The Legend (57 page)

For the
first time in months, he showed some outright aggression and slammed his fist
into our bedroom wall as he left the room.

And here
came the tears again.

I wondered
if this happened in everyone’s marriage or if we were the only ones. I wondered
what other wives did when the man who held their heart in their hands became so
distant they weren’t even present when they were. I wondered what porn stars
did when they were too sore to move because I was at that point.  I
wondered if I would feel like I had run a marathon in the morning through
barbwire and boulders. Then I cried some more when he didn’t come back to bed.

I missed
his eyes that sparkled when we were together and our shared moments. I missed
the boy that had promised me forever under thousands of twinkle lights and a
fresh blanket of snow.

That
promise to me was still there. Under that pain, that regret, the confusion, was
a boy fighting. Only now, his fight was a little different.

When he
didn’t come to bed, I went looking for him.

I found him,
sitting on the kitchen floor in jeans, no shirt, with a bottle Jack resting at
his bare feet again. Sighing, his left hand grabbed the bottle and lifted it to
his lips. After taking a drink, his head fell back against the cabinet, the
bottle dangling in his hand.

Not
wanting to pry, again, I left him alone. He came to bed not long after that and
though we had an argument, our bodies found each other in the night and by
morning I was wrapped around him and comfortable. When the light in our room
brightened with each passing minute, he whispered in my ear, low and raspy. “I
love you.”

“I love
you too.” I said meaning every word of it.

That
morning, my third day as a porn star, Alley came over again with a new bottle
of Tequila.

Casten eyed
her when he got home from Eldora with Tommy and Willie around six. “Should I
set up some kind of intervention?” he leaned against the counter with a smirk
that resembled one of Jameson’s and waved his hands around to our mess. “It
seems this is becoming a ritual.”

Alley had
been in the middle of explaining to me that I could try lingerie or even toys.
I had seen a dildo before and I didn’t think that would be necessary.

I wasn’t
exactly sure what she meant by toys but neither did my brain so we both gave up
trying and drank with her. It seemed logical.

When the
bottle of Tequila showed up while we were making dinner—Alley started to make
more sense to me.

But the
reality of it was that Alley and Rosa were instigating my whorish ways.

We were so
drunk by the time dinner was done that it wasn’t even edible and I had to order
pizza.

Just about
the time the pizza arrived, which Casten had to pay for since we were on the
floor, Jameson came home with Spencer. Tommy and Willie were still sitting in
the kitchen watching us with Casten. They didn’t know what we were talking
about because we gave up that topic and moved onto more important topics.

Aiden’s obsession with his socks.

I was
telling Alley about the time Emma and Aiden had fell through the door in Costa
Rica and Jameson nearly knocked himself out.

Jameson
glanced at Alley, who was now sprawled across our kitchen floor, as he moved to
the counter to grab a few pieces of pizza.

“She’s
fine.” I told Jameson and Spencer who were staring at us curiously. “I’m sure
of it.”

Smiling he
gave me a nod and then walked into the family room with Spencer and Tommy to
watch the baseball game. Apparently Lucas was pitching tonight for the
Mariners.

And when
Jameson went to bed after the game without saying anything, my next move was to
burst into tears because that seemed appropriate to me, which caused Willie to
look at me. Willie was a great drinking partner because he had been arrested
for indecent exposure a record number of times and could give a flying fuck about
social propriety.

He walked
over and, with absolutely no conviction, and put his hand out to comfort me.

“I’m going
to stop coming over if every time I do, you cry. I can’t take it.” Willie said
looking at me and then bottle of Jack in my hand.

“How is
that any different from any other girl you know?”

Willie
retracted his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “I should be offended
by that…but I’m not.”

I smiled
and offered the bottle, which he took.

“I’ll be
honest with you,” Willie handed the bottle back to me after taking a drink,
“the last time I was this drunk I woke up in the back of the hauler wearing red
hooker boots and a table cloth.”

“Oh yeah,
when was that?”

“Last
Tuesday.”

Like I
said, no propriety but Willie was great. He sat there all night and early into
the morning drinking with me and Alley and eventually Spencer too. It was a
good thing they all lived close.

So on my
fourth day of my whorish ways, I went to the store when Jameson left for the
shop. He had a test session in Charlotte at noon and then he said he would head
to the shop after that for a few hours and then be back home. He was in a good
mood, kissed me goodbye and even got me coffee before he left. I knew that he
didn’t want to feel the missing piece that was there but just like the
determined pit lizard I was to get him initially twenty years ago. I was going
to get through this and find my Dirty Heathen again.

That
night, standing in our room, I eyed my purchases and felt as if CPS would be at
my door later. Who does this shit?

Me.

The Mama
Wizard determined to get her Dirty Heathen back was who did that kind of shit.

I wasn’t
sure where he would be but I thought for sure he would be at the shop so I
dressed myself in these black lacy panties and bra to match it with knee highs
and a garter belt thing. I was all whored out complete with black heels I found
buried in my closet. I finished out this appearance with a tease to my long
hair and added some mascara and a little blush.

Standing
in the floor length mirror, I felt that I looked good but a little hideous.
Throwing a black long trench coat on, I headed for the shop hoping I didn’t get
pulled over looking like this.

The metal door squeaked when I opened it. Don’t think I didn’t
try to talk myself out of doing it either because I did. Matter of fact, I
tried the entire way there.

My mind and body came to one conclusion. Rape him.

Just don’t ask him to hit you in
the face.

He was there watching the dyno and entering dad with Willie
and Tommy.

Tommy looked over his shoulder at me and then raised his
eyebrows when he saw the heels, a low whistle escaped Tommy.

“We’ll come back tomorrow man.” Tommy said when I gave him
a look. Jameson had yet to turn around but nodded his head at Tommy and Willie.

Smirking, he slowly turned in the chair to look at me.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with his eyes wandering
over my long black trench coat.

“Oh, I just robbed a Chevron.” Walking closer, I let my
hand travel up his arm and touch the side of his face. “I had some time to
kill.”

He smiled. “Did you get me some skittles?”

“What are you, ten? Who eats those?”

“Me. I eat those.”

“I can think of something better to eat.”

“Oh yeah, show me and let’s see.” He flipped his wrist for me
to remove the coat.

I dropped the coat and straddled him.

He let out a chuckle. “Please don’t ask me to hit you
again.”

“Just fuck me.” I sighed moving my hips against the bulge I
felt forming with each shift of my hips. “Fuck me like I’m all that’s on your
mind. Fuck me like you can’t get enough of me.”

I watched his face fall with each word that I spoke. I
watched it fall but he didn’t answer either.

And then he pushed me away gently.

Well that sucks. Once again I
turned him off.

Taking my hand, he led me to the door and into the car. We
drove back to the house in silence, confused.

“I thought you had
work
to do?”

“Yeah, well I’m tired.”

And that sucks too.

He was out of the car and heading inside the house as soon
as the engine was shut off. I stepped out of the car slowly, shivering in the
cool night air and regretting this ridiculous outfit.

I practically had to run to catch up with him.

Jameson stood straight, posture perfect, shoulders rigid,
as he walked throughout the house and then upstairs. He wouldn’t look at me.

I found him inside the bathroom fumbling with his last
bottle of antibiotics and the lid he could never seem to get off. Prying it
from his fingers, I got it open and then he motioned for me to go inside our
room, his eyes on the floor.

I wanted to ask him what his fucking problem was. I mean, I
had been trying for three nights and all he did was get pissed off at me and
reject my efforts.

Standing outside the bathroom, I rustled through my dresser
to find some more appropriate clothes. I was done being a porn star. I wasn’t
cut out for such a hard lifestyle. Dropping the coat to the floor, I started to
take my bra off but stopped.

The door to the bathroom slammed, startling me. And then I
was being lifted off the ground. My legs wrapped around him on instinct.

His lips crashed into mine, relentless and unyielding.

I matched him with everything I had wanting everything he
had.

Maybe my porn star days weren’t
over.

He pushed me up against the wall and crushed me into the
chocolate colored walls. Hot wet lips were against my throat. The thin fabric
of my ridiculous outfit balled up in his fists as he pushed his hips into me. I
could feel him right against all the places that missed him so much.

He took a shaky breath and moaned into my mouth. It felt
like the first breath he had taken since we got in here, labored and needy.

I meet his eyes, wild and feral as he pulled at the straps
of my garter trying to rip them away. He didn’t have to tug too hard and they
were falling to the floor followed by my panties and bra.

His kisses had an intensity I hadn’t seen in a while.

“I can’t
get enough of you.” He finally spoke. “I still want you every minute of the
day. I still get hard when I think of you naked sprawled out before me.” His
hand slipped from my cheek and down the valley between my breasts, eyes
remaining locked with mine. “Please believe me when I say that.”

Without
saying anything, I brought his mouth back to mine wanting more of those intense
kisses.

We were on
the bed in seconds and he was entering me the next.

“Make love
to me.” I begged holding onto him anywhere I could.

I could
feel his body shaking slightly. Catching his stare that was on me, I looked at
him, really looked at him. “I love you.”

Jameson
let out a shaking breath that seemed emotional for him and nodded; his eyes
glistened and then got watery. “I love you too honey.”

His left
hand, the hand I’d seen show so many his anger, softly touched my cheek, the
other wound in my hair to tip my head back slightly. “I’m sorry. Please believe
me.”

His eyes
remained intently focused on me, carefully watching.
“Sway?”

His hand
rose hesitantly brushing the tears aside that I didn’t know had slipped away.
Dipping his head, his fingers raised my chin for me to look at him. “Do you
believe me?”

“I do.”

Shifting
his hips, he began to move inside me. “I want you to know that I will give you
whatever you want but I will never hurt you physically for pleasure. That’s not
me.”

Nodding, I
understood why he had gotten so upset.

“This is
you and me. Don’t over think it.
Just feel.
Feel me
...
” He pushed himself deeper moving my leg up
his thigh higher. His body trembled under my touch. “Feel you
...
” His hands cradled my head in his hands.
“Feel us
...
”

I fell. Completely
fell into a state of fluffy clouds and daisy fields. It was like finding a new
groove on a slick track only no one else new the groove was there. We made love
for hours. Sensual mind blowing sex but the kind that was leisurely and full of
long passionate kisses that shook you to the very core and felt like you were
newlyweds and nothing matters but that promise you made under thousands of
twinkle lights and a fresh blanket of snow.

I felt his
breath on my face. He was watching me feeling the moment too. His exhale was
strained, words shaking. “You’re so beautiful.”