Page 46 of The Housewife's Robot
As I slide behind the wheel of Daniel’s luxury sedan, a wave of nausea hits me. This is the car he drove every day. The car he probably went to meet Katherine for their secret rendezvous.
I force the thoughts away, focusing on the present. I have to focus on my date with Jack. On the possibility of something normal in the midst of all this craziness.
The Italian restaurant Jack suggested is cozy and dimly lit, with red-checkered tablecloths and candles in wine bottles. He’s already waiting when I arrive, standing up from his table with a warm smile that reaches his kind eyes.
“Rose? You look lovely,” he says, extending his hand. “I’m Jack. Thanks for agreeing to meet on such short notice.”
His hand is warm and solid in mine, his grip firm but not aggressive. He pulls out my chair for me before returning to his own seat, and I find myself relaxing slightly in the face of his straightforward courtesy.
“No problem,” I say, looking around at the nice restaurant.
“I hope the drive wasn’t too bad,” he says. “Traffic can be a nightmare downtown at this hour.”
“It wasn’t terrible,” I reply, settling into the rhythm of normal first-date conversation. “I know a few shortcuts.”
Jack is even better in person than he was in our brief text exchange. He’s funny without trying too hard, and genuinely interested in my work and my thoughts. Nothing like Daniel, who in the later years of our marriage barely bothered to ask about my day.
Jack is refreshing. He asks about my childhood in Iowa, shares stories about his most challenging students, and makes me laugh with his self-deprecating humor. For two hours, I manage to forget about the nightmare my life has become. I’m just a woman enjoying dinner with a charming man who might, in another life, have been precisely what I needed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ROSE
After our date, we’re in my bedroom, and Jack’s mouth is hot against mine, his hands tangled in my hair as we stumble toward the bed.
I shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not with my ex buried in the backyard.
But Jack’s tongue slips past my lips, and I moan despite myself, desperate to lose myself in something normal, something human.
“You’re so beautiful, Rose,” Jack whispers against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. “I don’t usually move this fast, but there’s something about you...”
“I don’t move this fast either,” I whisper. “But I need you.”
The truth is that I needed to make sure that I’m not weird and that a human man can still make me horny.
I pull him closer, my fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. After dinner, he’d suggested a nightcap at my place, and the wine we’d shared downstairs has left me loose-limbed and reckless. All I want is to forget, to feel, to pretend that my life is simple and normal.
“Is this okay?” Jack asks as we fall onto the bed together, his weight pressing me into the mattress in a way that’scomfortingly human—warm and solid but not immovable, not inhumanly strong like Caspian.
“Yes,” I breathe, arching up against him as his hand slides under my dress, fingers skimming along my inner thigh. “Please, touch me.”
His hand moves higher, tracing the edge of my panties with a teasing touch that makes me squirm. He’s taking his time, being gentle, considerate. It’s so different from Caspian’s precision, from his ability to find exactly the right spot, the perfect pressure, without hesitation.
Okay, the first step is to stop comparing a robot to this human man.
But I can’t help it.
Jack’s mouth finds mine again as he finally pushes my panties aside, his fingers exploring the wet heat between my legs with curious strokes. I gasp against his lips, my hips rising to meet his touch.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, sounding pleased and a little surprised. He circles my clit with his thumb, and I moan softly. It feels good, but it lacks the electric perfection of Caspian’s touch, the way he seems to know exactly what I need before I do.
Stop comparing them, I scold myself silently, focusing on the man above me, on his very human desire, his very human touch.
Jack is real. Jack is normal. Jack is what I need.
I reach between us, finding the bulge in his jeans and stroking him through the fabric. He groans, pressing harder against my hand, his fingers increasing their pace between my legs. We’re moving fast now, desire spiraling higher, clothes being shed and tossed aside until we’re both naked, skin to skin.
Jack’s body is nice—fit but not overly muscled, with a light dusting of hair across his chest that feels pleasantly rough against my nipples as he moves down to take one in his mouth.His cock is average, human, already leaking precum as I wrap my fingers around it.
