Page 144 of The Legend

The bedshook and the headboard knocked against the wall as he pushed into me over andover again. His grip hurt, his touch rough but strangely, I was enjoying it.

I couldn’tmove. Not with his strong body pressed to mine and his hold on my wrists thatwere now above my head. Pinned beneath him was what I wanted, so I thought.

The angleof his hips and the forceful pushes wasn’t exactly comfortable and I knew whenmy head hit the headboard again I just might get a concussion from this.

I went tomove to adjust his hold on me when it got to be too tight.

“Don’tmove.” He growled. “You wanted it rough.”

Weapparently had entirely different ideas about what rough meant now.

It crossedmy mind that I had I pushed too much. This wasn’t exactly what I had planned.

Though Iwas turned on, I was balling by the end and he knew it.

He didn’tlook at me and when he came, his body shook, his back arching into me, hismouth at my neck bit down hard and grunted with each forceful push his hipstwitching as he finished panting into my neck.

My bodyshook with silent sobs when he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked downat me.

That’swhen I saw the glistening on his. I wasn’t sure if his emotion was from beingso forceful or the fact that I was crying. “Don’t ever ask me to do thatagain.”

It wasn’tup for conversation and before I could say anymore or defend my reasoning, heremoved himself completely and headed for the bathroom, the door slammed behindhim.

I laidthere for close to an hour crying, confused and strangely turned on by hisaggression. Jameson has always been a hothead and easily set off but never whenwe were together intimately. I wanted to call Alley and ask her if that’d everhappened to her but then again I didn’t really want to think of Spencer thatway or know any details.

When hefinally came to bed, I decided I needed to explain. “I only suggested thatbecause I feel like we’ve lost our connection. I hate this.” I motioned betweenus. “Something is wrong and I thought being different might spark something.”

He sighedheavily, weariness settling over us, and rolled to the side away from me.Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he hesitated and then looked over at me.Like a poison in his blood, he hated this as much as I did.

“You thinkI want to feel this shit?” he then pushed himself from the bed to stand besideit, his arms raised defensively. “You think I want to be so detached I can’teven make love to my wife the way I want to? I want to. I want to spend days inbed with you and never let go. I want it so fucking bad that it’s all I thinkabout! I can’t even pass that fucking test because my mind isn’t even in it. Mymind is on you.” The ache is his voice hurt and his words seemed to weigh athousand pounds. I knew very well the pain he was trying to avoid. “Since my...” his voice faded as if the pain was toomuch. “I don’t want to feel this shit. I don’t want any of it!”

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

And herecame the tears again.

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

I missedhis eyes that sparkled when we were together and our shared moments. I missedthe boy that had promised me forever under thousands of twinkle lights and afresh blanket of snow.

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

When hedidn’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 athis bare feet again. Sighing, his left hand grabbed the bottle and lifted it tohis lips. After taking a drink, his head fell back against the cabinet, thebottle dangling in his hand.

Notwanting to pry, again, I left him alone. He came to bed not long after that andthough we had an argument, our bodies found each other in the night and bymorning I was wrapped around him and comfortable. When the light in our roombrightened with each passing minute, he whispered in my ear, low and raspy. “Ilove you.”

“I loveyou too.” I said meaning every word of it.

Thatmorning, my third day as a porn star, Alley came over again with a new bottleof Tequila.

Casten eyedher when he got home from Eldora with Tommy and Willie around six. “Should Iset up some kind of intervention?” he leaned against the counter with a smirkthat resembled one of Jameson’s and waved his hands around to our mess. “Itseems this is becoming a ritual.”

Alley hadbeen 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’texactly sure what she meant by toys but neither did my brain so we both gave uptrying and drank with her. It seemed logical.

When thebottle of Tequila showed up while we were making dinner—Alley started to makemore sense to me.

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