The Legend (56 page)

Apparently
our version of dirty was different.

“What?”
his eyes squinted and he swallowed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You never
had a problem with it before. We’ve been rough before?”

It wasn’t
long and he grabbed a handful of my ass and then swatted it once.

I got
braver.

“I
...
mean my face.” I had no idea what had come
over me and hated Alley and Rosa for turning me into a whore.

He pulled
away again searching my face. “Seriously, what’s with you?”

“I just
want to try something a little different.” I grabbed his hand and placed it on
my cheek. “Just give me a little slap.”

“Sway, I
don’t like this.” His pained expression told me he had some reservations that
went deeper than his words. His hand seemed to tremble slightly as if he was
scared but he didn’t move it. But he also didn’t hit me. “I’m not comfortable
hitting you.”

“I’m not
asking you to punch me.”

“You might
as well be.” He mumbled dropping his head to my shoulder, removing his hand
from my cheek as his movements stopped. He wasn’t going to hit me and I knew
that.

Jameson
was completely uncomfortable and then that made me feel like I was weird for
wanting to try something different.

I sighed
and he seemed to know that I was getting frustrated with our lack of connection.

“Get on
your knees.” He demanded.

Hot damn.

His hands
grasped my ass right as his hips met mine with forceful movements. Through my
glimpse over my shoulder, I could see his head bent forward, his eyes closed,
mouth slightly parted as he panted. The straining muscles visible in his
stomach flexed with each forward thrust. Watching him in the midst of enjoying
himself was hot.

And then
my rev limited hit red line.

You know
the times when you’re having sex and it’s all hot and aggressive, much like
now, but the climax is just not the same? It was good but not
mind
blowing like I’d hoped for. Something was missing.

Jameson
sped his movements, his hands on my ass squeezed tighter and I looked over my shoulder
at him. And he came. And though it was mesmerizing, something was missing.

It wasn’t
long and he fell asleep. Nothing was really said because like I said, there was
something missing.

Alley
showed up the next morning when Jameson left for the shop to meet Noah.

“Well?”
Alley asked with excitement handing me coffee she brought with her.

My body
slumped forward. “It was a fucking
clusterfuck
. I
watched that video and he came in the room. Then when I wanted to try it, he
acted as though I was asking him to beat me.”

Alley
seemed confused. “You can’t tell me that hard ass has never gotten rough
before. I saw those bite marks back in the day and I remember you
havin
’ to buy new underwear all the time.”

“He’s
never hit me!”

“I mean during
sex.” She said flatly.

“Like
slapped me?”

“It’s not
like Spencer punched me, Sway. It was just a little slap tap to my ass cheek in
the heat of the moment.”

“Slap
tap?” I laughed.

“It’s just
like a little slap to the ass or even your face, but not hard enough to
constitute any domestic violence shit.”

“Oh, well
he’s done that
...
you know, hit my
ass but never to the point where it hurt or anything. We’ve gotten aggressive
before and maybe tossed around before but nothing like what you’re telling me to
do.”

“What’s
the difference between being tossed around and what I told you to try?”

Maybe I
had missed something.

“I need a
new approach.”

For a
while I was just remotely concerned about this change in our sex life. Now I
was obsessed. We spent the greater part of the day talking about it.

Alley
looked at me with a smirk handing me a shot glass glance around five that
night. “Have you ever done the back forty?”

“What the
fuck is that?” In my head I was thinking sex in a field or something. I took
the glass and poured myself a drink.

Alley
shook her ass on the stool and nearly fell off. Frantically grabbing at the
counter, she righted herself and then took a deep breath pushing the bottle of
Tequila away. “I mean the back door.”

“Oh, uh,
well…we tried once a long time ago when we were drunk and he,” I took the shot
I poured myself. “
...
uh
...
it didn’t work out.”

“Maybe try
it.” She shrugged still grinning. “It might help. When we are in a rut,
sometimes it’s fun to try something different.”

“I don’t
think he’s into that.”

“You never
know until you try.”

So, as the
whore I had turned into, I tried again that night when he came home. Once
again, he got into it quickly but when I told him that maybe we could try
something new, after last night, he seemed a little hesitant.

I watched
the color rise from his neck and up his cheeks. He seemed nervous and
rightfully so. “What is it?”

And then I
said, “I thought we could try the back forty.”

He said
nothing.

I felt
like a complete fucking loser not to mention embarrassed. I was about ready to
say fuck it and run to the bathroom crying when he just looked at me and
blinked. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did all men want to try the
backdoor?

When I
went to get up, his arms tightened around me and I was unable to squirm.

“No. I
don’t want to do that.” His lips skimmed my collarbone and then moved to my
mouth. Kissing me softly at first, he deepened the kiss when I moaned into his
mouth. “You’re such a dirty girl when you want to be.” He grunted around my
lips and then went back to the kiss that had me nearly ready to come.

My
fingernails dragged down his back; and he arched into me at the sensation and
sped his movements. One hand moved from cradling my face to my hips and he
grunted as the angle of his hips allowed him to go deeper.

Reaching
down to his hand, I gripped it tighter. “Hold me tighter.” I let out this whore
moan that sounded like my pit lizard days. “I want to scream in pain.”

He inhaled
sharply, surprised. “You want me to do what?”

“Be rough.”
I was starting to sweat and become all frantic like I would combust if he
wasn’t going to give me something that showed we still had it. “I want to
scream in pain.”

He
hesitated but then reached his hand up and grasped my neck. “Like that?”

“Harder.”

He wasn’t
comfortable at all. I knew that. His eyes darted to his hand and my face again.
“Is that too tight?”

“No.” I
whimpered unwinding around him. “It’s so good. So fucking
good
.”

In the
heat of the moment, aggression got the best of him and he forcefully grabbed
the sheets fisting them in his hands. “Jesus, you’re so fucking sexing.” He
called at throwing his head forward.

“Tighter,
squeeze my neck tighter!”

It was
official. I was becoming a porn star.

“No.” he shook
his head against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut enjoying the movements.
“I’ll hurt you.”

“No you
won’t.” I shook my head trying to squeeze his hands tighter. “Just do it!”

“Where is
this coming from?” Jameson murmured, amused when I moaned at the contact as he
gave a little more pressure.

“No, harder.”

“No,
Sway.” He moved his hands away from my neck and raised his upper body to look
at me. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Are you
going to do it, or should I just take care of myself?” I snapped feeling the
emotion and embarrassment rush through me.

Given, I
was embarrassed at that point. I said what came to mind.

His
expression of curiosity turned to anger.

Leaning
back on his heels, his gaze wasn’t pleasant. “I know what you’re doing.” His
tone cut through me. “You think things will go back to normal if you try
something new. But you’re missing the point.”

“Oh yeah,”
I shook my head with attitude. “What’s that?” I too sat up against the
headboard.

“I love
you.” He growled between clenched teeth blistering my skin. “That has
never
changed.”

“I know
that.”

“Then
what’s this all about?”

“Just fuck
me!” I yelled. “That’s all I want!” I had completely lost it and continued my
rant reaching my emotional threshold yet again. “I want what we used to have. I
want the hot dirty sex that had you ripping my panties off in your motor coach
and taking me on the hood of your race car. I want to destroy bedrooms and
closets and break our shower door again. I want to take you to the hospital
again so you can have your ass stitched from falling through the shower door. I
want kinky!”

I’m not
entirely sure what my verbal lashing had done but I was on my back again in a
second and he was forcefully entering me.

“Is this
what you want? You want me to treat you like this, like you mean nothing to me?
You want me to disrespect you to make you feel sexy?” His control was gone. He
was pissed and more so than I’d see in a while. More so, it was the result of
me. “Does this fucking turn you on?” His fiery eyes full of anger met mine and
his hand that was grasping my hip and causing bruises, grabbed a handful of my
hair and yanked my head back so his mouth had access to my skin. I moaned.

“Is that
what you want?” he repeated as his teeth found my heated flesh.

I didn’t
say anything in reply because I had no idea what to say at that point.

He
wouldn’t look at me, instead, his eyes squeezed shut, his head bent forward but
his breathing was harsh.

Was he
enjoying it?

Maybe.

He kept his
movements up. With force, he slammed into me, my breath expelled in a heavy
gasp.

The bed
shook and the headboard knocked against the wall as he pushed into me over and
over again. His grip hurt, his touch rough but strangely, I was enjoying it.

I couldn’t
move. Not with his strong body pressed to mine and his hold on my wrists that
were now above my head. Pinned beneath him was what I wanted, so I thought.

The angle
of his hips and the forceful pushes wasn’t exactly comfortable and I knew when
my head hit the headboard again I just might get a concussion from this.

I went to
move to adjust his hold on me when it got to be too tight.

“Don’t
move.” He growled. “You wanted it rough.”

We
apparently had entirely different ideas about what rough meant now.

It crossed
my mind that I had I pushed too much. This wasn’t exactly what I had planned.

Though I
was turned on, I was balling by the end and he knew it.

He didn’t
look at me and when he came, his body shook, his back arching into me, his
mouth at my neck bit down hard and grunted with each forceful push his hips
twitching as he finished panting into my neck.

My body
shook with silent sobs when he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down
at me.

That’s
when I saw the glistening on his. I wasn’t sure if his emotion was from being
so forceful or the fact that I was crying. “Don’t ever ask me to do that
again.”

It wasn’t
up for conversation and before I could say anymore or defend my reasoning, he
removed himself completely and headed for the bathroom, the door slammed behind
him.

I laid
there for close to an hour crying, confused and strangely turned on by his
aggression. Jameson has always been a hothead and easily set off but never when
we were together intimately. I wanted to call Alley and ask her if that’d ever
happened to her but then again I didn’t really want to think of Spencer that
way or know any details.

When he
finally came to bed, I decided I needed to explain. “I only suggested that
because I feel like we’ve lost our connection. I hate this.” I motioned between
us. “Something is wrong and I thought being different might spark something.”

He sighed
heavily, weariness settling over us, and rolled to the side away from me.
Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he hesitated and then looked over at me.
Like a poison in his blood, he hated this as much as I did.

“You think
I want to feel this shit?” he then pushed himself from the bed to stand beside
it, his arms raised defensively. “You think I want to be so detached I can’t
even make love to my wife the way I want to? I want to. I want to spend days in
bed with you and never let go. I want it so fucking bad that it’s all I think
about! I can’t even pass that fucking test because my mind isn’t even in it. My
mind is on you.” The ache is his voice hurt and his words seemed to weigh a
thousand pounds. I knew very well the pain he was trying to avoid. “Since my
...
” his voice faded as if the pain was too
much. “I don’t want to feel this shit. I don’t want any of it!”