More Than Us

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by ChaShiree M.




  More Than Us

  More Than, Book 5

  ChaShiree M.

  Copyright © 2020 by ChaShiree M.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Pixie Chica © 2020

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also By ChaShiree M.

  Coming Soon From ChaShiree M.

  Dedicated to every couple who has ever felt helpless, lost, and stuck in the darkness. Use your love for one another to find your way out. Everything you have been longing for is on its way. Just believe.

  Chapter One

  Cord

  I don’t know how long I have been sitting in my driveway, dreading walking in meeting the same result I get every day. Looking at my watch, I know I left Dayton’s office at least over an hour ago. I shake my head thinking about how stubborn he is. I have been trying to explain to him that he didn’t need to spend the rest of his life trying to right the wrongs of one of his clients, but then again, I know true love when I see it and that guy is knee deep in it. So was I. Hell, if I am honest with myself, still am. Just wish my wife still felt the same.

  Looking back on it, it reminds me of myself. It was only ten years ago that I saw the girl I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. I was a law major in my last year and she was a business major. I was walking across the quad and she stood out like a pearl on a black sand covered beach. Everything inside of me began to beat wildly and out of control. I loosened my collar, my throat swelling, air not possible. The noise that was surrounding me, stopped, and off in the distance, I swore I heard the very breath leave her lungs. I found myself gasping for air as I ran across the quad, determined to trap her inside this bubble my mind had created. When I finally made it to her, I could barely breathe, let alone get her attention.

  Like it was destiny, she turned around, her beautiful exotically blue eyes connected with mine and the breath that wasn’t present in my lungs, came back. I inhaled her scent, never blinking, too scared she would disappear and exhaled. “Hi.” she said, her shyness immediately sent protective signals into me, putting me on alert.

  “Hello, beautiful. What’s your name?” I asked, extending my hand, needing to feel some part of her. She hesitated. When her bottom lip went between her teeth, it took everything in me not to pull it out and suck on it. I knew in that moment she would be embedded inside of me.

  “Phillipa.” she said, her cheeks the color of pink roses.

  “What a beautifully unusual name. Where are you from, love?” Her accent was heavy, alerting me to the fact that she hadn’t been here long.

  “Greece.”

  “Well welcome to Chicago. You should let me show you around this weekend.” I phrased it more as a comment, not really wanting to give her an option.

  “Ok.” she nodded, blowing my mind that she agreed so quickly.

  From that moment forward, we spent every second we could together. I took her everywhere I could, introducing her to new foods, shows, experiences, in and out of the bed. I found out she had no family. Her mother and father had died a month apart. She had no siblings, so she decided she needed something different and came here. I introduced her to my family and my mom immediately forgot I existed, and it became all about my girl, which made me proud. We would go on long walks and picnics and planned our lives out. We knew that we wanted to be married within two years. Both of us having chosen majors that would provide us with a more than comfortable living.

  She was going to school to be a corporate analyst and I, a corporate attorney. Though the truth is, I come from a wealthy family and my inheritance alone would keep us, our kids and their kids in luxury until they all took their last breath. However, I always knew I wanted to make my own way. The one thing I didn’t do was pop that vanilla flavored cherry between her legs. But it certainly didn’t stop me from licking and drinking it every chance I got. I wanted to wait for our wedding night to take the very thing, that would put the final seal on who she belonged to.

  For two years we dated. I proposed six months into year one and six months later, exactly two years, from the day I met her, we were married. We figured we would spend four years, as newlyweds enjoying just us, traveling, loving the spontaneity of no responsibility other than work and just...being. Year five of being married, we would start having children. We both wanted a big family and couldn’t wait. That is when the problems started.

  Year five, didn’t go as we planned but we had hope that by year six, everything would be back on track. When we hit year six, and no babies, she began to give up. We went to the doctors, and they said there was nothing wrong with either of us. Don’t worry they would say. It will happen. Sometimes things take time. Year seven, we tried IUI, three times. Nothing.

  Year eight, we tried two rounds of IVF. When that also yielded no results, I could see her eyes as they moved somewhere, I couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard I tried. Here we are at year ten and I feel as if I am back to being single. Pulling my suitcase out of the car, I slowly walk to the front door, knowing that when I go inside nothing is going to have changed.

  Walking into the door, I see that as usual the house is clean, like no one lives in it. There is no dinner on the stove, no tv on, no music... nothing. I slam my suitcase down, hoping but knowing it won’t provoke a reaction, and I sigh. What the hell can I do? The Cord I know wouldn’t accept defeat.

  I repeat those words in my mind, letting the wisdom from my best friend Dun sink in. I look at the home we built, putting together very strategically, every single detail, knowing we were going to fill it with love, laughter and a ton of kids. Grow old together and live a life you see in movies, knowing we found our soulmate. My heart aches for the young idealistic adults that believed as long as we followed a carefully laid path, everything would turn out as we planned. Now we know, life hardly does.

  “Fuck it.” I say with a renewed sense of vigor. I miss my damn wife and no matter what I have to do, I am going to fix this...fix us. I take the stairs two at a time, walking into the sunroom, knowing she is going to be sitting on the settee overlooking the garden. I don’t bother with the pomp and circumstance. Somebody needs to take the bull by the horn and apparently, it needs to be me. “Get up and get dressed, Philli.” I call her by the nickname I gave her our wedding night when she rode my cock like a Frey born Philly straight out the gate. God she was so beautiful. Her raven colored hair was longer back then. She rode me after I broke her in that night, her hair falling behind her waving back and forth as I sucked on her plump, pink nipples. She had the perfect tits. They were round, like melons, pink like ripe grapefruit. I plucked them, my fingers twisting and pulling them as she bounced on and off my cock, moaning and licking her lips as she chanted my name over and over. I saw the first wild stallion in her coming out. My cock was hard as a rock, trying to hold on, to give her a chance to feel for the first time. But fuck was it difficult. Especially when she started sinking herself lower, pulling me deeper into her, trying so hard to rub her clit against me, reaching for her peak.

  Knowing what she was searching for, I began to rub her clit and watched in amazement as she began to buck and mewl, her body going wild with pleasure a
s I held off as long as I could, making sure her first time was everything she thought it was going to be. When her mouth opened and she screamed, her naked pale body shaking and covered in the remnants of her hard work, I flipped her over and took what I needed from her. The end of the night, it was the first time I called her ‘Philli’ and every time after that, she would blush, and her chest would begin breathing so hard her nipples would tease me. So tonight, I take my Philli back, one way or another.

  She looks up at me, shock mirroring her face, since this is the first time in years, I have ever addressed her like that. “Thirty minutes baby and then I'm going to dress you myself and you know how I love to do that.” I wink at her, smirking, seeing the red tint her cheeks even now.

  “Cord what….”

  “Down to twenty-nine minutes baby.'' I tell her removing my suit right in front of her, showing her how serious I am. She must pick up on it, because the next thing I know, she is up out of her favorite spot, looking at me out the side of her eye. I walk in the ensuite while she is in the shower and change into a pair of khakis and a button up shirt. I remember she told me once she loved me in suites, but in casual clothes, she said, I looked relaxed and sexy. By the time I am dressed, I find myself pacing back and forth, my stomach-churning thinking of a backup plan in case she plays me. I hear the door open, and stumble back a bit. God, she gets more beautiful every day. She is standing in a pair of the jeans I bought her, because I loved the way they molded her pear-shaped waist and bottom. Her ankle boot stilettos give her a few more inches, making it easier for me to attack her luscious mouth.

  “You didn’t say where we were going so, I didn't know…” her voice was a bit different.

  “I know I didn’t baby. Uncertainty is the first step to growth. Is it not?” I ask as I hold my hand out for her to take. Tentatively, she reaches for it, before deciding against it and it takes everything in me to hold in the disappointment. Baby steps.

  Chapter Two

  Phillipa

  To say I am shocked is an understatement. For the last couple of years, this house has been a tomb. Devoid of life, noise, laughter, chaos... love. Do I still love my husband? Of course, but the second phase of the life we planned out has failed and I don’t know what to do. I have felt the tug, the need in the pit of my stomach. The call of my blood to his. The binding vows we took on our wedding day, compelling me to go to him and walk this journey with him, but somehow, it feels wrong. I haven’t been able to touch him let alone look at him lately.

  Well...there is that one time about three months ago when my best and I were out having drinks and I came home feeling a bit...needy if you will. I literally jumped him. With both of us so starved for affection and let’s be honest, for a plain old-fashioned fuck, I threw everything out the window except getting what I wanted and he more than delivered and then some. But in the light of the next day, it all came rushing back to me and regret set in, my stomach began churning and guilt washed over me, knowing that the night before changed nothing. I grabbed my clothes and walked out of the room. I felt glad that he wasn’t even in the house when I left the room. He came home that night, and we both acted as if the previous night didn’t happen.

  Having him walk in today, demanding I get dressed, the glint in his eyes, letting me know he wasn’t taking no for an answer, reminded me of the Cord I fell in love with. The one who possessed me in the quad all those years ago with a simple introduction and the touch of his hand. He could make quiver by simply breathing on me, his mouth inches from skin, promising something delicious to follow. Something decadent and filled passion. Hell, I’m shaking just thinking about it now. Walking into the room, I realize he didn’t tell me where we are going. I pull out the black jeans he bought me. The ones that keep his eyes trained on my ass, not realizing I am once again in a Cord fog. Pulling my cream-colored sheer shirt with the built-in tan camisole, I pair it with black hoops, a bangle and grab my tan clutch. Taking a deep breath, I walk out, my nerves frayed and in a knot. I am suddenly self-conscious. “You didn’t tell me where we were going so, I didn’t know…”

  ““I know I didn’t baby. Uncertainty is the first step to growth. Is it not?” he asks, holding his hand out for me to take it. I want to take it more than he knows but that kind of intimacy can lead to false hope and that is something neither of us need. So, I decline and walk ahead of him, my heart pounding, regret dripping from my very pores, begging me to fix it. The thing is... it has been so long; I don’t know how. As we drive, getting further out of the burbs, I look over and at him and note that his hands are gripping on the steering wheel as his teeth are grinding. That is usually a sign that he is trying to hold something back and I know he is trying to give me what I want. So why does it feel so wrong?

  The car comes to a stop about thirty minutes later and I feel myself gasp. Oh my gosh. “Cord...what are we doing here?” I ask him as we walk to the outdoor French restaurant where he proposed to me.

  “Remembering, baby.” he says as he grabs my hand, not giving me a chance to choose. “Reservation for McManus.”

  “Of course, Sir. Right this way.” I look at Cord, surprised that we are seated right away. Even with reservations, people have to usually wait.

  “Cord, how did you…?” I don’t get to finish my question before we are being seated in the VIP section. He turns around and winks at me, pulling out my chair.” My nipples tighten, as my breath picks up. Those fucking winks.

  “May I interest you in a bottle of Chardonnay?” the waitress asks, holding two glasses and a bottle.

  “Please.” He says motioning for him to pour it. As soon as she does and walks away, I ask him the question burning my tongue.

  “Why are we here, Cord?”

  “Do you remember the night I proposed to you, Philli? It was the perfect night. The stars were out, the weather was not to warn, not too cold. We stood right out there, on the patio, when I got on one knee, told you how much I love you and asked you to be my family. Do you remember that, Phillipa? Do you remember your words back to me?” looking into his eyes, the intensity, making my heartbeat. I can see that night like it was yesterday, the words resonating in my mind over and over, just like it does every day, except this time, don’t have somewhere to drown it out. “Baby, do you remember what you said to me?”

  “I do.” I say clearing my throat, the emotion overtaking me.

  “Tell me.” His voice is hard and demanding.

  “I said, ‘Come pain, loss, success and love, I will love you forever. Yes, Cord. I will marry you.” I hear the tears before I feel them. My words resonate with me, bringing to the forefront that I have broken my own promise to our forever. “Cord I…”

  “Are you ready to order?” I take a deep breath, thankful for the interruption before I say something I regret. We order our food and the silence is more prevalent then the words. He wanted to provoke something in me, and I hate to admit that it worked. Working on my second glass of champagne as I finish my food, I can see his eyes boring into me, his mind reaching mine, seducing me. Our hearts doing a dance they haven’t done in a while. God, I wish I could find my way back home. “The check, Sir?”

  “Yes. That would be fine.” he answers, waving his glass around as something in him, sparks, sending a shiver over me, knowing that something is coming. I put the champagne down, knowing I have had enough, lest I lose my head. He pays the check and ushers me to the car. The ride home is charged. I can practically smell the sexual tension. Feel it too. My pussy leaking as I sit beside him, remembering what it felt like to have him hold me, touch me, kiss me, inside of me. “We’re home, baby.”

  Looking around, I can’t help but note that I was so lost in my mind, I missed the whole ride. “Where did you run off too, Phillipa?” I know he is asking me where my head went. I have no intention of answering him. “I see.” he says, his hand running down my cheek. “Remember I told you, your face tells everything.” Crap. My back is against the door as he moves closer to me
. “Were you picturing my mouth on yours, my tongue chasing yours, calling it, daring it to come out and play with me?” he leans into me, our breath an inch apart. I must have had one too many glasses because it is me who moves that extra inch and tries to devour him. Dueling is what I would call it. We are battling back and forth for domination, even though we both know in the end, who will win. I love being taken over by him, feeling his weight on top of mine, protecting me from everything.

  His hands slide under my shirt, moving slowly, driving me crazy. His thumb moves back and forth through across my nipple and though I have on a bra, the lace makes it somehow more erotic. I can feel my mouth swell as he takes over and sucks and bites every inch of my lips. I find myself pulling him closer into me, my body craving the sensation crawling up every inch. He grabs my ass, lifting me until I feel his hardness rubbing up against my sensitive clit. “Cord.” I moan out, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. The movement of my neck gives him access and he takes advantage of it. He begins to lick up the side of my neck making me more anxious to feel everything.

  I am barely aware of us walking into the bedroom and him laying me on the bed. “Oh, my little Philli. Look at you writhe in our bed. Are you aching for me baby?” his voice more than an octave deeper, my whole body aware as he begins taking off his clothes. I nod my head. “You know that’s not enough. I need the words baby. Tell me.” Oh god. He is doing this on purpose. However, I need this like I need my next breath. The idea that he would walk away right now, is making my stomachache.

 

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