📚 the bad tenant Part 2 of 5
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LOVING WIVES

The Bad Tenant Ch 02

The Bad Tenant Ch 02

by eddie_wilder
19 min read
4.16 (25300 views)
adultfiction

Jess woke up Saturday morning satisfied in a way she hadn't felt in months. A lazy smile tugged at her lips as flashes of last night played in her mind like scenes from a porno. She remembered her own desperate cries as Tom manhandled her, the way he'd taken her again and again until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

For those precious hours, their problems had disappeared, hungry kisses and desperate touches replacing them. No mortgages, no tenants, no work, just husband and wife, skin on skin, breath on breath, two bodies remembering their old rhythm.

She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand to study Tom's peaceful sleeping face. At rest, the usual tension had melted away, making him look younger and more carefree, reminding her of the young man she'd first met in college. "I've missed you," she whispered softly. She'd needed this reminder that beneath the distracted husband buried in spreadsheets and work emails lurked the same man who once couldn't keep his hands off her.

Jess glanced at the clock. In less than half an hour, Bob would arrive to move in downstairs. The thought of their new tenant's imminent arrival should've sparked anxiety, but after last night's intimacy, it felt less threatening. Her body was too relaxed, too satiated to harbor any real concern. Still, she'd have to adjust. Their world was about to change whether they were ready or not.

Tom stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open to find his wife watching him. "Mmm... morning beautiful," he mumbled, rolling to face her. He lazily reached for her, his palm sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her closer towards him.

"God, you're absolutely insatiable," she laughed, deliberately grinding her thigh against his morning wood.

"Says the woman who kept begging for more," he teased. He playfully mimicked her breathless pleas from the night before, "Harder Tom! Deeper! Don't stop! Don't you dare fucking stop!"

Jess laughed and blushed, burying her face in his chest. Those passionate cries hadn't been about physical pleasure alone. They'd been a release of pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for months.

His hand moved to her breasts, softly squeezing, his touch was now gentle where it had been demanding hours before. "You were so fucking loud last night," he continued. "Good thing Bob isn't moved in yet. These walls aren't that thick."

The thought of their soon-to-be tenant hearing her screams sent an unexpected jolt through his body. He tilted her chin upward and kissed her while his hands explored as if they had all the time in the world. She let herself melt into it, let herself forget the clock ticking on her nightstand, but when his hand drifted to the waistband of her panties, she caught his wrist.

"Bob's coming at noon," she reminded him.

He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Of course he is."

"You're cute when you pout," she said, crawling out from under the covers and crossing the room. She could feel his eyes on her as she deliberately made a show of stretching.

"Christ, Jess..." he said from the bed.

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "You coming? Or do I get all the hot water to myself?'

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

Jess had always loved showering with Tom. She loved sharing the confined space, pressing up against him, feeling his hands explore her body.

Their shower ritual dated back to their college days. Even then, there'd been something uniquely intimate about sharing that confined space, about being completely bare, with nothing to hide behind. Every scar, every imperfection was exposed under the bathroom light.

Their showers had evolved into something deeper now. It was a place where the outside world couldn't intrude. Sometimes they'd make love, but more often than not they'd simply wash and care for one another's bodies.

The memory of their first shared shower remained vivid in Jess' mind. She'd been self-conscious at first, worried about him seeing her without makeup. But Tom had looked at her bare face and whispered "You're so fucking beautiful" with such raw honesty that her insecurities had melted away. That vulnerability, that complete exposure to each other, had formed a cornerstone of their relationship.

Jess reached for the bar of soap, but Tom took it from her. "Let me," he said, his voice carrying a gentle command.

His hands moved slowly over her body, lathering her back, and moving down to her ass. When she turned to face him, his eyes were locked on to hers.

"You're staring," she said.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" he replied.

Before she could respond his lips were on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she still registered the faint rumble of a truck engine outside.

"Shit," she muttered, pulling away. "That's him."

Tom sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "You've got to be kidding me."

They scrambled out of the shower as the intimate moment evaporated.

Jess slid her tiny black tong up her long legs and then fastened the matching bra as her breasts filled the cups.

"Jesus, Jess," he groaned as she bent over to pull on her yoga pants.

"Focus," she replied, pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head.

They moved to the window and peered outside, where Bob's F-150 sat in their driveway. Its faded blue paint and well-earned dents looked completely out of place next to Tom's Lexus and her Tesla.

They watched as Bob unloaded his truck, moving unexpectedly fluidly for a man his age and size. Between loads Bob paused, hands resting on his hips, calculating eyes sweeping across what was his new domain.

"Not much stuff," Tom observed, noting a surprisingly sparse collection in the truck bed. Sturdy boxes, heavy-duty metal shelving units, a grill, and a large suitcase completed the humble inventory. "For someone his age, you'd think there'd be... more."

"Maybe he's learned to travel light," Jess murmured, though part of her did wonder. Two divorces had to leave some sort of baggage, even if it wasn't visible in the truck bed. She found herself curious about what kind of women his ex-wives had been.

"Let's go say hello," Tom suggested, stepping away from the window.

They made their way downstairs and through the front door, coming out into the warmth and bright sunshine.

"Afternoon, Bob," Tom called out, stepping forward with his hand extended. "Welcome to your new home."

Bob straightened up, wiping his palm across his jeans before gripping Tom's hand in a firm handshake. "Afternoon," he rumbled, his eyes flickering to Jess as she offered a warm smile. "Nice day for moving."

"Need a hand?" Tom offered.

Bob paused for a moment and conducted a quick assessment of Tom's physique. "Think you can manage this one?" he asked, gesturing toward what had to be one of the heavy boxes.

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Tom didn't miss a beat, letting out a quick laugh. "I'll give it my best shot," he replied.

Bob turned his attention to Jess. His expression softened, and with a level of care, he handed her a smaller box labeled 'KITCHEN.' "And you, ma'am, get the fragile stuff. No offense."

"None taken," Jess said lightly, adjusting the box in her arms.

Tom and Jess made their way to the side of the house where Bob's new private entrance was located. Inside, Jess set her box on the kitchen counter while Tom placed the heavier case near the wall.

She then moved to the windows and raised the blinds, allowing natural light to flood the space, highlighting the finishes she'd selected.

"The light in here's gorgeous," she commented.

"Yeah, it makes this space feel bigger."

"That was the goal." She paused, considering the space through their new tenant's eyes. "But I have a feeling Bob might rearrange things."

They shared a look before heading back outside where Bob removed more things from his truck.

The unit transformed with each trip. His battered coffee maker took up residence on the countertop. His tools took up space on the floor of the spare bedroom.

Bob revealed an unexpected gentleness with his grill, pulling a rag from his back pocket and wiping down the surface before wheeling it toward his entrance.

With the last of the items moved in, they gathered around the dining table. "Let's get the paperwork squared away," Jess suggested as she spreading out the documents.

"Sure thing. Let's make it official," Bob commented, already reaching for the pen. His writing was neat and controlled, at odds with his rough exterior. The scratch of his pen against paper was the only sound until Tom cleared his throat.

"Keys," Tom prompted, and Jess snapped into action.

"Right." She passed over the ring of keys. "Front door and back entrance."

Bob then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, worn and weathered like everything else about him.

"Here's the rent and deposit." He counted out three thousand in hundreds and laid them on the table. "Two thousand for the month, one for damage."

Tom's eyes lit up at the sight of the cash, a mixture of relief and excitement evident in his expression. Each bill represented another small step toward financial recovery. He reached for the cash, folded the bills, and slipped them into his pocket.

Tom then pulled Jess close and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Bob's eyes flickered to them watching the display.

"Well, let us know if you need anything," Jess offered with a warm smile. "We're usually around on weekends."

"Will do." Bob replied. "I'll start settling in and maybe tackle some of that unpacking."

Tom extended his hand with a friendly nod. "Again, welcome to the house, Bob. Looking forward to having you here."

Bob's handshake was firm and solid like the man himself. "Yeah, well... guess I should say thanks for lettin' me crash here."

The laundry room took on new meaning as they passed through it. The space served as a connecting hub with three exits: the door they'd just entered through leading back to Bob's apartment, a door leading to their garage, and a third connecting to the main house where the stairs led up to their private sanctuary.

Tom was careful to lock this last door behind them. The soft click represented more than just security. It was the sound of their world being divided into 'ours' and 'his'.

"That went well," Tom said, his voice light but carrying a trace of relief as they ascended the stairs back to their space.

"Yeah," Jess agreed, following behind. "It feels... right. Like everything's finally starting to move in the direction we wanted."

Upstairs, Tom wrapped his arms around Jess and pulled her close enough that she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. "We're good," he murmured.

Jess tilted her head back, meeting his eyes. "Yeah... we are."

The moment was short-lived. Reality, as it always seemed to, intruded in the form of Tom's phone buzzing in his pocket. His mouth twitched into an apologetic half-smile before he pulled the device out, frowning at the screen.

"Davis," he said, already swiping to open the notification. "Meridian's getting anxious about the timeline... I have to check this."

Jess gave him a smile, stepping back just enough to let him go. "It's fine," she said, meaning it. After he had satisfied her so deeply last night, she couldn't bring herself to complain.

But she knew how this worked, how work always had a way of creeping in, stealing these small moments whenever it could. "Just two hours, right?"

"Just two hours," Tom promised, though they both knew it could easily stretch longer. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Then I'm all yours."

Jess laughed and nudged him toward his office. "Go on, then, workaholic. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish."

He grinned at that, flashing her a look that was all charm and boyishness before disappearing into his office. The door closing behind him left Jess alone in the quiet of their house.

Standing in the hallway, Jess' smile faded. The sound of the door closing shut was too familiar, yet another unfinished moment between them. She understood, of course she did. The promotion, their financial recovery, their future family, all hinged on his dedication to work. But understanding didn't make the constant interruptions any easier to bear.

---

In their master bathroom, Jess studied her reflection with the critical eye of someone who acutely understood the power of presentation. She applied a touch of gloss to her lips, then slipped off the oversized T-shirt and slid on a sports bra, adjusting the straps carefully to ensure a calculated amount of cleavage.

She swept her blonde hair into a high ponytail and adjusted it, allowing a few strands to fall loose in a way that appeared unintentional but was anything but.

The black Lululemon leggings she'd put on earlier were like a second skin. The high waist emphasized her tiny waist and the curves of her hips while it clung to her ass with almost obscene perfection. Her outfit walked that line between athletic functionality and raw sex appeal, a balance she'd mastered long ago.

She glanced at her wedding ring as she reached for her water bottle and gym bag. It felt right, grounding her in the commitment they'd renewed so thoroughly last night.

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"Heading to the gym," Jess called toward Tom's office. She heard his muffled acknowledgment through the door followed by the sound of rapid-fire typing. She smiled. Her passionate man was in work mode but that was okay. She knew exactly how to bring him back out when she wanted to. Besides, she thought, sometimes a little distance made the reunion sweeter. Last night had proved that much at least.

The drive to Elite Fitness was quick. When she pulled into the parking lot, it was half-full. Not so empty she'd feel exposed and not so crowded she'd have to wait for equipment. Just the way she liked it.

The heavy glass doors parted as she made her entrance. The clang of weights and whir of cardio machines created a familiar backdrop, punctuated by occasional grunts of effort and the sound of pop music from overhead speakers.

At the front desk, the young attendant's eyes widened slightly as Jess scanned her membership card. She pretended not to notice his gaze as she headed towards the separate women's section.

For the next half hour, Jess moved through her routine, legs and core today.

She started with squats, thighs burning as she pushed through a high number of reps. The muscle fatigue was amplified by the effects of straddling Tom last night.

Romanian deadlifts followed as she bent forward with her legs straight, stretching her hamstrings while putting her ass on display. The position reminded her of being bent over the kitchen counter.

The Bulgarian split squats proved especially challenging. Her legs shook more than usual as she lowered herself down, partly from the intense exercise and partly from the previous night's exertions.

She finished with core work, though her abs were already somewhat fatigued. Each plank and Russian twist showed off her flat stomach and defined waist while intensifying the pleasant soreness that permeated her body.

Jess then made her way to her preferred spot in the cardio section. The spot offered a nice view of the entire gym floor while keeping her somewhat removed from the main traffic areas. The mirrors in front and beside her reflected her form as she started jogging.

For thirty minutes, she maintained a brisk pace and a focused mind. Each stride was purposeful, and her breathing remained controlled but heavy.

Her chest rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm that drew wandering eyes like moths to flame. She'd caught more than a few men stumbling through their sets, their eyes glancing at her. Even a trainer helping a client kept stealing glances. She didn't acknowledge the attention but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing she could disrupt an entire gym's workout routine without even trying.

Her eyes drifted to the free weights section where Brandon dominated the space with his impressive physique. He was impossible to miss, standing six-foot-three, with lean muscle carved by countless hours in the gym. His tank top was damp with sweat, showing off his chiselled arms, while black athletic shorts revealed his thick quads. He looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness magazine cover shoot, and he knew it.

Their eyes met and Brandon's signature smirk appeared instantly. Oh great, here we go, she thought as he set down a dumbbell and made his way over to her treadmill.

"Well fuck me sideways," Brandon drawled, propping himself against the adjacent machine. "If it isn't Jessica Marshall herself, making the rest of us mere mortals look bad. Didn't think I'd run into you today."

"Really?" Jess rolled her eyes, but she couldn't quite suppress a smile. "That's your opening line today? You're losing your touch, Brandon."

"Sweetheart, my touch is just fine." His grin turned wolfish. "Just ask Madi about-."

"Brandon," Jess interrupted, shaking her head. "Do you ever say normal things?"

"Depends. Would 'hi, how's your day?' get me the same reaction?"

"Probably. Try it sometime. Anyway, I'm here all the time. Shouldn't be that surprising."

"Oh, believe me," his eyes remained on her chest, making no attempt to hide his appreciation for her body. "It's always a pleasant surprise when you're here."

"You think that line's gonna work on me?" she teased, shaking her head.

"Just calling it like I see it." he replied. His eyes made a deliberately slow journey down her body and paused at her magnificent ass. "I have to say, those leggings are gonna give some poor bastard a heart attack."

"My eyes are up here, buddy boy."

"Can't blame a man for admiring art... and you, Mrs. Marshall... are a masterpiece."

Jess laughed. "You did not just say that... do you practice these lines in the mirror, or do they just come naturally?"

"Pure talent, baby," he replied, turning to the mirror and doing a front double bicep bodybuilding pose. "Speaking of natural talents..."

"Stop right there," she warned. "I don't need to hear about your 'talents'. Madi's already overshared enough."

"Oh?" His features took on that infuriatingly confident look. "And what exactly has our friend been telling you?"

"Nothing that needs repeating," she replied.

"Where's the fun in that?" He shifted closer and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made her want to slap him. "By the way, there's something different about you today. You're... glowing. Tommy must've finally remembered what that gorgeous body of yours is for."

Heat crept up her neck. "Uh, just... a good workout," she managed.

"Uh-huh." Brandon's smirk said he wasn't buying it. "Nothing to do with why you're walking a little different today?"

"Brandon!" The protest came automatically, but inside her mind raced. Was it obvious? Could he really tell just by looking that she'd been thoroughly fucked last night?

"What? Just making an observation. But if Tommy's not treating you properly..."

"Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

"Plenty of options," he agreed easily. "But watching you pretend to ignore me is the highlight of my day."

"I don't pretend to ignore you. I actively ignore you. There's a difference."

"See? That right there, that sharp tongue. It's exactly why I find you so fascinating."

"Fascinating?" she turned to face him with one eyebrow raised. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

Brandon stepped closer. "What would you call it?" His voice dropped lower. "This thing between us?"

"There is no 'thing' between us," Jess said. "There's you, being annoying, and me, tolerating it because you're Tom's friend."

"Mmm," Brandon hummed. "Is that why your pulse speeds up when I get close? Because you're tolerating me?"

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