Stuck with You: A ONE WEEK Novella Read online

  “I’m serious. We haven’t had sex for fifty-one days now, and I want to keep it that way.”

  His eyes grow wide. “You’ve been counting?”

  Yes, I’ve been counting. I’m pathetic.

  “Okay, if you’ll excuse me now, I need to get my pajamas on,” I say, and turn on my heel — this conversation is over. Abby and Baxter follow me eagerly, their little paws clicking in unison against the antique pine floor.

  4

  Today’s rants:

  Hmmmm… I only have one today…

  Why is Jacob so damn annoying?

  I’ve been looking forward to reading my book but it’s impossible now with Jacob and I sharing this small space. He’s sitting in the arm chair across the room, reading the latest John Grisham novel, and he’s doing that whistling thing he does. He does it when he cooks, when he works with his hands, and when he reads, basically whenever he needs to concentrate.

  And to make things worse, Abby is cuddling up next to him.

  “Abby, get over here.” I pat a spot right next to me on the sofa. “C’mon, sweetie.”

  Her little ears perk up and her cute brown eyes study me for a second. She considers it for a beat, but ultimately she chooses to stay next to Jacob. He shoots me a sly smile, and damn if he doesn’t look sexy right now, in his white t-shirt and pajama clad legs.

  I shoot Abby the stink eye. “You little traitor. You’re not my favorite anymore.”

  Baxter cocks his head and eyes me curiously, seemingly offended.

  What can I say? She’s always had a crush on Jacob. Well, at least I still have Baxter by my side.

  “You want a fire?” Jacob asks. “I could start one.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s pretty warm in here. And besides, I’m tired and going to bed.”

  Baxter jumps off the sofa when I stand. “Goodnight, Jacob.”

  “You sure you don’t want to share a room?” Jacob teases. “It would be kinda rude to mess up two rooms, don’t you think?”

  “Well, I know that’s what Beatrice wants… to get us back together,” I say. “Never going to happen. It’s been almost two months since we last hooked up, and I don’t even miss you.”

  He smiles. “Really? I find that hard to believe. You’ve never been a good liar, Corrie. I could always read you like a book.”

  I glare at him. “I’m going to bed.”

  He shoots me a wink and it makes my traitorous heart flutter a little. “Suit yourself.”

  I brush my teeth, wash my face, slip into my cozy flannel pajamas, and try not to think about Jacob in the next room. I’m feeling a little restless and as I slip under the covers, I try to relax and let myself sink into the bed. My body is on high alert — it wants action. Yet my mind is telling me, You’ve been doing so well… you don’t need him. Sex is overrated.

  Following much tossing and turning, restless sighing, and R-rated visions of Jacob’s body on mine, I finally manage to fall into slumber.

  I spring up like a jack-in-the-box. I’ve always been a light sleeper. Jacob’s snoring used to always wake me up (that’s one thing I don’t miss). Baxter is yapping. I’m not sure where Abby is. The room is dark, save for the moonlight coming from the window and the red numbers on the digital clock: 3:32 AM.

  “Quiet, Baxter,” I call out.

  He shuts up instantly — he’s always been a good boy. He stares intently at the window.

  “Is there something out there, Baxter? What did you hear?”

  It’s dead quiet — I think we might both be going crazy. Yet, there was something. I felt it too. I’m not sure what it was exactly; a flutter, a swoosh. My heart is beating frantically. I close my eyes, and lie back down on my pillow. It must have just been a nightmare. I can’t even remember the last time I had a bad dream.

  I struggle to relax again but my eyes flutter open, on instinct. There’s definitely something. Just when I’m sure that I’ve gone certifiably insane, I see it. It’s a blur. Dark & fluttery. Is it a bird? A bird in my room? The window curtains ruffle as it heads back to its hiding spot behind the curtains, just next to my bed.

  I turn on the light, and approach the window very slowly and cautiously. I pull at the curtains, wanting to get a closer look. My heart leaps in my chest when I see that it’s not a bird at all — pointy ears pointing to the floor, furry belly, and tightly closed wings. Its beady dark eyes appear as terrified as mine.

  “Yikes!!!” I jump off the bed and run off screaming, falling over my luggage in the process. Serves me right for leaving my crap everywhere — Jacob is always telling me to pick up my stuff.

  I’m simply not equipped to deal with this at all. I knock frantically on Jacob’s door, until he finally reluctantly answers. “What the…” He looks tired, disheveled, and very annoyed. “What’s the big emergency now, Corrie?” Abby is by his side. Figures.

  “There’s a bat in my room,” I squeal.

  He laughs. “What?”

  “There’s a bat in my room,” I repeat irritably. “It’s kind of cute, but still… it’s a bat.”

  He’s still laughing. “Well, he can be your new pet. You go back to bed, and think of a name for him.” He slams the door in my face.

  Why, I’ll be…

  I push the door open. “Be a man already, and come and help me.”

  He smiles. “Well, apparently, you didn’t need a man when you went to bed…”

  “Well, I need one now!” I scoff. “There’s no way I can fall back asleep with that creature in my room. What if it gets tangled up in my hair in the middle of the night?”

  His grin is impish. “That’s an old wives tale, Corrie.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not risking it.”

  He walks toward me slowly, and comes to a stop about two inches from me — he’s so close, I can smell his familiar Jacob scent; fresh and woodsy. “And what do I get if I help you out?”

  I shake my head. Is the man serious? Honestly, all he thinks about is sex. “You get nothing.”

  He nears closer. “Ah, c’mon.”

  I ponder it for a second. “Hmm… well, you can rub my back for five minutes after. That’s it.”

  He laughs. “Well, that seems like a win-win for you.”

  I shoot him my most seductive smile. “So?”

  “All right… it’s a deal,” he concedes. “Now let’s go see about that bat.”

  Honestly, Jacob seems as jumpy as I am as he peeks behind the curtain. He’s not quite as take-charge as I’d imagined him to be. “C’mon, Jacob. It’s just a little thing, and you’re a six foot two man.”

  “It’s freaky,” he says as he pulls at the curtain. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

  I smile. “Yeah, isn’t it?”

  “Let’s give it a name,” he suggests.

  I laugh. “Don’t get too attached. He’s not staying.”

  “How about Woodstock?” he says. “Like the little birdie in Peanuts.”

  “Snoopy’s sidekick?”

  “Yeah.”

  I roll my eyes. “Sure. Let’s call him Woodstock. Now get him out of here.”

  Jacob squeals like a girl when the bat goes fluttering around the room again, seemingly disoriented. I dive under the covers — no way he’s getting at my hair. Abby and Baxter are both yapping, and Jacob is running around on the bed. I’m still hiding under the blankets. “What’s happening?!”

  “It’s flying around like a crazy bat is what’s happening,” he scoffs.

  “Well, get it out!”

  “I’m trying.”

  I peek out from under the blanket for just a second — it’s pure chaos. Like the coward I am, I slip back under. After a minute or two, it quiets down. Baxter stops barking, and so does Abby.

  “What’s happening now?”

  “He’s gone back into his hiding spot,” Jacob tells me as he jumps off the bed. “I need a cup, and something flat, like a newspaper or something.”

  He sets out to search for a paper
.

  I finally escape the bed in a quest to help him out. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to trap him in the cup, and release him outside.”

  “A newspaper won’t do,” I tell him and rummage through the kitchen drawers until I find what I’m looking for. I hand him the drink cup and a steel spatula.

  “Perfect!”

  I follow him into the bedroom as he carefully stands on the bed and approaches the bat. He pulls gently at the curtain and slides in the spatula. My heart is beating frantically as I watch eagerly. He’s swift and accurate when he presses the cup against the wall, and slides in the spatula. “I’ve got him.”

  He’s holding the cup carefully against the spatula when he jumps off the bed. “Open the front patio door.”

  I hurry to the door and slide it open. He steps outside and releases Woodstock.

  It’s cold and dark out, and I hug myself as I watch him. At first, Woodstock just sits there, wings still folded, confused. “Go, fly away,” Jacob urges. “Go be with your little bat friends.”

  “He most likely won’t go until we leave,” I tell him. “He’s probably scared to death by our presence.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  We decide to leave him alone and go back in. “How do you think it got in here?”

  “Well, last time we were here, there was one trapped in the wood stove,” Jacob tells me. “It died.”

  My heart sinks. “It died?”

  He nods, and then smiles. “Well, we saved this one.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Thanks for helping me out. Now I can finally get back to sleep. ”

  He’s standing close again when he asks, “What would you do without me?”

  I smile, at a loss for words. That’s exactly what I’m trying really hard to figure out at the moment. “Well, goodnight. I’m going back to bed.”

  I wave at him as I head back to my bedroom.

  A few steps later, I feel him trailing me. “What?” he says. “You don’t want your back rub? A deal is a deal.”

  5

  I smile. “Sure. But it’s not turning into anything more. Don’t get any crazy ideas.”

  His impish grin is anything but innocent when he tells me he won’t.

  “Okay…” he starts, “the pajama top needs to go.”

  I stare at him for a second or two, biting my lip. I don’t like where this is going. I’m already aroused. I’m never going to be able to resist him if I’m half naked with his hands all over me. I realize that I should have never agreed to this. But on the other hand, I really do like the idea of a back rub.

  I turn from him and oblige. I hug my small breasts as I head toward the bed.

  He grins. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Corrie.”

  I smile. “I bet you don’t miss my A cups. You’ve probably been shoving your face in C and Ds.”

  He settles on the bed, next to me. “Nope… I’m more of a one handful kind of man.”

  I laugh. “You’re so full of it. All men like big boobs… it’s a fact. And you know as much as I do, I don’t even have a handful’s worth.”

  “Well, I still miss ‘em,” he says. “And the rest of you.”

  As soon as his warm hands are on me, I sigh. I can’t help it. His touch feels so good, and I’ve missed it. Five minutes… sigh. I want more. I want his hands all over me.

  “How’s this?” he asks, knowing quite well that it’s fucking amazing.

  “Meh,” I say. “I’ve had better.”

  He laughs as he draws circles around my shoulder blades, sending shivers down my back. “So not as good as the masseuse you see every month? What’s her name again?”

  “Leila,” I tell him. “She’s much better than you.”

  He slides a finger slowly down my spine. When he encounters the band of my pajama pants, he pulls them lower over my rear. His finger travels down to the tip of my ass crack. “I bet she doesn’t do that.”

  Damn him. Damn him and his magic fingers.

  “You like that?” he asks, his voice ragged. “God, I love your back. I’ve always loved your back.” He drags his hands along the curves of my waist, and lowers himself onto me. He presses a soft kiss between my shoulder blades.

  His touch travels straight to my core, all the way down to my sex. I want him to explore me further, but I know exactly where that will lead. And I really do need to move on. “Um… I think we should set a few rules for this massage… no kissing, and no escaping the boundaries of my back.”

  “If you insist,” he says, his words playful. “Up to you.” His fingers dance across my lower back, so close to my sweet spot. He knows as soon as he strokes my ass, it’s game over for me. I’ll be begging him to fuck me within a minute. “I could cross the boundaries and make you feel so good, Corrie,” he tells me softly. “But that’s up to you.”

  I sigh. Why is he being so manipulative? I’m determined to appear unaffected. “No, this is fine.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, sliding a finger under the band of my pants, teasing me. I close my eyes and let myself enjoy his touch for a moment. I’m tired. I’m weak. I’ve had a tough week, and I just want a release. Maybe just this once. One last time?

  But I’ve been doing so well. I was so proud of myself. Fifty-one days now. The longer I go, the easier it will get. But God, it would feel so good…

  Maybe I can still let him pleasure me without going all the way.

  He’s still teasing, a finger sliding back and forth under the loose band of my pants. “With your permission, I could pull these down and rock your world, baby.”

  God…

  “Uh… yes, you could,” I say, my voice small.

  “What was that?” he teases. “I can barely hear you.”

  “I said that yes, you can pull off my pajama pants… if you like.”

  He laughs. “Oh, I like all right.”

  He doesn’t waste a second. With a hard tug, he pulls them over my rear, and his mouth lands on my ass cheek. He licks a slow line down to my thigh, and I think I might just pass out from the desire. His beard scratches my soft flesh but I absolutely love it. I want more.

  “Fuck, I want you so badly, Corrie.” His words are cracked at the edges. He’s hard and aroused. I don’t need to see the evidence. I just know it. I could have him inside me right now if I wanted, but I’m determined to stick to my guns.

  I turn to face him, and he leans in for a kiss. When our lips meet, my mouth opens for his. I know I should pull away, but I can’t. I’ve missed his kiss so much.

  But what are we doing? We can’t keep doing this. I’ve made a decision to leave him, and he needs to accept it. He can’t keep doing this to me. He needs to let me move on with my life.

  I push him away reluctantly. “No kissing,” I say, breathless. His face falls, his eyes darken. He’s wounded, hurt by my sudden rejection. I can’t look at him anymore. I turn my back to him again and get on my knees. “Can you touch me?” I ask him. I need this. I need the release.

  He doesn’t respond for the longest time, and I’m vulnerable in front of him, naked, aroused and desperate, my breasts hanging, my pajama pants around my knees.

  When his long finger finally reaches under and slides along my sex, I exhale a sigh of pure pleasure. He grabs my rear hard with one hand, and with the other, he explores. With each amazing stroke, I’m brought closer. I moan out loud, losing myself in the moment. “God, yes, baby. That feels so good.”

  “Come for me, baby,” he whispers. “I want to hear you.”

  I press myself against his hand as he slides his skilled finger back and forth in rhythmic motions — he knows just how to touch me. He slides a finger inside hard, and teases my G spot. That’s when I absolutely lose it. I moan and scream myself into a stupor, until my climax finally recedes. I let out a huge breath as I fall onto the mattress. I’m spent.

  “Fuck, that was good.”

  He laughs. “Well, you know me. I am good.”r />
  “I know you are. That’s why you’re so damn hard to quit.”

  His smile fades. “Then why quit me?”

  I pull the bedsheet over my breasts. “You know why.”

  “Don’t cover yourself,” he pleads as he pulls the sheet back. “You’re beautiful.”

  I smile. He’s beautiful too. Those dark bedroom eyes will be the end of me. I’m suddenly brought back to our wedding day. I was convinced that I’d married the most beautiful man on earth — inside and out. And the sad thing is… I still think that. This is why I know that he deserves better than this.

  I kneel up on the bed. “Your turn.”

  His smile is coy. “What?”

  “Lie back,” I command.

  He grins as he gladly stretches back on my bed. I slide my hands over his sculpted chest and admire him for a few seconds before I move down and pull off his flannel plaid pants. His erection is glorious, and I can tell that he’s very eager.

  This won’t take long at all.

  I brush my hair over one shoulder, lower my head and take him in my mouth.

  6

  I wake to the sound of the blender. Jacob is making smoothies again. I check the clock. It’s only seven-thirty. I roll my eyes and bury my face in my pillow.

  He’s already getting on my nerves, although a smile traces my lips when I’m brought back to last night’s events. That wasn’t quite sex, was it? We didn’t have intercourse. We barely kissed. We just pleasured each other. Surely, that doesn’t count. That said, I’m officially on day fifty-two of not having sex with my ex husband. Well, soon-to-be ex, I should say. This process is taking forever. Jacob is always ‘too busy’ to attend the required meetings and sign anything. Truth be told, he’s made it extremely difficult. And since he’s an attorney, I can’t help but feel like he’s been putting me on this past year. I know the divorce process takes a long time, but this is crazy.

  Jacob startles me when he pops his head in my doorway. “Oh, you’re awake. Good.”

  I glare at him. “Of course I’m awake… with that racket you’re making out there.”