Husband Sit (Husband #1) by Louise Cusack Read Free Book Online Page B

ballistic, but it’s a girl. I can cope with that. I have coped
with that.”
    “But
now you can’t?”
    His
gorgeous eyes looked so tormented I wanted to say Fuck her, she doesn’t deserve
you. No wait. Even better, fuck me!
    Luckily,
he was oblivious to my mental chatter. “I don’t understand this,” he said and
waved a hand back and forth between us. “What is she trying to achieve?”
    I
felt so sorry for the guy I told him the truth. “She wants you to feel guilty
too.”
    His
eyes widened. “She feels guilty?”
    Duh. “Yes.”
    “But
. . . I’m okay with it.”
    “Have
you told her that?”
    “Of
course not!” As if it was the stupidest thing anyone could suggest. “We haven’t
talked about it at all. She just . . . does it and I know.”
    I
looked up at the ceiling and thought—not for the first time in my life—that men
were really, really stupid. “She doesn’t know that you know.”
    “No!”
    “Yes.”
    “Shit.”
He looked away and I could tell he was tracking through their history, putting
pieces together. Then he looked back into my eyes and said, “But how could I
not? She said—” He stopped himself then, and over the next ten seconds his face
went bright red.
    Interesting . I raised an eyebrow. “She
said…?”
    He
swallowed and I wondered if I should just let it drop. But some belligerent
part of me wanted to know. They’d put me into the middle of this, damn it. I
deserved to know. “She gave it away?”
    He
shook his head but I wasn’t being put off.
    “Spill,
buddy,” I demanded, “Or I’ll pester you until you do.”
    He
gazed at me for another couple of seconds before he sighed. “Why am I worried
about embarrassing myself? My wife purchased you for me as if I was some loser
who couldn’t get a fuck in a brothel. It doesn’t get more embarrassing than
that.”
    I
smiled. “Sure it does. After what I did last night, I win any embarrassment
contest already. You’re safe.”
    I
could see he was trying to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I waited him
out and at last he said, “She told me she didn’t want me to . . .” he glanced
away, as if searching for the right words. “. . . perform cunnilingus on her,
and I knew it was because she was getting better elsewhere.”
    If
his formal terminology hadn’t alerted me to his shame about this, the high
color on his cheekbones would have. But I was so surprised that that was
the lay of the land, I couldn’t think of anything to say except, “Wow,” and,
“That sucks.”
    Shit.
    I
slapped a hand over my mouth.
    But
the edges of his lips were twitching. “Is that what you’re supposed to do?” he
said deadpan. “No wonder I got it wrong.”
    I
really liked this guy.
    “It’s
not like a blow job,” I said, and started puffing as if I was in a Lamaze
childbirth class. “You gotta work on your technique.”
    Something
shifted in his eyes then, and I suddenly realized what I’d suggested. He
swallowed again, but he got the words out. “Was that an offer to let me
practice?”
     Inside
my head, the little voice of greed said, heads-up Jilly, here’s your five
grand bonus but I ignored it and smiled what I hoped was a mysterious
smile. “We’ll see,” I said, and he nodded, then he picked up the spoon and went
back to stirring the soup.
    I
moved in beside him, liking the fact that he was a head taller than me. On the
pretence of inspecting the soup, I watched his large hands with their long
blunt fingers and clean fingernails, and starting thinking about how those
hands would feel on my body.
    I
made a soft mmm sound in my throat, because I was still half-pissed and
not monitoring my behavior. At all, really.
    “What
are you doing?” he said.
    “Thinking
about you fucking me.” I wasn’t embarrassed to say that, because I felt like we
were in a different place now after that conversation. A barrier was down. I
was moving into new territory. Well that was my justification. “Have you
thought