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“Hold on. Gotta see if my brother has some condoms.” He went down the hallway to his brother’s room and searched the nightstand, thankful to come up with a box that still had five in it. He opened the package and slid it on, walking back to the living room where Marilyn waited.
Spreading her legs farther, he plunged deep inside, not even giving her a chance to adjust to his size. Her walls collapsed around him, and she moaned so loud he knew someone could hear them if they were outside.
“You wanted this,” he said, pushing in and out so hard he feared he was hurting her. “This what you wanted to talk about? Is this why you came over?” Damn, it felt so good. He closed his eyes and continued to thrust, making the back of the couch slam against the wall. Pulling completely out and slamming back in, unrelenting as Marilyn moaned and called out his name.
He came faster than he wanted, but he was relieved it was over and he could send her on her way. Burying his face in her chest, he pumped in and out a few more times before sliding out and sitting on the floor. She kept her legs spread, eyes closed, her stomach rising and falling with her breath.
“Mikey…” she moaned again. “I missed that. We used to do that all day long.”
“Talk. What did you need to tell me?” He reached for his boxers on the floor and put them on.
She sat up and raked her hand through her hair. Her mascara was smeared down her face. “This is kinda hard to say after what we just did.”
“Damn it, Marilyn. Tell me.” He grabbed her bra and panties and tossed them to her.
“You have a son.”
He heard her but wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. “What? Say that again.”
“You have a son. He’s three.”
“I’ve been gone for four years. You sure it’s mine?”
Marilyn glared at him and put her bra on. “I found out I was pregnant right after you were sent away. That’s why I stopped visiting you. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure how to tell you. And then I started to show. He’ll be turning four soon.”
“You didn’t know how to tell me?” Michael stood up and slid his jeans on, keeping his shirt off. Marilyn remained in her bra and panties. “Oh gee, maybe you could visit or write me and say it. You could even call. We were allowed phone calls.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want you stressed the whole time you were locked up. I didn’t want you worried about us. And I surely didn’t wanna bring him to visitation. That’s no place for a child.”
“What’s his name?” Michael looked at the floor, unsure if he believed her.
“Jace. He’s funny and cute. When you see him, you’ll know he’s yours. He looks just like you.”
“Jace,” Michael repeated, shaking his head. Then the anger hit. “I need you to leave.”
“What?”
“Get dressed and fucking leave.”
“Mikey…”
“How dare you not tell me. I want a DNA test. I’m not gonna believe you until we do that.”
She stood up and finished getting dressed. “That’s fine. You’re allowed that. I’ll set it up and let you know.”
“Good. Now get out of here. I don’t wanna see you again until they’re drawing blood outta my arm.”
She reached out, touching his bottom lip. “Just like old times. The sex was just as good today as it was four years ago. I’m gonna be sore. I haven’t had a cock that big since you went away.”
He pushed her hand away. “Get outta my house.” He watched her leave from the window, driving down the road and out of sight. Slamming his fists against the wall, he fought the urge to continue punching, but stopped himself and took a deep breath.
A son? Why couldn’t she have just told him and left? Why couldn’t he stop himself? Deep down he knew Jace was his. Before he got arrested, there wasn’t a moment he and Marilyn were apart, and using protection certainly wasn’t something they stopped to consider. But until he saw the results, he was going to be careful. She was sneaky. Anything was possible.
Chapter Five
After a trip to his parole officer to prove he had scored a job, Michael was exhausted. Between the walking and the situation with Marilyn, he could’ve easily gone to bed for the evening and slept through the night. Sitting on the couch, he eyed the empty beer bottles Mitch had left behind. His brother wasn’t the best housekeeper, but he couldn’t complain. He was allowing him to stay there rent-free. He would try and be the best house guest possible without complaining about the living conditions.
Glancing at the floor beside the coffee table, he spotted the condom wrapper and used condom. He forgot to pick it up after she left, likely due to being frustrated about everything. He was a dad? How could she have kept something like that from him? How could he give in and sleep with a woman he had grown to despise over his four years away?
