by Vera Quinn
“Gabby,” I growl. She slides her body down mine, stopping at my morning wood so her tongue can swirl around the tip of my dick. “Fuck!” I drop my head back onto the pillow as she takes me in her mouth.
Gabby sucks me in and out of her mouth from the tip to her stopping point. The intensity begins to increase as she hums against my length while massaging my balls with one hand. Not wanting to come, I find the strength to force her off my cock, and her lips make a popping sound as she releases me. “Ride me!” I command the moment her eyes find mine.
She quickly crawls up my body and is sinking down onto my cock before I can take another breath. We both groan from the pleasurable sensations. Dropping her hands to my chest to balance herself, she shifts between rotating her hips and moving up and down on my prick. Her breathing increases and everything feels more intense.
I sit up and wrap my arms around her to hold her tight as I thrust deeper inside her. Sweat forms on our skin, but we don’t care. Her hands grab my shoulders to anchor herself as I slam our bodies together. And when her nails dig into my back, I feel her tighten around my dick. Neither one of us can hold on any longer. Our speed increases, and we both give in to the ecstasy.
I press my lips between her breasts and fall back onto the bed, but instead of moving, she stays on top of me as we stare into each other’s eyes. Leaning down, she kisses me. Lifting herself off of me, we both grunt as she falls to the side.
We both lie here, catching our breath when I can feel the bed shaking beside me. I find Gabby laughing, her hand covering her mouth. Flipping onto my side, I demand, “What’s so funny?”
She attempts to compose herself and gulps deep breaths. “It’s like we’re having a sex marathon.” She begins to giggle again.
I join in on the laughter and agree with her. “Nothing wrong with that.” Rolling, I cover her body with mine. “Should we go again, or are you actually hungry for food now?”
“Food! Must have food,” she declares, trying to wiggle her way out from under me. When she’s free, I grumble, falling onto the mattress, and watch her walk into the bathroom. She glances over her shoulder and tells me, “I’ll cook.”
I bury my head in the pillow, thinking about how I should have made my move a long time ago. I love her.
As she’s cleaning up in the bathroom, I fall back to sleep, waiting for breakfast to be ready. It feels like only seconds have passed before I feel a warm hand rubbing my back. I crack open my eyes to find Gabby sitting beside me. “Mmm…Beautiful sight to wake up to,” I mumble, flopping onto my back and snaking my arm around her waist.
She leans in to kiss me and pulls back. “Breakfast is ready.”
“Great! I’m starving.”
She laughs as she escapes, and I smack her ass when she whirls around to leave.
“Hey!” she exclaims.
“Oh, you like it, and you know it.”
Her only response is to give me a naughty grin as she sashays out the room. I jump up from the bed, scanning the room for my sweats from last night and hear her holler from the other side of the house, “Are you coming?”
I couldn’t help myself. Being a smartass, I shout, “Always, when you’re around.” As I laugh, the sound of dishes clatter in the kitchen, and I’m suddenly nervous. Quickly spotting my sweats, I grab them from the floor and rush to the kitchen. “You okay?”
Gabby spins around to face me from where she is standing in front of the sink. “Holy shit!” She waves her hand up and down in the air. “Damien, did you forget something?”
Glancing down, I notice I’m completely naked. This only makes me want to show off a little more, and I strut to her in all my glory. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”
“Trust me, I enjoy the view. However, let’s eat with clothes on,” she states, rising on her tiptoes to give me a kiss.
I pull on my sweats and take a seat at the kitchen island. “What do you have planned for today?”
Gabby places a plate in front of me. “I have a patient I’m attending to. I have the morning shift.” I’ve never understood how she can do what she does.
Tapping my fork against the plate, I ask, “How do you do it?”
Watching her, I see her close her eyes and take a deep breath. When she opens them, she steps around the island and sits next to me. Once she is settled, she meets my gaze. Her hand caresses my arm as she explains in a soft tone, “Do you remember when Pops was in his last days? The emotional pain you were feeling?” I nod my head. “I hope my work gives the family members some comfort. Even though they are hurting, I’m there to help take the pain away from the loved one who is leaving them, so they can pass on comfortably.” She reaches for her coffee and takes a drink before continuing, “If I can give any of the family members a sense of peace as they watch their loved one cross over, then I have done my job. It gives me hope that I’ve helped start the healing process for the family when they pass. Even though it’s hard to move on after a loss, I like to think I not only gave the one they lost some comfort, but also, gave them comfort from the loss.”
Raising my hand to caress Gabby’s soft face, I tell her, “It does help, my love. It certainly does help.” I move my hand to the back of her head and pull her to me, placing a sweet, gentle peck to her lips. As I pull back, I whisper, “Your work is very important, and you have a heart of gold.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “Now, what are your plans?”
I take a moment to think. The choreography in my vision this morning was much stronger than what I’ve been practicing. “I’m considering spending the day at the studio. I’ve had a creative spark this morning. I want to give it a try. Working it out in movement rather than in my head.”
Gabby flashes that fabulous smile of hers. “That’s fantastic.” She claps her hands together in excitement. “When will I get to see it?”
“Haha. When I’m ready for you to.”
I scarf down the rest of my food because just the mere mention of the routine running through my head has made me anxious to get to the studio. Standing from the island, I place my plate in the dishwasher then help straighten the kitchen.
When I’m done, I approach Gabby from behind, wrapping my arms around her waist. With my mouth close to her ear, I softly speak, “I love you.”
Gabby leans back and tilts her head to look at me as he reaches over her shoulder to cup my cheek. “I love you, too.”
We quickly kiss, and I’m off to get ready for my day.
Chapter Six
Gabby
Three Months Later
Things are going great between Damien and me. He’s been spending a lot of time at the dance studio, either teaching his classes and getting ready for recital or practicing some secretive routine he hasn’t allowed anyone to see.
As for me, I’m here with another patient who needs my help. When Damien asked me about why I had chosen this path in life, I told him the truth; however, he doesn’t know that Pops was the hardest case for me work. Right after Pops crossed over, I stayed as long as I could with Damien, then I went to my car and cried. That day, I cried hard and a lot. I wanted to hit everything in sight.
Knowing I was going to have to move forward, I spent the next couple of days at my apartment locked away to rid myself of the emotional pain. And then it was time to pull myself together. For Damien, though, I figured it was best to give him time.
Days turned to weeks then months. The day I stopped by the studio, I had decided to make sure he was in a good headspace, and if he wasn’t, then it was time to drag him out of the emotional hole he had dug for himself. It worked well, but when he found the letter from Pops, it made all the difference in the world.
That had been the turning point for us. Now, we’re connected emotionally and physically. Oh, the sex is off the chain. Never underestimate a dancer’s moves. “Gabby.” I hear my name being called. Glancing up, I see my coworker, Rusty.
“Yeah?” I respond.
“I don
’t know where you went, but your phone is buzzing like crazy,” he informs me.
“Damn. Thanks.” I swipe the screen and find missed calls and texts from Damien. He wants me to come to the studio after work. I respond, letting him know I will be there and end the message with I love you. He messages quickly with I love you, too. I truly believe Pops was the one who finally brought us together.
Finishing my paperwork for the day, I gather my things. “Okay, I’m out of here,” I announce to Rusty.
“You’re heading out to see that man of yours,” he replies, grinning.
“You bet I am.”
I park at the front of the studio. Peering through the windows of the classroom he normally uses, I see him teaching his class. That man of mine is uber talented, and the ladies adore him.
Stepping out of the car, I continue to watch, and he busts me. With a slight smile and wave, he motions me to come inside. He knows I’m not one to interrupt him. Strolling into the building, the girls come flying out of the door to the room, and I wait until they’re all out before entering.
“Hey, sexy,” I greet him, my eyes roaming over his body. “Is class over, or am I too early?”
“Give me five minutes. We’re going to run the routine once more, then we’re done for the day,” he explains as I approach him. Damien is too tempting at times. His muscular body and rhythmic talents make me quiver at the sight of him. He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. “I’ve missed you. Now, kiss me.”
Who am I to deny the man? He meets me halfway, so I don’t have to raise up on my toes. Our lips meet, and we quickly part when we hear the girls come back inside. Tapping his chest, I tell him, “You’re so sweaty.”
He looks up to see the girls then leans down close to my ear, making sure the girls don’t hear him. “You like it when I’m sweaty.”
I gasp and lean back to stare into his eyes. “Absolutely.” I leave the room so they can finish the rehearsal. Glancing over my shoulder, I mention, “I’ll be waiting out here.” I step out of the room and take a seat in the waiting area.
Several minutes have passed, and the music has stopped. The girls come out with their bags and water bottles. Damien follows them to the door and calls, “Hey, baby.” He’s leaning against the door and beckons me with his finger.
What kind of mischievousness is he planning? I stand and take his hand, following him into the classroom. In the middle of the room sits a chair and nothing else.
“A prop?” I inquire. He doesn’t usually use them.
“Yep, and you’re going to sit there.”
Well, okay then.
Taking the seat, I adjust myself, trying to get as comfortable as I possibly can. I’m a bit nervous, but I trust him. Breathing calmly, my eyes follow Damien as he shuffles over to the music player then waltzes back over to me.
“Enjoy the show.” He smirks and positions himself.
The song begins, and as soon as I recognize it, I know this is the piece Damien has been working on. A dedication dance to his father. Watching his fluid movements from one spot to the next, I am lost. Damien is so light on his feet when he lands from a turn or a leap, you can barely hear it. I’m in awe of his ability to express emotion through movement.
Tears sting my eyes as the pain from the last six months—and longer—is released. It’s like he’s letting Pops know that he is okay. Damien does a gorgeous chaîné landing in a plié with his head hung down. My first instinct is to go to him, but the music changes and I figure I better stay put.
Close Your Eyes by Michael Bublé comes out of the speakers, filling the room with its beautiful lyrics. Damien moves to the music, every step matching the beat of the song.
As I listen to the lyrics and watch him, my breathing picks up. I’ve put it all together. The first dance was dedicated to Pops, and now, he has dedicated the second to me. The damn tears are back. He’s devoting himself to me, and I will never want anyone else in my life. We were meant to be together.
Toward the end of the song, the music becomes soft. The door to the studio opens, and the girls from his class enter, and each of them performs turns one at a time with roses in their hands. They create a semi-circle around the chair.
Damien lands in front of me at the end of the song, placing his head in my lap. His body is shaking. I grasp his head softly and bring his face up so our eyes can meet. We both have tears running down our faces.
His voice is tender when he speaks, “Gabby.” My name sounds choked.
“Yes?” I whimper.
“Live with me. Laugh with me.” Wiping tears away, he stands, extending his hand to me. “Dance with me.” There’s nothing more to be said. I love this man, and I’ll be with him for as long as life will allow us to be together.
Bringing my lips to his, we softly kiss. A chorus of awws erupt throughout the room, causing both of us to smile at the sound, but our mouths do not fully disconnect. However, we laugh when the girls lay the roses down beside us and exit one by one.
Too many times, we take life for granted. On this day, and from now on, Damien and I will be living our lives to the fullest, appreciating each and every moment we have together. We’re never promised tomorrow, so why not live for the day?
The End
Cupcakes, Kisses & Miracles
Darlene Tallman
Acknowledgments
Thank you, Martha Lanham, for starting the book signing event, Authors and Dancers Against Cancer. You’ve got an awesome group of people helping you pull off an event that is fantastic for authors and readers alike! I’d also like to acknowledge the beautiful dancers who were there last year performing in a recital that left me teary eyed. I can’t think of a more worthwhile cause to support!
Dedication
I think it’s fair to say that every family has been impacted by cancer to some extent. I lost two aunts (one biological, one via marriage) to this heinous disease. One of my sweet PAs recently dealt with it and the debilitating effects it causes as she took care of her beloved grandfather in his last days. Suffice it to say, this story is dedicated to everyone who has been touched by cancer, whether it’s a family member or yourself. Keep fighting as long as you draw breath.
Author’s Note
Hey y’all! Because there’s no way to ‘tell’ a story in only 13,000 words, unless you’re doing a novella about an existing set of characters, this story is an excerpt of one that will eventually be fully fleshed out and finished. I’ll do my best to ‘end’ it in a good spot so you can wonder what happens next but not be left hanging precariously until my schedule aligns with the stars and I can get it finished up!
Darlene
Prologue
Micah
Two Years Ago
Cancer.
One word that has devastating emotions running through my head. What will Griffin think? How will he react? I tune back into the conversation my doctor is having with me to hear her say, “We need to get your surgery scheduled immediately. I’m relatively sure that we’ve caught it early enough, but after you heal from surgery, I want you to go through chemotherapy as well.”
“Um, okay.” What the hell else can I say? No? I kind of want to live so not having surgery is not an option for me. I take a deep breath and ask, “How soon do you think?”
“I’ll have my nurse check the schedule. Go home and tell your husband, Micah. You’re going to need his support.”
It takes a month to get everything scheduled. Griffin has been strangely silent ever since I told him and I initially thought I’d have to have my best friend, Caydence, bring me to the hospital. At the last minute, he brought me and stayed until I was out of recovery and back in a room. Since then, I haven’t seen him. Seems he had a ‘very important business trip’ that he couldn’t get rescheduled. My mom is here; she flew in to help me when I get home since Griffin’s trip will last at least three weeks. Somehow, I think he could have switched things around, but he’s been weird ever since my diagnosis; barel
y touching me and forget sex! Not that we’ve been that active these past six months, ever since shit started going sideways with my health. Still, the vows we made ten months ago said ‘for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health’ so I don’t get what his problem is now.
“Have you heard from Griffin today?” Mom asks, breaking into my morose thoughts.
“Nope. Got a text yesterday telling me he hoped I was feeling okay but nothing today.” I glance at my phone and see it’s later than I thought it was. With Mom staying in my room, and of course, the wicked pain medication, my sense of time is off big time! I doubt I’ll hear from him today and as much as that should hurt, as weird as he’s been since all of this shit started, I kind of feel relief.
“Well, he’s probably busy,” Mom says.
“I’m his wife, Mom,” I reply. “I would think that the fact I had surgery yesterday to hopefully remove my cancerous parts would be sufficient to put me ahead of whatever the hell he’s got going on at work.” I don’t mean to be nasty, but Mom has always liked Griffin. Not that I don’t love my husband; we’ve been together nearly two years now, including our eleven months of being a newly wedded couple.
She sighs and reaches over to pat my shoulder. “Honey, men tend to react differently than women when this kind of thing happens.”
“You mean, when the woman he professes to love gets cancer?” I must be channeling Caydence because she’s a lot more brash than I am. She sharpens me while I take the edge off of her.
“I’m sorry, Micah.”
