"Jack, listen to me." She ran the fingertips of one hand over his lips and caught his eyes with hers. "Rough or gentle. I love what just happened between us. And the fact that I make you so excited that you can't control yourself makes me incredibly hot. Couldn't you tell?"
"Well, you did practically suffocate me with your thighs at one point, but I can't think of a better way to go."
Blushing, she covered her face with one hand. "Well, it's been awhile for me too. But I'll try not to put you in a headlock next time."
"Next time? Meaning this wasn't just some isolated event brought on by months of prolonged frustration?"
"Well, partly that. But like we said before. I think there's something here. Something good. More than sex. What do you think?"
He paused and looked down at where they were still joined. Reluctantly, he gently disentangled himself and reached down to pull his pants up around his hips. It just didn't feel right to talk about this while still cradled in her moist heat. But he stilled her hands as she moved to gather her dress around her, stopping her from covering up those delicious curves. He could use her beauty as a distraction and hopefully wouldn't get too emotional.
He cleared his throat and brushed her hair off her face with one large warm hand so he could read her expression. "Well, when we met, I didn't really think I was capable of more than the sex part. Losing Deborah and the baby did something to me -"
"Baby? What baby?"
"My son. The one who died in the car accident."
"What car accident?"
Jack stared at her in shock. How could she not know about this? It had been all over the news. "The one two years ago that killed Deborah. She was eight months pregnant. And I was driving."
"What?" Lacey nearly shouted.
"Didn't Serena tell you about this?"
"No, of course not. Do you think I would have been lusting after you if I'd known you were just widowed?" She moved to grab for her dress again, but he kept an iron grip on her hands. She grunted in exasperation, suddenly feeling naked in a very bad way.
Jack knew he should let her get dressed. But as long as she was nude she wouldn't be able to leave and walk out on him. He just couldn't face that kind of rejection. Not again. And especially not after finally making love to her after all this time. But he felt her slipping away from him and it made him feel desperate and angry so he lashed out. "Oh. I get it. Too much baggage. I'm sorry if my grief isn't very attractive. I had no idea it was such a mood killer."
"Jack, don't be ridiculous. That's not what I meant. You took me by surprise here. What I meant was that I shouldn't be chasing after you when you needed time to grieve. It's disrespectful."
"Disrespectful? To who?"
"Well, your wife. You're probably still mourning her, and I'm all over you. I'm so embarrassed. How could I not know any of this?"
"Believe me. My wife would be relieved to know I'm moving on. She certainly did. Long before the accident." He said, bitterly.
"What do you mean, Jack? She was having an affair? The baby, it was yours?"
"Yes, it was mine. Considering she'd moved on with a woman from her Pilates class, I'm reasonably sure that it was. Unfortunately for her, we still had sex occasionally. At least twice or three times a year, if I was lucky." He let go of her and ran both hands through his already messed up hair. It stood up on end and he edged away from her, expecting her to bolt.
Instead she reached out and palmed his cheek with one hand. The gesture was incredibly sweet, and he closed his eyes in reaction.
"Oh my God. Poor Jack. I'm so sorry."
Hearing the awful pity in her voice he pulled away from her hand and leaned casually against the counter, doing up his belt while looking away from her. "Sorry my wife was gay, or sorry that you just had sex with a guy with a pretty messed up past?"
Lacey pulled her dress around her shoulders, and used it to cover up her breasts as much as she could. "Sorry that you've lost so much. Sorry that you've had so much pain to deal with. I swear, I didn't know anything about this. All Serena said was that your wife was out of the picture."
"Wow. That's one way of putting it. Nice, Serena."
"She probably thought it was something you should tell me, Jack." Lacey said reproachfully.
"And when was I going to do that exactly? When we were making out in the truck? Or maybe when we were discussing eco-friendly toilets? When is the right time to tell someone you're interested in that you killed your wife? And worse yet, you're not really that sorry that she's gone." He looked at her defiantly. If they were going to talk about this then she should know everything.
"Jack. You don't mean that." Lacey shook her head in complete denial. In no way willing to believe Jack was capable of hurting anyone.
"I kind of do actually. Deborah was an unhappy woman. She never loved me and she certainly never wanted me."
"That can't be true. How did you guys get together then?"
"We were sort of friends, at first. I thought she was different. Kind of aloof and unattainable. I was an idiot. I thought I could win her over eventually. But I never did. Even after we were married, she was distant. Every single day I disappointed her in some way. And every single night she rejected me. Not just in bed. Eventually, she made it very clear that she found everything about me distasteful. My job, my clothes, my sense of humor, my family. Nothing. I mean, nothing met with her approval. So, when she said she was leaving, I was actually relieved. There was going to an end to it. I wasn't going to have to feel unworthy forever. But when she said she was going to open a pilates studio with her girlfriend in San Francisco, and she was taking the baby with her. We argued. She said she didn't want to raise a child around a brute like me. It was raining, hard. And I lost control of the truck. Stupidest thing ever. I've driven that road a million times. And never had a problem. I just wasn't paying attention. That's all it took. Three seconds of distraction and my son was gone."
Talking about this was a mistake. It brought it all back. The squeal of tires, Deborah's scream as the car crunched against the tree. The flying glass and sharp pain as the seat-bealt drove into his hips and chest. And then the awful silence in the truck. Silence and the scent of blood and gasoline.
Jack moved as far away from Lacey as possible and looked out her kitchen window at the neat, yet tiny backyard his buddy, Mark, had landscaped. He wondered if she could see his hands shaking. He put them in his pockets, hoping she wouldn't notice and feel sorry for him and his lack of control over his body.
"Oh Jack. That's just awful."
"Yeah, well it doesn't help that the last thing I said to her was, 'Better a brute like me than a bitch like you.'"
"I don't know what to say. I'm so, so sorry."
"Don't be. I'm the one that should apologize. This must be the worst pillow talk ever."
"Well, we don't exactly have pillows here. And I suppose it was long overdue to come out. But are you sure you're ready to be with someone? Even on a casual basis. It sounds like you still have a lot to deal with where Deborah is concerned."
"I don't know. I thought I was ready. But I doubt I'm ever going to be completely over it. How do you feel about being with a guy who doesn't really know how to talk about anything serious unless it's being forced out of him?"
"I don't really know. This is a lot of information to process. Would it be awful if I asked for a little time?"
"Don't you think we've wasted enough time, as it is?"
"Jack, I'm not rejecting you. You're everything any woman could possibly want, despite how your wife made you feel. I do want to try. I really do. Right now I feel so bad for you that I'm almost willing to be the distraction you need. To make you feel better. But I want more than that from you. And I think I deserve more. Just give me a few days to absorb all of this, okay?"