Santos chuckles and puts his arm around me while I bury my face in his neck. "Babe. Don't be embarrassed. You were right to force the issue. It was great.""I'm gonna stop you right here for a minute," Justin interjects. I look up at him. "Mari, a long time ago you and I had a conversation about how frustrated you were because Santos refused to get adventurous at all and you were tired of being treated like a fragile object. Do you remember that?""Yeah. I remember you saying it was an argument you and your wife have sometimes."He smiles. "It's true. As men, we aren't always that great at being in tune with our partners' wants and needs. Sometimes you have to spell it out for us.""She definitely spelled it out for me," Santos interjects. "Is that true?" Justin asks me.I nod. "Good for you. You spent a lot of years passively doing what Santos wanted, so to hear that you took charge of what you wanted, of what you felt was right for your relationship, really shows your own personal
I've been staring at the ceiling for I don't know how long. All I know is that I haven't been this comfortable in, probably ever.I'm in bed on my back, one arm behind my head, and a very naked Mari snuggled up on me, head nuzzled into that place between my shoulder and neck, her arm over my chest, our legs intertwined. It's the post-coital position I never thought I'd experience again. Yet here I am, drawing circles on her lower back as she drifts in and out of consciousness.Me, though, I'm wide awake. Sated, but awake. And I can't stop thinking about what Mari said earlier about being content.People always talk about chasing their happiness, but what if that's the root of most relationship problems? What if that's been part of my problem? What if there is so much pressure to be happy, when happiness isn't something you can be every minute of every day anyway? What if being content, with lots of sprinkles of happiness, as Mari describes it, is actually a healthier, more realistic go
Her eyebrows crinkle in question. "Why are you thanking me?"Releasing her hand, I brush her hair out of her face and stroke her cheek. "I was so sure I had everything. I was cocky and arrogant and took it all for granted." I stop to clear my throat as the emotions sets in. "You jarred me out of my comfort zone and forced me to see myself for what I really was.""Santos…" she pleads."No," I interrupt. "Let me finish. I thought I was the strong one in our relationship, the backbone. But I wasn't. You were the strong one. You were always the strong one. And I took it for granted."I draw her closer to me and we press our foreheads together. "You forced me to see the reality of what I was doing and who I was. I didn't like what I saw, but I needed to see it. So thank you. Thank you for forcing me to be honest. With you. And with myself. I never want to go back to that place again. I never want to be that guy."Pulling away, I wipe the tears from Mari's cheeks while she wipes away mine.
VOLUME 3: GOALIEThere she is.Looking at her, I can hardly breathe. She's beautiful. Gorgeous, actually. Long dark hair. Shapely legs that go for miles. Killer rack.Much more glam than my "mom" bod. I shouldn't be so critical of myself. I've had three kids in the last five years, and Theo is only a few months old. But it's hard looking at her, knowing I'll never have that body again. Is this why my husband strayed?No. I don't know that for sure. Maybe he really is just tying one on with the guys like he claims.But I've heard the talk. I know the rumors. And she has the answers I need. I just have to have the courage to ask for them.Ringing my hands together, I take a deep breath and approach her."Hi." Tiffany looks up at me with surprise. Usually the only one to talk to her during the games is Quincy, the team captain's girlfriend. Everyone else steers clear. Partly because Tiffany is a groupie - well, former groupie anyway. Now that she and Rowen Flanigan are together, she's o
"Mmmmmmm....." I begin to hum. I squeeze my eyes shut, shifting my body weight on my knees, and grab her hips tighter. I feel myself getting close to the orgasm I'm chasing.Suddenly, the door flies open, breaking me of my rhythm."What the fuck, man?" I shout, as Darren Pumin struts through the door."Sorry. I thought you were done.""Santos." Sasha reaches between her legs and strokes her clit. "Keep going, Santos. I'm so close."I ignore Pumin, who walks into the closet and rifles around. Instead, I look down and see Sasha's creamy, flawless ass. I slap it once, making her squeal and begin relentlessly pounding into her again."Hey, you want a Cuban?" Pumin yells from the closet. "I'm only bringing out a few.""Hang on," I shout back. "Let me finish here first."I thrust a few more times and Sasha clenches on the inside. "I'm coming!" she shouts and then screams through her orgasm."Right behind you, mmmmmmm....." Seconds later, my balls tighten up and I feel a familiar sensation a
I wake to sunlight in my eyes. That's weird. It never gets sunny on this side of the house early in the morning. Peeling my eyes open more, I realize it has to be much later than I thought for the sun to be coming through the blinds like that. It's eerily quiet in the house. I haven't heard Theo squeal yet and none of the girls have poked me in the nose or put barrettes in my hair. I think. A quick rub of my head confirms that. Exactly how drunk was I that I didn't hear them this morning? I should have known better than to take shots. It never ends well for me.Rubbing my face, I take a deep breath and sit up. Where is my family? Did Mariana take them somewhere so I can sleep? That sounds like something she'd do. She's thoughtful like that. Making my way to the fridge for some water to get rid of this cotton mouth, I stretch my arms out wide, cracking my back. The couch is comfortable, but nothing compares to my giant, king-sized bed. We dropped a pretty penny on that mattress last
Six months later…I wake with a start. My eyes may only be half open, but my mom-senses mean I can take stock of what's going on around me almost instantaneously.Is a kiddo crying? No.Is there a burglar ratting around the apartment? No.Did I get a leg cramp? No. I'm still face down in my pillow, starfishing across the bed with one leg sticking out of the blankets.Now that I know everything is fine, I let myself fall back into dreamland.I wake with a start a second time. Now I know something is happening. I don't move, almost hoping it's a leg cramp, just so I don't have to move for a few more minutes.No such luck. Theo begins to cry in his crib across the room. I sit up, wipe my eyes so I can see the clock without any blur, and look at him."Really? It's six-thirty-seven. Is it necessary to be up so early?"His little bottom lip quivers as he stands there looking at me. I sigh. Someday, I'll get to sleep in past seven again. Someday.Scooting to the edge of my bed, I smell the pr
Peeking through the peephole, all I see is a fancy coffee cup. Being that my old-school coffee machine isn't even done brewing yet, that's all I need to see before I'm convinced to open the door. Surely a madman wouldn't bring me coffee before killing me."Good morning," I hear as I swing the door wide. A smile crosses my face."Marcus. That coffee better be for me," I jest with a smirk."Of course it is." He shoves the cup into my hands and lifts up a Shipley's bag and waves it in my face. "I brought something for the kids, too.""Donuts. You sure know how to bribe them for love. Come in."My next-door neighbor makes his way past me, into the small eating area and greets the kids with a smile. "Hi, Marcus!" Myra chirps brightly, while Lina grunts her hello. Theo doesn't say anything, just keeps his eyes trained on the bag. He may be young, but he's no dummy."Good morning, kiddos. I heard you guys get up, so I figured you'd like some donuts for breakfast," he singsongs. "Yay!" Myra