Giving in to the desire to see him, she turned and pushed him back against the bathroom door before rising on her toes as she gripped his shoulder. He settled his hands on her hips as she looked up into his eyes. “You are one beautiful man, Graham Walker,” she said softly as she raised a hand to stroke his face as she spoke from her heart.
It was a face she could stare at for the rest of her life.
Wake up to. Kiss upon. Make smile. Fill with pleasure.
Fight to have in her life.
Fight for him.
She shook away the selfish thought and focused on her pleasure—the kind of satisfaction only Graham could provide. A blend of electric passion and peace that left her shaken. With a look down at his dick hard against the thick towel, she loosened the cotton cloth from around his waist and freed his inches to take in her hand. Grip. Stroke. Tease the tip. Feel the pulse of its vein against her palm. Forever.
Fight for him.
Swiftly, he lowered their bodies to the floor inside the open doorway. She gave in to her emotions and let her tears silently race from under her lids as she used her legs and arms to cling to him.
Fight.
Graham kissed away her tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asked against her ear.
Him setting aside his pleasure to check on hers evoked such despair at the thought of not having his love—his all—in her life. Looking up into his eyes, with more tears filling her own, she was overcome, and the stirrings of her soul could not be denied.
Fight for him. Like I didn’t before on that rooftop five years ago.
“We have to make this work. We have to, Graham. We have to figure it out,” she whispered to him fervently. “We have to try like we didn’t try before—”
Graham’s body went stiff and the tip of his dick throbbed against her core like a pounding heartbeat. His eyes searched hers.
She found hope there inside his pause. His silence emboldened her.
“I love you with a deepness that I can’t explain, and I want to give it to you just as deeply and just as strongly, Graham,” she implored. “We can have this for the rest of our lives together. We can promise it. We forgive the past. We can fight for a future.”
Graham closed his eyes and lowered his head to rest on the floor beside hers as he took deep breaths.
Fight for us, Graham.
He rose quickly and stepped over her to stand in the hall. His erection made a shadow against the floor.
Jaime sat up and turned her body to face him as she looked up at the man she loved. “Tell me you don’t love me,” she said, feeling her face shift with her conviction. “Tell me you didn’t want me to be the mother of your child. Tell me you can walk away and never see me again. I dare you to tell me any of that.”
Graham slid his body down the wall into a squatting position as he eyed her fiercely, his face twisted with his battle to forgive and forget or continue his own fight to let everything they meant to each other fade.
She leaned her head to the side against the door. His eyes shifted to take in the move.
“What is it with us and doors?” he asked.
“Symbolic of closure?” she asked with the hint of a smile.
They stared at one another before their eyes searched the other’s face. “Seems like we say goodbye a lot over the years,” he said.
We don’t have to. Not anymore.
Fight for it, Graham.
“No, this time it’s au revoir, remember?” she said.
Again, he stared at her and she refused to lower her eyes or shield the love she had for him from its depths.
“I promised myself I would not have sex again unless it was with a woman I was in a relationship with,” he said.
I want your love not just your sex.
“Graham, I choose you,” she said. “You are the man I choose to spend the rest of my life loving through it all. I choose you to love me in a way no other man ever could or ever would. I choose to forgive our past and focus on who we are today. I choose to prove to you that I will never betray you or make you feel less than ever again. I choose to support your journey to Paris and travel there to visit you to support you as you face this immense challenge in your career. I choose to one day bear your child. I choose to be there in your life as we age, and your dreads grow silver with every passing year. I choose you, Graham Walker.”
Again, he looked down the length of the hall from his squatting position with his erection now eased.
Fight.
“Graham, don’t let me and what I did, or our past, fuck this up,” she implored with no shame at her pleadings as she watched him lower his muscled legs to stretch out before him.
“I broke that promise in Grenada, Jaime,” he continued, glancing away down the long length of her hallway before looking back at her with those eyes she loved.
Feeling frightened at his next words, she looked away from him and down at the floor.
“I won’t break it again,” he said.
She nodded, understanding his conviction even as her disappointment stung like crazy.
At the feel of his hands wrapping around her ankles, her eyes widened. And when he tugged to yank her toward him across the smooth polished hardwood floors she gasped.
“So, it’s a good thing you’re my woman,” he said, reaching to grab her waist and lift her onto his lap. “Right?”
This is worth fighting for.
She released a breath filled with her relief and happiness. “Right,” she said softly.
Graham raised his hands to her back to bring her forward. “My heart, my mind, and my soul choose you,” he spoke against her mouth before kissing her. Deeply.
Jaime was thrilled by the strokes of his tongue against her own as she gripped his strong arms as she felt his dick harden and snake upward against her stomach. The smooth hairs of his chest teased her nipples to hardness, and she shifted forward on his lap to press her clit against the hard base of his dick.
“Fuck me,” she demanded softly, wanting to feel the inches inside of her. Deeply.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and turned their bodies so that he was above her. She spread her legs and raised her head to kiss him as he arched his hips and entered with a hard thrust. With a gasp against his mouth, she closed her eyes and released a shuddering moan at the hard feel of him filling her. Desperately. Her heart was as full of love for him as her pussy was brimming with his dick.
His thrust was deep and hard as she dug her fingers into his buttocks, pushing him deeper inside her as he buried his face against her neck and suckled her racing pulse. Each forward motion of his hips ended with a clench of his cheeks and a grunt that seemed to vibrate against his chest.
“Yes!” she gasped with each deep dive of his dick inside of her as he raised and lowered his hips as if driven by madness.
Each thrust propelled their bodies across the floor as he fucked her down the hallway.
She enjoyed the ride. The feel of his hardness. The sweat of his body. The slam of his balls against her. The heat of the precum he released inside, slickening his thrusts.
And when their heads bumped against the wall, having left the original spot of their sex behind them, he continued his wicked onslaught. He slid his hands beneath her bottom and raised her hips as he quickened his pace and rode them both to a thunderous climax, their rough cries mingling in the heated air above them and echoing against the halls.
The Postlude
Eighteen months later
Jaime looked to Aria and then Renee where they all stood outside the ornate gates of the Richmond Hills subdivision. She wondered what was in their minds as they stood there in silence and eyed the gate, stone wall, and security booth used to keep them secured from the rest of the town. In truth, she was joyful that this would be her last time being anywhere near it. For her, the place meant nothing but sadness and destruction.
Those things were no longer a part of her life.
Thank God.
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First, Aria and Kingston sold their Richmond Hills home for a new one in the Vailsburg section of Newark a few months back. Today, Renee had just completed the loading of a moving truck for her move to a two-bedroom condo closer to her work in New York.
Our days at Richmond Hill were over.
“It’s time,” Renee finally said with a nod, still tanned from her summer in Grenada.
Aria nodded in agreement. “Farewell, Richmond Hill,” she said, kissing two fingers before throwing up a deuce.
Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.
Jaime smiled as she pulled her phone from the back pocket of the jeans she wore to help her friend pack. A Google alert. Outside of herself, there were only two people she checked on.
She smiled a bit as she read the wedding announcement. Over the last six months, she had been relieved to see that Luc’s wild ways documented via social media had been replaced by posts of him with just one woman—his artist, Zhuri, whose Grammy-winning debut album had gone platinum. She worried he would never recover and had only kept up with him with the hope he would outgrow his heartbreak. He deserves love. Good for them.
She deleted the Google alert on Luc, finally feeling free to do so.
“Jaime, your ride is here,” Aria said.
She tucked her phone back in her pocket as she turned to see Graham’s pickup truck. He lowered the window to wave at them. Renee and Aria did the same while she gave him a loving smile, amazed at the last year and a half they spent together. Not even the distance between New York and Paris had defeated their love. FaceTime and long weekend visits had been the cure for what could have been a disaster. It is anything but that.
“I’m heading out. Thank you both so much for your help,” Renee said, already moving toward where her and Aria’s vehicles were parked, where the stone line curved leading into the subdivision. “Let’s do lunch next week. I’m dying for some seafood.”
“Cool with me,” Aria said, also headed to her SUV.
Jaime gave the gate to Richmond Hills one final look before crossing the distance to the truck. Graham had already left the driver’s seat and came around the hood to open the door for her. Like always, he looked sexy as fuck without even trying, leading her to use the height of the chrome running board to lick at his mouth as she pressed her hands to his face.
“Hello, Mr. Walker,” she said against his lips in between kisses.
“At your pleasure, Mrs. Walker,” he returned with a smile.
She grunted in pleasure at the sound of it as she dipped the tips of her thumbs into his dimples. After seven months since their intimate wedding at the nineteenth century Chapelle Expiatoire in Paris, she was still getting used to being Mrs. Graham Pine-Walker. The romantic ceremony, attended by just a dozen close friends and family, had been followed by them all taking a sightseeing tour of the historical landmarks of the city aboard a private cruise down the Seine with delicious food and dancing to a live band long into the night.
Graham dipped his head to press a kiss to her neck. “You’re sweaty,” he said.
She nodded. “I worked very hard and deserve a treat,” she said.
Graham raised his head to look down at his wife. “Like?”
“The works,” she said without hesitation.
“But that means I get treated as well,” he reminded her.
“Exactly,” she said. Softly.
His eyes darkened with his desire and mimicked her own. “Let’s go,” he said, watching her ease onto the passenger seat before closing the door.
At the familiar soft coos and bubbly giggles, Jaime whirled on her seat and smiled at the chubby brown face of their eight-month-old son, Graham Walker, Jr., strapped securely in his car seat. He extended his arms to reach for her with his hands opening and closing into fists as if he wished he could grab her.
She smiled and her eyes reflected the love she had for him. Their son with Graham’s eyes and dimpled smile. At times she thought of Jaymie. Wished he too had survived to exist in the world. But she was still learning to be content that everything happened just as God intended it to be.
“Hello, G-baby,” she said, using her nickname for him.
He released a bubble and then giggled when it burst.
At the start of the engine, she realized Graham had long since climbed into the driver’s seat. “I thought we were picking him up from my parents’ together,” she said, turning forward to secure her seat belt. “But this is better.”
Graham smiled. “Good, let’s get home, put him down for a nap and then we can shower and—”
“Treat each other?” she finished, reaching to massage his dick to hardness. “My pleasure.”
Her Pleasure Page 25
