The Home-wrecker (The Goode Brothers)
The Home-wrecker: Chapter 20

Today is one of those days when I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t have to get up for Abby since she’s still with Caleb’s mother, Melanie, and I have nothing on my schedule.

It’s just past nine when I hear movement downstairs. Perking up, I glance at Caleb’s things on the nightstand. His watch and wallet are still sitting in the exact spot he left them.

Maybe he’s going in to work late today.

After climbing out of bed, I get cleaned up quickly, hoping he might leave before I go down and I’ll miss him. After throwing on some plain yoga pants and a loose tank top, my phone buzzes with an alert on the bathroom counter.

It’s your lucky day! Your first fertile day of the week. You know what to do. *Winky face*

“Ugh,” I groan around my toothbrush, fighting the urge to toss my phone in the toilet.

There won’t be any of that today.

After he saw Dean and I getting out of the car yesterday, Caleb and I awkwardly avoided each other for the rest of the night. I had nothing to confess to, and he didn’t bother accusing me.

Why didn’t he?

Does he care so little that he wouldn’t at least fight me for more information? I obviously want my husband to trust me, but it would be nice to see him get a little fired up, too. Especially when it pained me so much to turn down what could have happened with Dean.

It wasn’t even about the physical stuff with him. We have an emotional connection that I’m denying myself for a husband who barely acknowledges me. I’m so lonely in my own marriage it hurts.

Quickly, I jog down the stairs to find Caleb sitting at the dining room table with his laptop open. His eyes are framed with dark circles underneath, as if he didn’t get much sleep last night.

“You’re not going in today?” I ask as I pull the coffeepot from the machine.

“No,” he mutters lowly.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and try to ignore the suffocating tension between us right now. I know he’s staying home because he doesn’t trust me alone with Dean.

But I’m not just going to tiptoe around this and pretend like everything is fine. I’m tired of sweeping things under the rug and letting the fuse go out. Dean has awakened something inside me that won’t let me be passive anymore.

I’m tired of pretending our life is perfect while it falls apart.

“So, are you just going to work from home until he moves out?” I ask, gripping my coffee cup so tightly I’m afraid it could shatter.

“If I have to,” he argues as he glances my way with a stern expression.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t feel comfortable leaving my wife alone with another man,” he replies, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Maybe instead of always trying to protect us and bear every burden alone, you could just talk to me,” I snap.

“Talk about what?” he replies. “You won’t tell me what happened.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

“Should I?” he snaps back. The silence stretches out before he adds in a cold tone, “You’ve cheated before.”

My eyes pop open in surprise. “Caleb,” I bark at him. The pain of those words is etched on my face. I slam my coffee cup down on the counter. “I can’t believe you would say that to me.”

He stands from the table but keeps the island between us as he places his hands down on the granite surface. “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

“How dare you use that against me now,” I spit back, my voice growing louder. “I cheated on a terrible boyfriend to be with you.”

“So look me in the eye and tell me that nothing happened with Dean yesterday.”

Gripping the counter, I lean forward. “Nothing happened.”

“Don’t lie to me, Briar.”

“I can’t help but feel like you wish something happened with him yesterday,” I argue back.

“Why would I want that? Why the fuck would I want another man to touch my wife?”

“I don’t know,” I shout, throwing my hands in the air. “But you brought this young guy to live at our house, and then you left me with him here like you were testing me. I think you wanted him to touch me.”

“I think you wanted him to touch you,” he bellows.

“At least someone wants to!”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” As much as I hate the anger on his face, I love to see him riled up. Alive and fighting instead of breezing out the door and ignoring the massive fire blazing our lives to the ground.

“It means the only time we have sex anymore, Caleb, is when we have to. And even then, I see how much you hate it. Like it pains you to fuck me.”

“We just had sex last week!” he argues.

“One time!” I scream.

“I always want you, Briar. But yes, this fertility stuff has taken all the spontaneity out of it. I don’t like being told by an app when I can fuck my wife!”

“And that’s my fault?” I cry.

“I never said it was your fault.”

We’re both worked up, tightly wound, and ready to explode. Caleb slams his fist on the counter as he glares at me. “This has nothing to do with our sex life.”

“Caleb, right now, everything is about our sex life.”

Ignoring my argument, he continues, “Tell me right now, Briar. Do you want him?”

“Why? So you can do nothing about it? Do you really even care?”

“Oh, I’ll fucking do something about it,” he spits in return, his voice booming now.

“What will you do, Caleb? What would you honestly do if I told you I wanted him?”

“Do you?” he yells.

“Yes! Okay? I do want him. And I nearly let him fuck me yesterday, Caleb. Is that what you want to hear?”

His face contorts into anguish. “Why?”

“Why?” I screech. “Because he listens to me. He pays attention to me. He makes me feel wanted and desired and like I’m more than just a fucking body to make a fucking baby! Now I realize that I should have let him fuck me. Because then, at least, you’d be mad for a good fucking reason. Then maybe you’d finally fight for me.”

My tirade is so heated that I feel like the room around me grows fuzzy and out of focus. I don’t even notice when the door to the kitchen opens until I blink and notice a third person standing on the other side of the kitchen island.

He’s tall and shirtless in my periphery. My chest heaves from the outburst, and I’m staring at Caleb before glancing over at Dean.

“Jesus, I could hear you guys all the way in my apartment.”

I force my eyes closed so I no longer have to face my husband.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “You should go.”

“Fuck that,” he replies. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Caleb barks. “He should stay and explain why the fuck he tried to fuck my wife.”

Dean lets out a haughty chuckle. “You know exactly why.”

My eyes dance back and forth between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Caleb answers first. “You say I don’t fight for you, Briar, but only days after he arrived, I was at his apartment, threatening him to stay away from you.”

“You were?” I ask.

“And he admitted he was trying to seduce you,” he adds.

My gaze lands on Dean. I should be angry about this, but in my mind, all I can think is—he wanted me.

Then I look back at Caleb. “That night…you and I…”

He nods.

“So, this whole time, your jealousy made us…stronger,” I say, my skin still buzzing with energy.

“I’ve never seen two people with such terrible communication,” Dean mutters.

He’s right. We’re a mess. We can’t even express ourselves to the one person on this earth we should be able to talk to. Caleb’s expression is tight and disgruntled as he nods in agreement.

Rubbing my forehead with a sigh, I turn toward Dean. “You should really go. You’ll just make things worse,” I say, finally looking up at him.

There’s a pause of silence before his response.

“Or…I can make things better.” He says it so plainly that I think I misunderstand him.

“How can you make things better?” Caleb snaps.

“Because I see what you two need even when you don’t. Briar, Caleb wants to fight for you but is too afraid to lose you.”

I glare at him in confusion as he turns toward Caleb. “And Briar’s so busy giving you everything you want that you don’t think to ask what she wants.”

“What, are you our marriage counselor now?” Caleb replies with cutting sarcasm.

“No,” Dean replies with a shake of his head. “I don’t do that shit, but I heard enough from outside that door to know that this is about sex. And sex is something I do know.”

I let out a scoff as I look away.

“You’re both pent up as fuck. I see it. So, let me help you.”

“Why would you help us?” Caleb asks, and I glance up toward him to see the sullen way he glares at Dean. He’s as surprised as I am that Dean would do anything to benefit him.

“I don’t know. Because I can’t stand to listen to this shit anymore. And because I’m fucking good at what I do.”

My eyes track toward my husband on the other side of the island, and I wait with bated breath for him to say something. I expect him to spout out more touch her and die bullshit, but the words that do finally come out of his mouth take me by surprise.

“All right. You’re so sure you know what my wife wants, then prove it.”

My lips part, and my head tilts as I stare at him in shock. “Caleb,” I whisper. But he doesn’t look my way. He’s too focused on the other man in the room.

“You sure about this? Back out now if you don’t want to go down this road,” Dean says softly, looking back and forth between us.

Caleb and I stare at each other for a moment. What I know we both see are remnants of a relationship that was once built on passion and love. We used to believe that this marriage was the greatest, most important thing in the world, and I miss that version of us.

He must be thinking it, too, because after a moment, we each nod at the same time.

It’s Dean who speaks next. “Good.” Then, in a deeper tone, he adds, “Briar, come here.”

I turn toward him in surprise, and the expression he’s giving me now is the same as the one in the elevator yesterday.

I feel like I’m floating for a moment, too dizzy and disoriented to think. All I hear is the smooth, deep command, and rather than deliberate, I just do as I’m told. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I tell myself that this is okay. Caleb told him to.

Ignoring the fact that my husband is standing right there, I move toward Dean. When I reach his side of the island, he runs his fingers across my neck. Brushing my hair out of the way, he brings his lips to my ear. “Good girl.”

Shivers rack through my body at those words. I swear my legs tremble as I lean into him.

“She listens so well, and she wants to please, don’t you?” Dean says.

It feels impossible to swallow, but I manage it as he gazes into my eyes, waiting for my response. This is really happening. How is this happening?

“Yes,” I murmur.

“This is what your wife likes, Caleb. She likes to be good. But she likes to be corrupted too, don’t you?” Dean gazes into my eyes as he says those words, uttering them like they’re strings of silk gliding down my spine.

Silently, I nod.

These are the things I want Caleb to know that I’ve never had the courage to say. I want him to take control. Stop treating me like his perfect little wife and start treating me like the woman I am. A woman he wants.

Dean is holding my face, and I feel like I’m caught in the same storm I was caught in yesterday. Desire so potent I could drown in it. This need is so all-consuming I’m drunk on it.

When he leans in and presses his lips to mine, I nearly lose the strength to stand. Clutching onto his arms, I let him lick his way into my mouth, fully aware of my husband standing just on the other side of the island.

Caleb’s jealousy is what we need and that’s what this is all for—and yet, it feels so wrong.

Dean’s kiss is heady and intoxicating, as his soft lips make me forget my own name.

As the kiss comes to an end, I can’t bear to open my eyes. I’m still clinging to him as he says to Caleb, “If you want her, come and get her.”

My eyes pop open as I turn my head to find Caleb standing right next to Dean. I have no idea when he came so close, but he’s now within reach.

“Briar, come here,” he says in the same low command that Dean used, but his voice is laced with possessiveness and desperation.

Fiercely, he grabs the back of my neck and hauls my mouth to his, kissing me with heated passion and need.

And when Dean’s mouth finds the side of my neck, I realize I must still be sleeping. This is nothing more than a dream, and I’d be a lucky woman if I never woke up.

“She wants to please you,” Dean mumbles, just under my ear. “Tell her how to please you.”

Yes. Tell me, and I’ll do it. Anything.

Arousal blooms between my legs as Caleb pulls away from our kiss and grunts against my mouth. “Get on your knees for me, Briar.”

My panties are practically soaked as I drop to the floor. I still can’t believe this is happening, but it feels like the three of us are getting carried away down a river none of us want to swim against. We all want this. Maybe we all have wanted this for longer than we’re ready to admit.

It’s not even ten in the morning in my kitchen when I pull down my husband’s zipper and see his hard cock behind his boxer briefs while another man stands next to him and strokes my hair.

“There you go, Briar,” Dean mumbles, urging me on with the softness in his praise and commands. “She needs to hear how good she’s doing,” he tells Caleb.

“Attagirl,” Caleb replies. “You look so good on your knees for me.”

The effect his words have on me is unnerving. As if I really would do anything at all.

As Caleb’s cock springs free of his pants, I stroke it softly in my hand, gazing up at him as I wait for his next instruction. I’ve never seen him remotely like this before, but it fits him.

My husband has held in so much over the years, but I never had the guts to urge him to let out everything he’s hiding. And I know there is so much. This feels like just the tip of the iceberg.

“Tell her what you want,” Dean says, prodding him.

“Worship my cock like it’s the only one for you.”

I don’t hesitate. My lips wrap around Caleb’s hard length, and I coat his entire shaft with my saliva, humming with pleasure as I move my mouth from the base to the tip.

“Holy shit,” he mutters softly.

“Tell her. Let her hear you,” Dean says to Caleb, persuading him to say more.

Caleb strokes my face, making a pained expression as he says, “You look so fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth, Briar. Do you like it?”

My eyes water as his cock hits the back of my throat. Gagging, I pop my mouth off, and a string of spit hangs between the head and my lips. “Yes,” I reply as I catch my breath.

Caleb thrusts back into my mouth, moaning at the sensation when I suck on the crown, rubbing my tongue along the underside like I know he likes.

And as I’m stroking his dick with my lips, I gaze up at him in adoration. This moment is fucking wild, and a moment ago, we were fighting, but now he’s giving me what I want. And he’s finally getting what he wants.

None of this would have happened without Dean.

As if he realizes it at the same time, Caleb glances over at Dean. Their eyes meet, their gazes locked for a moment.

Something about the way they’re looking at each other makes me pause. It’s intense and not entirely charged with hatred or rivalry. Then Dean reaches out, and his fingers brush the backside of Caleb’s arm. My eyes widen as I wait for Caleb to react…but he doesn’t.

Then, as soon as the moment comes, it’s gone again. Caleb focuses his attention back on me, and I start to wonder if that was all in my head. Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but I swear the look they shared held…lust.

They were just caught in the moment. We’re all caught in the moment.

“She wants you to come down her throat. Don’t you, Briar?”

Eagerly, I nod. My mouth sucks harder, and my lips tighten around him as my head moves faster. Immediately, Caleb’s groans get louder and more desperate sounding.

“That’s it, Briar,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna come down your throat. My dirty fucking wife. My fucking wife.” His rambling becomes incoherent as he thrusts quicker into my mouth, and when I feel the head of his dick tighten, I wait for his orgasm.

With a loud moan, I receive a warm, salty stream in the back of my mouth. I’ve never swallowed before, so I try not to panic and quickly force it down, gagging and spitting as the rest unloads on my face.

Staring down at the floor, the sight of Caleb’s cum dripping against the tiles gives me a burst of exhilaration. I’m kneeling between both of them after my husband just painted my face white, and I realize that I should probably feel dirty or bad for what we’ve just done.

But I don’t.

For the first time in nearly ten years, I finally feel alive.