Chapter 6

INGRID

I felt horrible after he told me how he was feeling. Just horrible. Because he was right. He did do good. But, then, after I admitted that I knew Laura lied, he absolved me. Just like that. “It’s OK,” he said then. And he meant it.

Then we got drunk! I had never been that drunk in my life. It was actually a hell of a lot of fun. It was my crazy idea to get out the wedding photos. Before he started in on how blonde my family was, we’d been laughing at the expressions on faces. It was a great, great time.

And then I went to bed with him. With both of us wearing underwear and nothing else. It was by far the most I’d ever shown him. And he made a joke about perfect boobs. Did I trust him, or was I just too drunk to care? Yes.

And then came the next morning.

Yes, I was hung over, but it wasn’t horrible. Just a headache. That was my first sensation—ow, my head hurts—but then I quickly got another. You see, we woke up entangled in one another. One of his hands was right on one of my boobs. Our legs were so wrapped up in one another I’m surprised we didn’t start fucking by accident. This was as close to having sex as you could get without actually having sex.

And it woke up my libido. Big time.

My libido had been pretty dead for a long time. The last time I had sex was the last time with the sperm donor right before I found out I was pregnant. I’d spent most of the next three years concentrating on Leah. I’d spent most of the last few months dealing with all this emotional shit going on. Even though Brad and I were getting closer, it hadn’t gotten to lust yet.

It was at lust now. In fact, it was at Defcon 5 lust.

I didn’t say this out loud. Brad was a bit more hungover than I was, and was trying to hold down the Jameson from violently reappearing—which he managed with help from Pepto—and he was in no condition to respond to any confessions of lust.

But I wonder if he read my mind.

It was a weird day. It was a Saturday, so Brad didn’t have to work. After he felt better, he and I teased each other most of the day. He kept calling me Blondie. I kept asking him, “How’s your stomach?” Leah asked why Mommy and Daddy were being so silly. He walked by me once and I said, “Bork bork bork,” which cracked him up. It also cracked Leah up, but that was just because someone else was laughing and she’s three.

The whole day went like that. I can remember feeling that the pressure was off. That my admission that I didn’t believe Laura took the pressure off. And also, Jameson.

After watching a movie with Leah, putting Leah to bed, and watching another movie with just the two of us, we got into bed. I was back in the pajamas. And he did something different. He asked me to flip over, so that he was behind me. Then, he cuddled me from behind, doing the basic big-spoon thing. That was normal enough, we’d cuddled a lot the previous week.

And then he said it. Low, throaty, right in my ear.

“I love you, Ingrid. You know that, right?”

I gasped.

“You know, I think I’ve been in love with you since the wedding,” he went on. “Since you stood at that altar, and I told you how beautiful you were, and you looked at me like I’d just given you the world.”

I couldn’t speak.

“I know I’ve been in love with you since later that day. When you did give me the world and you called it Leah.”

I couldn’t catch my breath.

“And every minute I’ve spent with you since then has only deepened it. I love you, Ingrid Olson. And you deserve it.”

I was shaking.

And then he started kissing the back of my neck. Soft, light kisses. After a couple, he made sure to say, “I obey stop signs.” Then he went back to my neck. Nobody had ever done this to me. And it made me feel ... well, I think my lust hit Danger Will Robinson levels. I was undone. Completely undone.

And then he went for the earlobe.

I enjoyed that, very much, for a bit. Then I shifted, got my face under his, and pulled his head down. And our lips collided.

It got frantic in a hurry, our lips dragging against one another, our tongues intertwined, moaning into each other’s mouths. He broke for a second, so he could say, “so kissable.” I giggled into his mouth.

This went on ... I don’t even know. Forever. I couldn’t tell. When we broke, I took a deep breath—which I badly needed—and said it. “I love you, too.”

He smiled at me. And then he said, “Ingrid, what do you want?”

He gave me the choice. I will always remember, he gave me the choice. But there was no choice. “I want a real marriage.”

“Thank goodness,” he hissed, and then went for my pajama top! He practically ripped it off, then went right for my boobs, devouring them.

OK, I knew that he wanted this to a degree, but he was in an absolute frenzy. Over me. Unbelievable.

As he went to get my bottoms off, he said, just to make sure, “Stop signs are still valid.”

“There will be no stop signs,” I said, grinning. He grinned back and got my bottoms off. Then the panties. Then he shucked his boxers.

We’d never been completely naked with each other. He was going to go back to my boobs, but I stopped him—by reaching down and grabbing his dick. He grinned at me, and reached his hand down to lazily swipe up my pussy. Which was already wet.