Continuation of Chap 16

"Four, three, two, one. Okay, Again. One-hundred, ninety-nine…" I took another deep breath and tried to keep quiet in the crowd. "Eighty-seven, Eighty-um. What's next?" With a group of school officials in front of me, I was only able to hear the echo of my heart humming to match the humming between my tightly clenched thighs.

My unraveling was quicker than I expected. My foot began to tap as a warning that I had to go. I had seen plenty of parents quietly dip out of the auditorium with a church finger, as if they'd sneak back in, but I couldn't pretend. I had made it out of the auditorium and through the halls of the school, but not with any of the "confident strides" the other PTA moms told me I had. I slumped against the wall when I reached my destination, and the buzzing stopped, meaning my tormentor realized that he had ran me out of the meeting.

After years, I was finally able to admit that I had a lot on my plate. I had three kids, an ex-husband, a boyfriend, a position in the PTA, and manically, I got back into my music. I tackled every errands without complaint. My only downfall was the thought, "I'll take a SHORT nap." I'd lie down and be woken up by the alarm that told me that my day had restarted.

Sam was stood up again. It happened more times than I could count, but he was understanding- except for the last time. When he talked about why I needed a "punishment," I laughed and promised him "anything." His idea was a vibrator that he'd control. He had power over me for twenty-four hours, and he waited until I was in the biggest crowd to start his game.

Sam sprinted towards me. "I'm sorry" He waved his phone, his controller, as a surrender. He unlocked the door to his classroom, nudged me inside and locked the door behind us. He was expecting me to tear into him in anger because of his behavior. He linked the fingers of both of our hands; he made hand holding so cute. He pulled me close before apologizing, "I thought it would be fun. I'm sorry for making you mad." He could be so sweet and innocent sometimes- others he was daring and wildly tempting.

I leaned into him to catch his pink lips with mine. I couldn't hide what I wanted. "I will explode if you turn me down now," I moaned. My kisses moved to his neck. I shook my hands free and desperately began to work the buttons of his shirt for more skin to kiss. Every contact set a new fire inside of me.

With a few swipes, he had started the toy back up. He chuckled at my sharp gasp. He led me forward by my hand.

"Sam, it's too high," I whined, but my walls contracted to keep the toy in place.

He dropped his phone aside. "Shh." He placed my hands on the edge of his desk and warned, "Don't move them." With me slightly bent for him, he gathered my skirt around my waist and lowered my panties.

His finger entered me, nudging the quivering egg into my sweet spot. Pressure. Relief. Pressure for five seconds. Relief for two. Pressure for seven. He didn't care to stay consistent. He knew that toys would only leave me restless and needy for him. He had started another game that I didn't have the patience to play for a single minute.

"Sam, no more teasing," I huffed, starting to grow the anger that he expected earlier.

Showing no pity, he pressed down onto the toy. "I don't think you learned your lesson yet." He ignored my groans.

"Okay, I won't miss any more dates." My hips wagged and rocked to find pleasure as Sam took his time to measure my sincerity. "I promise… Never again."

He scooped the toy out of my wetness, but before I could take in a breath of relief, he placed it against my clit. His rigid member steadily entered me. He didn't entertain me much when I reached for him and my head tilted back as I searched for a kiss. After a few quick pecks, he took the hand I used to break his rule and placed it in the center of the wooden desktop. His hand rested over mine to hold me at a sharp angle. His breath in my ear, his lips pressed against my hair. His hips bucked at the perfect rhythm until we both saw stars.

I was pulled into Sam's lap after he sat in his chair. I brushed my fingers through his dark blonde hair, trying to fight my desire to kiss at his flushed neck. I looked out at the rows of desks, and finally realized our action. "This feels wrong." Even in my wildest fantasies, I never entertained the idea of sex in the school.

"Well, we can go home."

His home

I agreed. "I should stop and pack my overnight bag." I smiled and waited for his usual response. "You're supposed to say that clothes aren't necessary."

He shook his head and announced, "There's a new restaurant that I want to take you to tonight."

"But I love our usual places."

"And I love you." After ten months of dating, Sam wasn't shy to say those three words. He nearly hunted for all the chances to say them, although he knew he wouldn't get to hear them back. "I understand. I want you to say it when you're ready," he repeatedly promised.

After a divorce, it's hard to decide who's deserving of the weight of the L-word.

Sam's hand soothed across my lower back. He reminded me of the plan to leave, but added, "Let's clean you up and put your toy back in." He gave a sweet laugh when I questioned his order. "It's not the end of the day." He knew when he wanted to strike again.

Hendrix, my middle child, leaned into the countertop as I lectured him about his grades. He was trying to talk his way out of the tutoring session, but when I explained why it was needed, he stopped listening. When he was ready to add to the conversation, he had the nerve to drop, "You know, my teacher is single."

"I'm not dating your teacher so you can have better grades."

"You don't have to date her to-"

Tank didn't stop sorting through the grocery bags before declaring, "Your mom isn't dating anyone… and she's not doing that." When he looked up, the conversation silently closed. "Go get the book." He never had to repeat himself to our kids.

After losing his home to a fire, Tank moved in with me and the kids. The decision wasn't easy, but "We're still a family," I told myself. With him around- and no album to focus on- life felt calm. It restored my faith in him. Of course, he loved our kids, but I had to be reminded if he liked them.

"How bad are his grades?"

Sadly, I admitted, "He got a twenty-three on his last test." I never saw that coming; my kids were always proud of having good grades, but Hendrix lost sight. It hurt me to take away the one thing he loved most: sports. "I told him that he couldn't touch any balls until he got a B."

He laughed, "He's a thirteen year old boy with his own room. He's probably already proved you wrong."

A worried mother couldn't make light of the problem. "Mr. Evans will be here soon." I wasn't a bit surprised when Tank questioned who. "He taught all of our kids. They were always happy to go to school when he was their teacher." I smiled as I remembered their glow as they recapped every day of their year with their favorite teacher.

My children could bring me joy, but they could also bring me pain.

My youngest daughter, Marley, opened the front door with a slam. When I called out to greet her, she shot, "I don't want to talk to you!" She loudly stomped up the stairs, giving none of the delicacy expected from a ballerina.

Whitney, my oldest, joined us. She was supposed to have taken Marley to her ballet class, but they were home early. "She can't go to class this week because you forgot to pay." She shrugged at my worry. "I had money left from Dad. I bought her a snow cone. She'll be fine." She refused to put any more energy into the problem. With her phone ringing in her hand, she went upstairs to "do homework."

Although she blamed me, I wasn't the cause of why Marley would miss her ballet classes. I put the check in her teacher's hand without thinking that her father would put up a wall to stop it from being cashed. We were both named over the bank account that was used for our kids' activities. As I had the power to plan withdrawals, he had the same power to void.

"If you were home more often, maybe you'd remember stuff like that," Tank poked. He smirked at the seed he had planted. "You didn't come home last night. Where were you?" He turned to me and waited for the shift that gave away all my lies; he never told me what my tell was, but he had proven that he knew it.

There was a tingle in my stomach that told me to lie to protect the man that was only seconds away from walking into my home. Thankfully, I was freed by the jingle of the doorbell. I could never hide the happiness I felt when Sam was near.

Sam was led into the kitchen by Hendrix. He smiled though his first formal introduction with Tank. When I moved the conversation by sharing the dinner menu, he complimented, "It's going to be delicious." He kept his comment so simple, but it triggered Tank to mumble about how he could be so sure.

I wrestled the urge to roll my eyes at the annoyance. "I made it for a teacher appreciation feast." I slid the cutting board to Tank, warning him to help or leave.

Sam turned his attention to my son and easily got his in return. To take the pressure off, he announced that every kid would face a year where they'd need extra help; he admitted to needing it for several years. "It didn't mean that I didn't know it. I just wasn't good at tests."

While Sam was preaching about finding alternative ways to learn, Hendrix heard what he wanted to. He took the story of the teacher that struggled with grades because of dyslexia as a point for his "grades don't matter" argument. With life experience, he believed he could open all the doors he needed. "What is an 'A'- like, what does it really mean?"

That was the moment I gave up on listening and focused on cooking. I had multiple pots and pans resting on the stove, and I was moving too much to notice if I had turned any of the eyes on. One pan I was planning to use had a missing and long forgotten handle protector. Because I didn't know it was heated, I didn't grab a pot holder before reaching for it.

I hissed out, making all eyes look at me. As Tank tried to comfort me, I shooed him away. I reminded him of the ointment in my bathroom cabinet and watched him rush off. I waved my hand to ease the ache.

Sam refused to be turned away. He caught my wrist to guide me to the sink. He checking the water temperature before pulled my reddening hand under the tap. When I melted my shoulder into him at the relief, he lowly teased, "This is why I have to take care of you." When asking for a towel, he followed my point to the drawer at the opposite end of the counter.

Tank stomped into the room. He pointed at our son then our guest. "Hendrix, go to your room, and you need to leave." He was accustomed to others following his command and didn't notice that Sam didn't move. He towered over me as he ordered me to explain the sleeve of pills he held up. In his other hand, he clenched the tube of ointment as if he was holding it hostage until I answered.

"It's birth control." I snatched the ointment from him. I squeezed a large lump into my hand, and although I knew it was more than needed, I was desperate to ease the ache. When asked, I snapped, "Why do you think I take it, Tank?" I turned, but he stepped to stay in the corner of my eyesight.

"I mean who are you taking it for?"

"Sam," I breathed before giving a lazy point to the silent man.

Tank pulled me to look at him, but the bulging vein starting to stretch across his forehead stole my attention. He scolded me for dating our kids' teacher. He called it sinking and desperate. "And you brought him into my house," he snarled.

Sam was willing to leave but not alone. He took my "well hand" and tried to lead me away. He got me down a few feet before I dug my heels in to stop him. When he turned, he was instantly caught in a staring contest with Tank.

I had to shift his face down to break his focus. I asked Sam to leave and promised, "Everything will be fine. I'll call you and reschedule the tutoring session." I didn't realize how I enjoyed kissing him goodbye until I was pressured to pass up a chance.

Tank watched Sam until he was outside of my home. "Don't ever talk to him again," he ordered me. His nostrils flared as he reclaimed his position over me.

"No."

"Either you stop seeing him, or he becomes all you have. It's him or our kids." He refused to see any other option. He wagged his finger between us to point, "You said we are a family. You're going to let some random man tear this apart?"

"We will always be a family because you are the father to my children." Being in my family meant that I would never want to see any harm come to him. It meant that I would always forgive him when he bullied me to get what he wanted- usually something I was already prepared to give. As my family, I could bicker with him for hours, but I deeply wished he knew that I wanted to be closer to talk about anything.

"But I love Sam," I admitted. If anyone would ask why, I would need days to explain. I could summarize my answer with "I love him because he is perfect the way he is."

Tank challenged, "So that's your choice?"

"I'm not leaving Sam, AND you're not taking my children." I didn't have a choice to make, just rules. "You will not talk badly of Sam in front of them. You will not do anything to jeopardize Sam's job. Your threats towards me will stop now. If you're serious about any of them, take action, and I'll see you in court."

He laughed at my attempt to put my foot down. "I will take the kids and have your boyfriend begging in the unemployment line before the end of the week," he promised. "Oh, I'm going to have fun in court, but imagine what I could do if I talked to just one blogger… You're planning to drop a single next month, right? Which one do you think will get the most views?"

I breathed, "Tank, don't-"

He had repeatedly told me his plan for when I started dating, and nothing I could say wouldn't change him. He let a little kindness spill from his heart. "Wrap your hand, and then I let you call him for the last time."

I thought breaking up over the phone was so cowardly, but again my options were unevenly weighted. I could end Sam and I's ten month long relationship on call or magically disappear from his life with nothing said. I covered my hand and made the call with Tank sitting at my side.

Sam picked up the phone on the first ring. "Are you okay? I'm still outside," he admitted, triggering me to break Tank's rule and go to him. Slow walk, downward gaze, he knew what I wanted to say. He met me and wrapped me in his long arms. He honestly said, "He shouldn't win."

But he was- always has. Tank was bigger, stronger, and played every game harder. If it was a matter of who could choose the best attorney, I would be willing to play for life. He could take the money, the house, and all the good publicity I had built. He knew what I cared about most was the love of my children, and he had all the right moves to turn them against me; it would only take one to shatter me.

Hugging him tighter, I wished it didn't have to end. "I love you." I felt awful for waiting to say it. I felt it all along.

"I love you too." Sam stepped back and looked down into my eyes. "And I love your kids. I can't be the reason they don't have their mom when they need her."

Tank watched us from the window. He was counting every second. He didn't care what was said between us as long as "Goodbye" was the final word.

Sam offered, "If you ever need help, you don't have to feel scared to call me. I'll be appropriate, and it will stay between us, I promise." The tenderness in his nature wouldn't let him walk away easily. He brushed his fingers over my covered hand. "Take care of yourself." He didn't fight off my kiss, letting me take my time before he drove off.

Watching me drag myself back inside with a pout curled the corners of Tank's lips up. "I'll order out for dinner. Marley likes Indian. It'll make her happy." His hand rested on my shoulder as he led me to help clean what was left out in the kitchen.

I could only watch him for a moment. I never would have guessed that being so heartbroken would feel so tiring. "Why can't you be a normal ex-husband?" I didn't know what that meant, but he wasn't one- not close. "This is the life you want? You'd throw all the important things aside to threaten me and chase off anyone I date."

"Right. We'll keep doing this the hard way until you learn your lesson."

"And what's that?"

"If I can't have you, no one will."

Please don't throw tomatoes at me. :D

I wrote part 1 four years ago, and as hard as I tried, I couldn't think of an idea for part 2. Thank you so much for the comments that fueled me to reconsider. My first draft of part 2 had a happier ending, but it read too similar to a story that will be here soon (chapter 20 and 21).

Thank you all for reading.