She bucked against my mouth and cried out loudly as she came, I could feel the muscles in her legs tense and flex while she squirmed around.

My cock strained at the confines of my suddenly too tight pants, I couldn’t move fast enough to free my length – certainly not fast enough for her and the way she eagerly sat up and grabbed at the waist band. “Careful with those nails,” I half teased half cautioned. “I don’t want to lose my favourite body part.”

Her gaze snapped up to mine just as she got the zipper down and grinned widely. “Don’t be dramatic,” she replied. “I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

I smirked and leaned in to kiss her, it occurred to me as she looped her arms around my neck how odd it must look to see us at a distance – Lydia naked on the counter, her legs now around my waist, my hard cock trapped between us, all while locked in an open mouth kiss. Pulling back just enough that I could see her stunning gray eyes, I stroked her cheek.

“I should bend you over the counter for old time’s sake, Miss Morrison.” I felt her cheeks heat under my touch and watched as her eyes widened a fraction. I liked knowing I could still get that reaction out of her. “I know you like getting to play the part of the dirty slut,” I continued, this time moving so my lips brushed her ear while I whispered. “How much of it is really an act?”

She inhaled sharply and stumbled over her words, “I-it’s not an act, Daddy, I really am your slut.”

I hummed thoughtfully and jerked her hips forward, she yelped at my sudden change of position but it quickly dissolved into an eager moan when my cock probed her sex. With her hair spilling over the counter and her fingers clutching frantically at the marble, she looked like a wanton whore – and she was mine for the taking.

I couldn’t hold back anymore, with one brutal thrust I filled her needy pussy and moaned at the feeling of hot, wet silk wrapped tightly around my cock. The mindless desire that consumed me almost six months ago in my office threatened do to the same again as I fucked her hard and without restraint. Her cries of pleasure and pleading for me to go faster, harder, deeper became background noise as I tried to milk every ounce of pleasure I could from her.

Eight weeks was too long, way too long to go without this, without her. Especially once I felt her tighten around my length and scream without restraint, her wetness bathed us both – my cock, her thighs, my groin. Vaguely I could hear footsteps, but I didn’t bother turning to see, I didn’t think Patrick would ignore that sound from her. I knew I wouldn’t have.

“Oh, fuck me,” I groaned speeding up my thrusts when I felt myself getting closer and her cunt tighten around me again. My eyes flicked between watching her pretty pussy and the sight of her tits bouncing, it wasn’t helping me last any longer.

Suddenly Patrick’s hand came into my vision and my head jerked up; he was playing with her tits as he stood in front of her now dangling head. Her fingers worked fast to get his zipper undone and free his cock, almost instantly she had it in her mouth and Patrick moved slightly to cradle her head and support her neck while he fucked her throat.

We locked eyes for a fraction of a second and he smirked, I grinned back at him and tried to keep my momentum up without showing how close I was. I could feel it coiling low in my abdomen with an intensity that almost hurt. I couldn’t hold out any longer, not when I could see the slight bump in her throat every time she took his cock as deep as she could, not when her pussy was gripping me like a vice and practically forcing me to fill her with my come.

I swore and thrust into her completely, I heard her throaty moan around his cock as she was pushed forward slightly and watched with hooded eyes as she worked to swallow his cock while I came deep inside her. I shuddered and pulled out after a few seconds, continuing to watch intently as Patrick fucked her mouth and my come began to drip out of her used cunt.

Patrick’s eyes were wild as he gazed down at her, but when he glanced up at me I could see the dare in them. We hadn’t told Lydia a word about what happened at Plaisir, I knew he wanted to but I wasn’t comfortable with it yet. But right now that all seemed silly.

I didn’t say anything as I strode around the counter to him, neither did he – he just watched expectantly as I grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth to mine. She was ours, a perfect slice of heaven that we had to share, but this was ours and ours alone. I could taste the salt from the ocean on his tongue, and feel the stubble growing in from his shave the night before, all of it lent to the pleasure of his tongue massaging mine.

I pulled away sooner than I would’ve liked but I couldn’t stand there and tempt fate; we’d talk to Lydia when I was good and well ready and that was not today. But I also couldn’t participate in the fun with my now soft cock. I glanced at her well-used pussy, glistening with my come and her wetness. Well, I could participate, but going down on her once had already fucked my knees up for the day, I wasn’t doing that again. Not in the kitchen at least.