Chapter 145

Hannah

“You want to know about my sex life?” Emma’s face turned a bright shade of red, and she averted her gaze to the drink in her hand. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“Come on, Em,” Viona urged her, nudging her with her elbow. “We’re dying to know what it was like with your ex-husband.”

Emma scratched her head nervously. “I mean…”

“It had to have been awful. I mean, he was so much older than you,” Amber added with a shake of her head. “And fat, and bald.”

“Amber!” Viona swatted at Amber’s arm.

Emma shook her head and giggled at their teasing. “No, it’s true,” she said. “He had a big pot belly and was missing half his hair, but if I’m being honest… his body kind of turned me on.”

All of our eyes widened in unison. “Are you kidding?” Viona retorted. “His body turned you on?”

Emma nodded hastily. “I like older men who have a bit of weight on them. I don’t know why. I just… do. I always have.” She paused, sipping her drink. “He wasn’t even particularly… big down there, either. But he knew how to use it. And his fingers were wide.”

When Emma finished, her face was as red as a tomato. Viona, Amber and I blinked at each other in surprise. The thought of Emma’s ex in bed wasn’t the most appealing image to me, but if Emma enjoyed it…

“Hey,” I said, raising my glass. “To each their own. Emma, I sincerely hope you find another fat, bald man to give you orgasms with his giant fingers.”

My friends giggled. Emma turned to me then, directing the attention at the table to me. “What about you, Hannah? What's it like with Noah?”

“He’s so hot, the bastard,” Amber sighed dreamily.

Viona scoffed. “Too bad he’s such a jackass. Why is it always the hottest ones who are assholes?”

I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes turned to me. The pulsing music of the club seemed to fade into the background as I struggled to find the right words, and even though I hadn’t been drinking, my head seemed to spin. “Oh, um…” I stammered, caught off guard by the question. “I’m not sure if you guys would be interested. It’s not that exciting.”

“Come on, Hannah,” Emma urged, leaning in closer. “We’ve all shared. Your turn! There have to be at least some juice details.”

I took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. After all, these were my closest friends. If I couldn’t be truthful with them, who could I open up to? “Well, there was a time when we had an amazing sex life. When we were much younger, when we had just gotten married…”

“And?” Emma prompted, leaning her elbows on the table.

“And it was great. Really great,” I admitted, a small smile playing on my lips as I remembered those early days. “We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. It was passionate, exciting…”

“But?” Amber asked, clearly knowing that there was more to the story.

I sighed, my smile fading. “But then... it changed. Gradually at first, but then more noticeably.”

“What happened?” Emma asked.

“It just... fizzled out,” I explained, struggling to find the right words without giving too much away. “He needed an heir, so it turned into these monthly ‘intimacy nights’ that felt more like a chore than anything else. Like we were just going through the motions in order to produce a child. It got even worse over time when I wasn’t getting pregnant.”

The girls exchanged sad looks—all except for Viona, who had heard the painful story of our intimacy nights and the diet pills laced with contraceptives. I kept that part out, although I wasn’t sure whether it was because I wanted to keep it private or because it hurt too much to recount.

“Oh, Hannah,” Emma said softly. “That’s awful. A woman should be able to embrace her sexuality with her partner, not feel repressed.”

Viona nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Sex should be fun and exciting, not a duty. You deserve better than that, Hannah.” She shot me a pointed look.

Their words stuck with me for the rest of the night. They were right; I should have been able to explore my sexuality and enjoy myself with my husband, but I hadn’t done that in a long time.

As we danced and laughed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the early days of my relationship with Noah. The way he used to look at me, like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The excitement in his eyes when we would sneak away from events for a quick moment alone.

And then everything had changed when that doctor told him about my ‘frail’ body. Duty took precedent, and passion was lost.

And now, it had been almost a year since I had had good, passionate, satisfying sex.

By the time I got home, my mind was still swirling from the idea of it all. I tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake the thoughts of Noah’s hands on my body, his lips on my skin. I could almost feel the ghost of his touch, remembering how he used to caress me, how he would whisper sweet nothings in my ear as we made love.

The clock on my nightstand seemed to mock me as the minutes ticked by. One o’clock. Two o’clock. Three o’clock. Sleep felt far away; my body was buzzing with a feeling that I had been trying to push away, but it was useless. I needed… I needed to come.

Finally, frustration got the better of me. I reached into my bedside drawer and pulled out my toy—a small vibrating dildo that I had purchased not all that long ago. Maybe if I just took care of things myself, I could get my mind off of sex with Noah and finally get some rest.

I closed my eyes as I started to use the toy, trying to focus on the sensation rather than any specific person. But as I got more into it slowly pushing the dildo back and forth, Noah’s face kept appearing in my mind.

His strong jawline, his intense green eyes, the way his muscles rippled as he moved on top of me...

I tried to push the image away, to think of anyone else, but it was useless. Noah was all I could see, all I could think about. In my mind, it was his hands touching me, his lips trailing kisses down my neck. Goddess, I could practically smell his cologne.

Before I knew it, I was lost in the fantasy. In my mind, it wasn’t a dildo that I was using; it was Noah who was touching me, Noah who was bringing me pleasure. I arched my back, getting closer and closer to the edge. The toy buzzed softly under the covers, but in my imagination, it was Noah’s skilled fingers that were making me feel this way.

“Noah,” I moaned softly, too caught up in the moment to realize what I was doing. My free hand gripped the sheets as I felt the tension building, my toes curling in anticipation of the oncoming explosion of pleasure.

Suddenly, I heard the unmistakable sound of the door creaking. My eyes snapped open, and I froze in shock. There, standing in the doorway, was Noah. His eyes were wide as he took in the scene in front of him, his mouth slightly agape and his hair mussed from sleep.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, frozen in shock. The toy continued to buzz softly under the covers, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment, but I couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t even bring myself to remove the toy from between my legs.

Then, without a word, Noah stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.