Hello, !

It's been WAY too long between episodes. I can't stand when Grey's Anatomy goes off the air for six weeks around Christmas. Sorry for the unintentional mid-season break. But it's back and I don't want you to wait any longer!

If you don't remember what happened in episode 4, here's a quick recap (WARNING! Spoilers from Ep. 4!!):

After saying Jake's name during sex with Kyle, Natalie has to sleep in the guest room. In the morning, Kyle's already left for work and Natalie calls her best friend, Sloan, freaking out. She has to make this right. Just as she's getting ready for her apology, Jake walks in and sees her naked. 

Is it totally awkward or totally hot? 

Back in the past . . .

Natalie and Jake get caught in the act, because well, trouble always follows them. Jake sends a couple of sweet and strategic gifts to her office and begs to make it up to her with dinner. Only this time, he's cookin'!

Will Jake and Natalie finally seal the deal or is trouble just around the corner. Find out now on My Two Husbands- Episode Five!

Episode Five

NOW

“I was grabbing a bandage.” Jake holds up his hand, a fresh white gauze taped around his knuckle. “I cut myself fixing the damn window unit seal. I called your name when I came in. Thought maybe you’d gone for a walk or something.”

I let out a deep, irritated sigh and tuck my towel tightly around me. If Kyle finds out that Jake saw me naked after what happened, he’ll really lose his shit. “Don’t you have a first aid kit in the loft?”

He shrugs. “I couldn’t find it.” Why is it that men never know where to find anything? Anything except naked women apparently.

Geez.

“Well, you shouldn’t be here.” If only he knew how loaded this statement really is.

“Quinn, the only reason I’m here bleeding is because I’m fixing your shit.”

Oh, it’s gonna be like that, huh? “Hey!” I yell. “Nobody asked you to fix anything.”

He squints his eyes, annoyed. “You’re just upset because I walked in on you naked. Well, guess what? Been there, done that.”

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

“Oh, really? You wouldn’t have seen anything if you had your own place!”

Jake flinches as if I’ve stung him. But you know what? He started it. “Fine, I’ll leave,” he says. Moments later the sound of him stomping down the stairs booms throughout the hallway.

“Good!” I yell after him and the back door slams shut. Lily barks after him.

“Dammit,” I say under my breath. Now they’re both mad at me.

I glance down at my wedding ring and think back to the moment that Kyle proposed. It was totally unexpected. But it made sense. Kyle and I make sense. My stomach churns at the thought of what happened last night. How he must be feeling. I still don’t understand how it happened and maybe I’ll never make sense of it all. All I can do now is right my wrongs.

Part of me is tempted to just go down there in my towel and “make things right” with Kyle. That’s how I would settle things with Jake. It was definitely the easiest way to get out of an argument. Not to mention angry, make up sex is as hot as everyone says it is. Looking back, I can see how childish and unsustainable that tactic really is. I’m going to handle things differently with Kyle.

***

I walk into Kyle’s office completely clothed—wearing the black top that he says is very sexy on me. “Hi Laurie, is Kyle free?” I ask the receptionist at my husband’s office.

Laurie chomps on a wad of pink bubblegum and smiles. “Oh, hi, Natalie. Let me check.” She clicks a button on her headset. “Kyle, your lovely wife is here to see you. Can I send her in?” A moment later, her jaw slackens but she maintains her chipper tone. “Okay.” Looking up at me standing over the high counter, she clicks her headset again. “Is everything okay? He’s been in a mood today.”

Like I’m gonna tell her what I did. I shrug. “He didn’t sleep well last night.” Which is probably true. “Thanks for your help.” I tap the counter and head down the hall. His usually open office door is closed today. I just hope his heart hasn’t closed too.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.” His voice sounds distant from inside.  

I open it slowly, not sure what to do with my face—look as shameful as I feel or steer the mood with a photo-ready smile? Who knows what the right thing is. I opt for a half smile and remorseful eyes. “Hey, honey.”

Kyle’s eyes are glued to his computer as if he’s working on something really important. “Hey.” He doesn’t look up, motion for me to sit, or offer any kind of decent greeting.

I guess I deserve this. “How’s your day going?”

“Why are you here, Natalie? I told you we would talk later?” he asks, still refusing to look at me.

I hate how chilly his tone is, and I’m half tempted to rip off my “sexy” top on the off chance it will change his tune. “I know, but I can’t stand you being so angry at me—“

Kyle finally looks at me, pain coloring his eyes. “So you came here to make yourself feel better?”

“And you.” I take a seat in one of the gray leather chairs. “You seem miserable.”

“Well, maybe if I’d called out my ex’s name during sex then you’d be pretty miserable too.”

His clunky wood desk sits between us like an emotional barricade. How can I get to the other side?

“Kyle, I know you’re pissed. And you have every right to be. But I came here to apologize. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about last night. I promise you, it didn’t mean anything. And if you want to get back at me by calling out another girl’s name when we’re together, then fine. Because I know how you feel about me. There is no doubt in my mind that you’re mine. I thought you knew without a doubt that I’m yours too. I love you, Kyle. There is nobody else.”

 

 

THEN

 

I scrape the last piece of eggplant along what’s left of the red pasta sauce on my plate and take my time indulging in the bite. They say that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach but in this case, it applies to women too. Between the satisfying meal and the second glass of merlot, Jake is looking pretty scrumptious himself.

“Mmm!” I mutter, swallowing my last bite.

The cook smirks. “If you thought that was good, just wait for dessert.”  

“Huh?” My eyes widen. Is he talking about dessert or dessert? Because right now, I’m down for either.

“I’m making chocolate covered strawberries,” he says, looking somewhat proud.

After the meal he just made me, I was expecting something out of the ordinary. But I’m not sure why I’m surprised. It’s common knowledge by men like Jake that strawberries are an aphrodisiac. “That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?”

Oops. Did I say that out loud?

With an amused chuckle, he takes my glass, topping it off with what’s left in the bottle. “Not the way I make it.”

The purple liquid in my glass rises like the tides in the evening. “Hey, you tryin’ to get me drunk?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, just tipsy. You’re cute when you’re tipsy.”

Yes, being tipsy is fun. It’s kinda like the beginning stages of a relationship. It feels good and you’re just along for the ride. It’s when you have too much that you get into trouble. But Jake doesn’t seem at all like the kind of guy who’s looking for a relationship, which is perfect for me. Besides, maybe if we sleep together we’ll get out of each other’s systems. He’s definitely an itch I haven’t been able to scratch.

Jake rises to his feet and takes my plate. I watch as he rinses each dish off in the sink. He pulls a few ingredients from a cabinet and grabs a saucepan.

With my wine in hand, I go investigate, standing behind him over the stove. “You’re not making the chocolate out of snickers bars by chance, are you?”  

He throws a broken block of dark chocolate into the pan, adding a few drops of some extract. “No. I’m pretty sure all the snickers bars in the city are in a basket on your desk.”

“That’s probably true.”

Jake wipes his hands on a kitchen towel then stirs the melting chocolate. The man is beyond gorgeous. He’s thoughtful. He cooks. He keeps a tidy place. Not to mention he’s a first class kisser. Quite the catch. I wouldn’t be surprised if he entertains a different girl every week.   

“I bet you make dessert for all the ladies,” I say.

“Nah, only the cute, tipsy ones.”

I giggle and he lifts the spoon from the pan. Dark chocolate drips off the tip.

He swipes a finger across the spoon then holds his chocolate covered finger to my mouth. “Wanna a little taste?”

Pretty ballsy asking me to lick his finger instead of the spoon.

Good thing I’m starting to like ballsy.

My lips part and wrap around his fingertip. Mmm, a light citrus flavor bursts in my mouth. I swirl my tongue, swallowing every bit of the chocolate.

Jake let’s out a little growl and bites his lip. He pulls his finger from my mouth and grabs my face, diving in for a kiss. I love the way his mouth tastes of merlot and chocolate. I inhale the sweet smell of his breath, his skin . . . it intoxicates me even more. He lifts me up on the counter like I weigh no more than a candy bar wrapper and glides his hand along my smooth, shaved thigh. I wind my legs around him, clutching his body closer to me. His kiss makes me high, like I’m floating.

Jake carries me over to the couch and sits back while I straddle him. He smiles and I look into his deep brown eyes. Even though we just had dinner, he gives me a hungered look. Mmm, time for dessert. We kiss again as I grind my hips over him.

He’s hard beneath me and now I’m positive that I’m an itch he needs to scratch too. I moan in his mouth as he grabs my behind under my dress. In one swift motion, he flips me over on my back and lies on top of me. My head rolls back while he kisses my jaw and tugs on my earlobe with his teeth.

Yeah, I like it, but love his lips on mine. I pull him back in for a kiss, feeling a sultry heat radiating through my skin. It’s getting hot in here. I better take off some of these clothes. I claw at his shirt and pull it over his head, then dig my nails into his back.

“You know just what I like,” he growls low in my ear.

Then—

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

An alarm blares in the apartment. “What’s that?” I ask.

Jake pulls up and I blink a few times, trying to clear the haze around him. He looks over his shoulder. “Oh shit! Fire!”

He climbs off of me and I prop myself up on my elbows. The haze wasn’t a hot and heavy fantasy. Smoke fills the apartment and I wave my hand in front of my face as if it will clear the thick cloud. Flames devour the cabinet above the stove. I jump to my feet.

Oh, my God. That’s a real fire!

I stay back while Jake beats his shirt against the blaze to no avail. We have to get out of here. With shaking hands, I retrieve my phone and dial 9-1-1. Then, Jake appears from behind the counter with an extinguisher and sets it off. White, cloudy dust spews over the flames, drying them up to nothing but burnt MDF and ash. I hang up the phone before I can tell the operator what’s happening and rush over to Jake. Beads of sweat drip down from his forehead to his heaving chest.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” I assess the charred counter covering my nose and mouth with my hand.

“Something caught fire from the stove. I dunno, maybe the towel.”

“Jesus,” I say. “We should open the windows and get out of here.”

I grab my bag and open his living room window, then dash outside. Jake isn’t far behind me. A siren sounds down the street. Maybe they traced my call here. Then an old woman wearing a yellow and orange floral muumuu and orthopedic sandals comes out of the next-door apartment carrying her small dog. “I heard the smoke detector, didn’t know if anyone was home so I called the fire department,” she says with a Long Island accent.

“Just a kitchen fire,” Jake says, shirtless and sweating like it’s no big deal.

“I knew something was heating up in there.” She purses her lips and glances between Jake and I with a judgmental glare.

“It’s out now. Sorry, Mrs. Russo,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah. You kids need to be more careful.”

I shoot Jake a side glance as he lowers his head in remorse. I bet he doesn’t burn up his kitchen for all the ladies.  

Within minutes, two firemen, dressed in their heavy yellow gear come running up the steps. “We got a call about a fire.”

Jake explains everything and they head inside to check out the damage. I should’ve known something like this was going to happen. This must be some sick joke from the universe—bring us together only so it can keep us apart.

“Are you all right?” Jake asks me finally.

“I’m fine. I should probably go. I’m sure you have a lot to deal with here.” I dig in my purse for my keys.

“After all that wine? No, you’re not driving.” That’s probably smart. Smarter than leaving the stove unattended.

“Fine. I’ll call a cab,” I say.

One of the firemen comes back outside. “Looks like the fire’s been contained. Good thing you had that fire extinguisher.”

“Yeah, that was fortunate.” Fortunate would’ve been no fire. Huh, Universe, how ‘bout that!

 “With the damage and the smoke, you’ll need to vacate the property at least until morning. We’ll write a report, but I’d call your landlord as soon as possible.”

“I will,” Jake says.

The fireman looks at me. “Maybe he can stay with you?”

And I swear the guy smirks. It’s almost as if they’d planned it that way. Maybe Jake does burn his cabinets for all the ladies. Nah, he doesn’t need to put on a show. If anything, he can afford to dial it back a bit.

Jake looks at me and shrugs. “What do you think, Quinn?”

I glance between the two of them. Both with begging eyes like kids asking for a sleep over on a Friday night. I hope that fireman knows he’s not invited. Jake’s enough man for me. Almost too much. “Fine, but you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Fair enough. Let me grab a shirt and I’ll drive us.” Jake sneaks back inside.

“You’re a good friend,” the fireman says.

I fold my arms. “You have no idea.” I really hope we’ve filled our quota on crazy shit for the night.

***

Jake drives my car and me home. The ride is practically silent. Nothing like a kitchen fire to ruin the mood. But I’ll tell you one thing—no one’s cooking in my kitchen tonight.

We walk into my small house and I toss my purse on the entryway table.

“Nice place you got here,” Jake says. “You own it?”

“Yep, got it with that first time homebuyers credit,” I reply proudly. How many twenty-two year old women do you know who own their house by themselves?

“Impressive.” Jake peeks around the living room then walks into the kitchen and opens the pantry door. “Built in the 70’s?”

I follow him around. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“When you work on as many houses as I do, you start to recognize these things. Like this.” He puts his hand in front of my back patio doors. “You can feel the heat coming in.”

“Well, as long as it’s not a fire,” I say and he hardly musters a chuckle. “Too soon?”

“This just needs a little weather stripping. It’ll cut down on the AC bill.”

I smile. “I’ll add it to the list.” With an older house, there are so many things I want to do.

“I can do it for you,” he says. “And anything else you need done around here.”

It would be nice to cross off some of those nagging items. But with our luck, the house will fall into a sinkhole while he’s fixing the plumbing. “Thanks, I’ll just hire someone.”

He walks closer, that same hungry look in his eyes. “You can hire me.” I can still smell the smoke on his skin.

“Oh, yeah? And what will that cost me?” I ask.

“I’m sure we can work out a fair deal.” He kisses me again and it’s even more delicious than the chocolate on his finger, so I let it happen. And happen. And happen. I swear his kiss is like a magic spell that makes me throw out all reason. Maybe he won’t be sleeping on the couch tonight.

I lead him to my bedroom, pulling down the zipper on my dress along the way. Who knows, maybe once we sleep together the universe will stop throwing us curve balls. Besides, the doors are locked, my phone’s in the other room, there’s no risk of burning the place down, so why not? What else could go wrong?

Jake pushes his jeans down, revealing his very well endowed tool. Does he always go commando? And why is that hot?

Then it hits me. I know what could go wrong.

“You have a condom, don’t you?” I ask.

He touches himself, unfazed by my question. “Of course. You’re on the pill, aren’t you?”

I raise my brow. How does he know that? I never told him. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Jake walks over to me in all his glory and lays me down on the bed. After slipping on that protective layer, he kisses me, tangling his hands in my hair as he dives into me and I feel the excitement, the relief of having sex for the first time. It’s like my body has been waiting and waiting for him. Every pleasurable sensation ripples through me as our bodies move together in sync. Sex is fun. It’s always been fun, but this is more than that.

It’s ecstasy.   

And just when I thought nothing else crazy could happen, I feel a burst between my thighs, penetrating up my spine and down to the tips of my toes. My mouth tingles, going numb. “Oh, Jake,” I call, gripping his dark hair in my hands. “I’m . . . I’m . . .”

 I can’t believe it.

I’ve had orgasms, yes! But never with a man.

Talk about the first time.

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Amanda Aksel

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