Jennifer Hillier - Creep

Sheila poked her head into the living room. Morris was yelling at the television, lost in the world of football. After a second of hesitation, she clicked on the text message from Ethan. It only took one second to read what he wrote.

What do u see in that fat fuck anyway?

Sheila gasped, then looked up quickly to make sure Morris was still in the other room. She took several deep breaths in an effort to stem the rage building inside her.

The goddamned son of a bitch! Who the hell did he think he was?

Suddenly she didn’t give a rat’s ass about the sex video that could destroy her career. Ethan wanted time off and a reduced workload? Fine, whatever. But nobody talked about Morris that way. Nobody. Careers weren’t everything. If Ethan was determined to get her fired, there was nothing she could do about it. But there was still a chance she could protect what she had with Morris, and that mattered more to her than anything. She had let this scumbag into their lives and it had to stop.

Shaking with anger, Sheila’s thumbs flew over the keyboard of her BlackBerry.

He’s 1000 times the man you will ever be. Go fuck yourself.

She pressed SEND before she could change her mind.

A sense of utter satisfaction washed over her. God, it felt good to stand up to this asshole once and for all. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a small smile, picturing the shock on Ethan’s face when he got her reply.

It was a full minute before panic set in.

Oh, no. What have I done?

Morris came into the kitchen and Sheila looked up, wondering if her burgeoning hysteria was written all over her face. She stuck her phone back into her purse as Morris opened his enormous Sub-Zero fridge to peruse its contents. He selected a can of Diet Coke and popped the tab.

“Anything important?” he asked, taking a long sip.

It was time to tell him everything. Her e-mail had just cemented her demise, and if she didn’t tell Morris now, Ethan certainly would. She had to explain before the bastard splashed her naked body all over the Internet. She had to prepare Morris.

“Not sure yet. We’ll see.” She came toward him with her arms outstretched. He accepted her embrace as he always did, resting his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She burrowed her face in his chest. “Is the game still on?” she asked, her voice muffled. There’s something I need to tell you…

“Done. Longhorns lost.”

“I’m sorry, babe. They’re just not as good without you, huh?” It was a sad attempt to be lighthearted and she hoped he wouldn’t notice her abrupt mood swing.

He kissed the top of her head. “You sure know how to butter me up.”

How do I tell you what I’ve done? “I know you miss being a superstar hotshot college football player,” she said, still muffled.

“I do, can’t lie. Best days of my life. Till I met you, that is.”

The anxiety was too much. It was seeping into every pore, right to her bones. She pulled back and looked up into his face. “Hey. I think I know of a way to make you feel better.” It was really a way to make herself feel better, a surefire way, but Morris didn’t need to know that.

He grinned at her, putting the soda down on the granite island behind them. His hands moved down to her butt and squeezed. “Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

She took him by the hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Come and see.” I need you, she thought, but couldn’t say it.

Morris followed a few paces, then stopped. “Wait. Are you teasing me?”

“Not this time,” Sheila said, pulling him close. Her hand went to his crotch, and she massaged him purposefully through his jeans.

He pulled back, breathing hard. “What about the wedding? I thought you wanted to wait.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Out of the blue?”

No. I’m panicking and I need to feel close to you before I lose you. She swallowed and managed a smile. “What can I say, I’m ready.”

He took her face in his hands, looking intently into her eyes. “Honey, I’ve waited a whole year. I can wait another three weeks. I know how important it is to you.”

His sincerity almost broke her heart. Goddamn you, Ethan Wolfe. “Are you turning me down?” she whispered.

Morris stared at her, the realization spreading over his face. Yes, she was completely serious. “Hell no!” he said.

Despite her turmoil, she couldn’t help but laugh. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, heading toward the stairs. “Let’s go before you change your mind. Hoo-ah!”

He carried her all the way up the stairs, and while it was exhilarating to know that her fiancé was strong enough to haul her weight over his shoulder, Sheila couldn’t help but worry he was going to drop her. After all, Morris was fifty, no spring chicken.

They got to the bedroom and he placed Sheila gently on the bed, out of breath but still grinning. The exertion on his red face didn’t stop him from reaching for his belt buckle immediately. Sheila touched his arm to slow him down.

“Take it easy, big guy. We have all day.” She gave him her most seductive smile, not wanting him to know that her real reason for slowing down was because she was worried about his health.

She’d never had to worry about Ethan’s health, but she pushed that stupid thought out of her mind. She needed to focus on the man in front of her. The man she loved with all her heart. The man she was finally ready to make love to.

She reached for his belt buckle, unfastened it, and pulled down his jeans. Through the thin fabric of his boxer shorts, she could see he was already hard.

He gazed down at her with an expression full of wonder. “You are something else.”

“I’m just getting started.” Her voice was throaty. “Take off your shirt.”

He immediately began to undress, his large fingers fumbling with the small buttons on his shirt. A few buttons in, he yanked it over his head, impatient. Underneath he was wearing a thin, white, sleeveless undershirt, but he made no move to take it off. Sheila didn’t ask him to, either-she knew he was self-conscious about his stomach. His jeans stayed bunched around his ankles and he stood like a statue, waiting to see what she’d do next.

She slid off the bed and got on her knees. After pulling his boxers down, she took him into her mouth with a passion that felt totally natural even though she’d never performed oral sex on him before. Hell, she’d never seen him this naked before. She’d never let him get past second base.

Her mouth worked on him expertly. The carpet in the bedroom was plush with thick underpadding, and Sheila could have stayed on her knees all day. But then something happened. She noticed it right away, and her heart sank.

Despite her expertise, Morris was starting to get soft.

Oh, God. She tried not to panic.

Pretending not to notice his softening erection, she worked him harder, moaning from the back of her throat like a porn star and looking up at him with big brown eyes. At first he met her gaze, but then he squeezed his eyes shut, putting his hands on her head to urge her on faster.

But it was no use. He couldn’t get hard again. She knew it, he knew it, and worst of all, he knew that she knew it.

She couldn’t imagine what the problem might be. Morris had never mentioned having difficulties maintaining erections before.

Sheila stopped what she was doing and he slid out of her mouth. She looked up at him. “Are you okay, babe? What’s the matter? Am I doing it wrong?”

“No, it’s fine. I guess I’m just a little nervous.” Morris attempted a laugh. It came out harsh and desperate. “I thought I’d be watching football today. Maybe go slower?”

She did, taking her time. But it didn’t help. Her hands, which were resting on his buttocks while she worked, were beginning to feel clammy. She wasn’t sure if it was her own cold sweat or his.