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Back Lying Next to Me Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. START READING
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  45. CHAPTER FORTY
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
  54. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
  55. CHAPTER FIFTY
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
  60. CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
  61. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
  62. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
  63. CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
  64. CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
  65. CHAPTER SIXTY
  66. CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
  67. CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
  68. CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
  69. CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
  70. CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
  71. CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
  72. CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
  73. CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
  74. CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
  75. CHAPTER SEVENTY
  76. CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
  77. CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
  78. CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
  79. CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
  80. CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
  81. CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
  82. CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
  83. CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
  84. CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
  85. CHAPTER EIGHTY
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A few hours later, I was lying in bed with my legs in the air, waiting for my great guy’s semen to be released inside of me to do some kind of biological magic. The sperm was from a man who I didn’t trust; a man who was using what belonged to me—his seed—on some slut at the Blue Door.

Connor nuzzled me just then, and I breathed him in, trying to detect the scent of my rival. A perfume. Her bodily fluids. Her hair conditioner. Anything at all. When he was on top of me, I looked into his eyes and wondered if he was thinking of her or me. Did I need more Botox? Were my breasts starting to sag? The thoughts that raced through my mind had nothing to do with what we were doing at the moment.

Our lovemaking was mechanical. I did the bare minimum to encourage him to the finish line. Not that it took that long. Connor has never had much staying power. A thrust later, he made that face he makes when he comes. It looks joyful and painful at the same time. I used to love seeing the ecstasy on his face when we made love. Now it made me sick.

So I just lay there without saying a word. The stud was done. He rolled off me. The mare caught her breath. I wanted to cry. Really, I did. Was I anything to him, or was I just a job to get done? Go to work. Fuck Kristen. Rinse and repeat. I didn’t want to play the victim. I’m not about victimhood. But, goddamn it, I felt so wounded. So cast aside.

His face ruddy from exertion, Connor got up to get something to drink in the kitchen. I watched his naked butt as it disappeared out the bedroom door. At least, that’s what he used to do when he left the bedroom like that. Now I wondered if he was texting on his new phone, telling her how much he missed her. How much he wished he were free of his wife.

Free of me.

I wouldn’t put up with that. No, I wouldn’t. I was better than that. Better than him. Better than her.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

ADAM

Aubrey sits on my lap as we look through a photo album Sophie had made for her parents the week before she died. Aubrey’s warm and a little sleepy, but I’d promised. The pictures come at us one by one. Each makes her smile, laugh, or point.

“My birthday,” she says, indicating the image of Sophie lighting a trio of pink candles on a chocolate cake.

“That’s right,” I tell her.

I’m unsure if Aubrey really understands the finality of what happened to her mother. She talks of her as if she’s in the other room.