“There wasn’t anything lame about your apology.” Placing the preserves in the crook of her elbow, she wound her free arm through his. “It was a straightforward apology, which I appreciated you saying.”
“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Licking dry lips, which he blamed on the high altitude and the fear of how she would answer his question.
“I was never mad at you.” She slipped her hand down to link their fingers together. “I was more hurt than anything else.”
“You’re not hurt anymore?” He experimentally squeezed her hand inside of his.
“No, I’m not hurt anymore.”
Ginny squeezed his hand back, the motion releasing the stitch in his side, allowing air to flow freely through his lungs. The reason why was just as scary as having trouble breathing.
Since she had exposed her feelings for him, somewhere along the way, he started to believe her. When she said she was going to back off and give him space, he felt as if a rug had been swept out from under him. Now Ginny’s forgiveness was righting his world again.
Reaper hated himself for accepting it when she would have done better telling him to leave. For her well-being, he was worse than the virus taking over the country. At least with the virus, she would have a chance at a normal life when it was over. Loving him, her chance of being happy plummeted to a probability of zero.
Ghosts weren’t granted happily ever afters.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Are you sure this is the right house?”
The dark house gave him the fucking willies.
Aaron watched Lena take out her cell phone, to double-check the numbers brightly lit on the exterior of the house under the porch light. “I’m sure. Look, there’s the bench with the red cushions that he said would be there.”
Looking through the windshield to where his wife was pointing increased the trepidation he was feeling.
“We should just go, Lena. This doesn’t feel right.”
“You promised me we could do this.”
Her scornful glower at him conveyed the view she had of him as a wimp. The many times she blamed herself for ever marrying him in the first place were too numerous to count. Each marked by his refusal to halt the risky sexual encounters she thrived on. He had never fulfilled her sexual needs, and she made sure he had been told that fact frequently. Blaming him for being a coward and leaving her to take the incentive to find the gratification she craved—which he was unable to fulfill.
“I told you I checked him out. Whitney and Derek already made another appointment with him.”
“You’re trusting them when we’ve only talked to them a couple of times?”
Every facets of his wife’s life was cut-throat. He had seen her fire someone just because an employee had come to work one minute late. She ruled their checkbook, making him payback if he spent five dollars over what she expected to spend, yet when it came to sex her standards were lower than those of a slut.
“What else was I supposed to do, Aaron? It’s not like you’ve made any effort to replace Slate’s assistance at finding us partners.”
“I wouldn’t describe them as partners.” He tentatively looked around, seeing there weren’t any other houses nearby. The last one they had passed was a couple of miles away. Jesus, he should just file for a divorce. He would, but he was too afraid of Lena’s maliciousness directed at him in a courtroom. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t be vengeful enough to spill the beans about their sexual diversions and place the blame on him.
“Come on. Are we going to do this or not?”
“Slate told us to hang tight until he contacted us again.”
“I didn’t marry Slate, and the last time we used him, the piece of crap he gave us wasn’t anything to brag about. Of course he’s not going to want us to find someone else—he won’t be pocketing the money we’re giving him.
“I’m going. You can stay here if you want,” she hissed through pinched lips. “I’ll tell you what you missed when I come back.”
“I’m coming.” He reluctantly got out of the car and walked up the steps with Lena to knock on the front door.
Anxiously waiting, he was about to tell her that he would wait for her in the car when the door opened, exposing a man wearing shorts.
Desire overrode his worry. Deep down, this was why he had stayed married to the horny bitch. The sensual man opening the door wider for them was fucking sex on a fucking stick, or he would be when he was finished with him. He thought about the whip he bought with a dual purpose in mind.
“I have everything set up for us downstairs.”
“Downstairs?” Lena was the one hesitating, stopping them from going down the carpeted stairs he led them to off the expensively furnished living room. The sixty-five-inch television hanging on the wall was the latest in technology.
“We can do it up here if you want.” He shrugged. “You paid extra for me videotaping us, and my camera is set up downstairs. The only reason I set up downstairs is the guest bedroom is larger than mine.
“Whitney and Derek said you might be skittish the first time. If you want, we can have a couple of drinks and reschedule for another time. I wasn’t too keen to doing this, anyway, with the virus going around. Of course, if we do reschedule, I don’t give refunds—”
“Never mind,” Lena said anxiously when no refund was mentioned.
The man took off, and they followed him down the steps, his lean, muscled back on display.
The basement was decorated in the same style as the living room with another television mounted down there with theater chairs placed in front. There was even a fucking popcorn machine set to the side.
“You want some popcorn? I just made it a couple of hours ago,” he asked inanely as he went to an open door on the side of the room. The room was set up just the way Lena had requested. “Take your coats off.” The man motioned to a small fridge. “Make us a drink. It’ll loosen us up.”
Lena went to the small fridge, taking out premixed cocktails in little bottles.
“I’ll take the Mai Tai.”
“Bob?” she asked, using the fictitious name they had decided on.
“Whatever you think I’ll like.” Laying his coat on a chair, Aaron started unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes on the thick bulge under the navy shorts the man was wearing.
Giving the man on the bed his Mai Tai, Lena opened her bottle to take a sip, waiting for Aaron to finish removing his clothes.
Carry the bottle of Punching Kangaroo to the bed, Aaron sat down. Taking a drink, he ran his hand down the man’s muscled thigh as Lena started to undress. Lustfully watching the muscles on the man’s throat work as he swallowed, Aaron felt his erection swell.
“Abby said your name is Bob.” Taking another drink, he edged his hand under the leg of the man’s shorts.
The man caught and placed on his knee. “Let’s wait for Abby, then I’ll start recording.”
“Almost there.”
Aaron turned at the sound of a thump on the carpet, seeing his wife had passed out. Jumping up, he grabbed his head at the wave of dizziness hitting him, sending him to his knees. Stupidly staring at the drink that was spilling onto the carpet, he looked up to see the man they had come here to fuck get off the bed to stare down at them with hatred pouring out of his eyes. “Fuck,” he gurgled out.