by JD Hawkins
The mother of my child… My wife… The terms sit in my mind comfortably. Words and ideas that seemed alien now taking root in me, promising to grow even larger.
She ends her call, puts the phone on the counter, and then turns to look at me, biting her lip as if not sure what to do next. I open my arms and invite her to join me and she steps around the couch to lie with her back against my chest, her head against my chin.
For minutes we say nothing. My hand reaches for her stomach and strokes gently, as if I might already feel something. Her fingers trail as soft as wind over my forearms. That peace I get from her mere presence spreading inside of me. We tease fingers together, lightly stroking palms, interlocking and breaking apart. A slow dance of hands that starts to stir a low flame.
After minutes of perfect, glorious silence, I say, “I hope it has your red hair.”
“Hmm,” she hums with amusement. I feel her vibrate against me as she does. “I hope it has your green eyes.”
“Your lips…”
“Your nose…”
“Your brains…”
“Your humor…”
“Your…driving ability.”
She laughs and I feel it in my chest again.
“Your taste in shirts.”
“…My love for vanilla.”
She giggles as she turns in my arms to settle herself on top of me, forearms on my chest, legs intertwining with mine. Her eyes flick about my face, searching my expression.
“And what if it has none of that?” she says sarcastically.
I shrug.
“That’s okay. It’ll have us.”
I can feel her breath and her heart beat against my own. The darkness of her eyes an abyss I want to lose myself in. Lips pouted and red with the friction between us. She leans down, hair brushing my face like a cool wind, nose nuzzling my cheek. I close my eyes and lose myself to the bliss of feeling her weight on me. My hand searching the lines of her back as she twists slowly and softly over me. Spine curving under my fingers, sides going soft in my palm, round ass pushing back into my grip. Both of us twisting into each other, grinding against each other, tying a knot we can’t break.
Her mouth searches for mine and I tease her by turning away, pressing my lips to her jaw. Nuzzling and shoving like animals playfighting. A slow, patient game. I search for her lips with mine and she pulls away, fingers at my mouth that I suck on and bite.
The last time she teased it was agony. It drove me wild with pent-up lust, but this time the tease is as good as the giving—now that she’s mine, now that we’ve got forever. Skin against skin, breath against breath. We move and twist until our lips are close, parted, short breaths pushing and pulling against sensitive lips, but holding back, both of us wanting to prolong every second for as long as we can. Noses touching as we dip and dive at each other, a dance of hot mouths. Desire growing in us, filling us and forcing us to move our bodies, turning our blood warm and amplifying our senses until every rustle of clothing, every slow hiss of sharply taken breath, sounds like it’s filling the room.
She sucks my bottom lip and I push back but she turns away to press her teeth into my jaw. I bite her earlobe in return and she purrs against my throat. My hands are under her shirt now, squeezing under her jeans to touch her ass, needing to feel the charge of her skin against me. She aligns her face with mine and pushes her tongue through her lips, so I meet it with mine, rolling it around hers. Wet and warm, winding and wicked. Her breasts swelling against me, nipples so hard I can feel them when she breathes in, her sex grinding against my thigh, rolling and pressing herself as she straddles it.
Tasting tongues isn’t enough, too good to not want more, and soon it feels like we may never stop, that we could never stop. No longer two lovers, two people, but pure sensation, borne from the hot electricity of skin against skin, mouth against mouth. Waves of heat rising as we grasp and tighten against each other before falling back into the sweet daze of soft affection. Again and again, until the tides get higher, sharper, faster. Until lips and skin are not enough, until a frustration we can’t go deeper forces us to wrestle each other’s clothes away. Mia at the buttons of my shirt, me pulling her top up over her head. The brief, clumsy moment where we have to part to pull our pants off almost unbearable, our naked bodies clashing and grasping and tying into one another the moment we’ve tossed them to the floor.
On top of me, she scratches lines into my chest, pushing away even as I pull her body into me, crushing her soft torso against mine and taking mouthfuls of her shoulder, her neck, her breasts in my mouth. Hungry and senseless I smack a palm against her ass and pull her hair back to suck her neck. Pouted lips driving me wild, the sound of her panting pushing me beyond self-control. Only when she reaches between her thighs and takes my cock in her hand do I stop, stiffening at the tender touch of her fingertips, forced to watch her perfect body rise above me as she strokes shocks of pleasure into my cock, then slowly guides it inside her.
Her pussy squeezes over the head of my cock and my whole body tenses, breath inhaled and held, waiting for the release of being deeper inside her, of piercing her warmth. But she doesn’t give it to me just yet. Instead she rolls her pussy over the head, back and forth, tight lips clasping with a wet friction. A tease bigger than any other.
“God, you feel good,” I tell her.
I open my eyes to see her face fixed in an expression of pained pleasure. Her body arching as her hips swing over my cock, guided by nothing but the sensation. I reach up, a hand around her throat, and she tilts her head to bite and lick at my wrist. I let my palm drop to her breast to pull and pinch at her swollen nipple, breath shuddering out of me, strength leaving me, as she continues to work my cock.
I can’t take it any longer. A lust so intense it could almost be anger. I grab her waist and pull her down onto my cock, burying myself in her pussy, filling her with me. Her mouth opening in a breathless sigh, hips winding as if she can’t control them, her head thrown back, a hand to her flipped hair. She pulls her hair band away and tosses it, red hair falling down around her face, and I almost lose control right then, her beauty pushing me as hard as her pussy now.
She rides me in long, winding twirls of her hips, gasping at the ceiling. I feel the judder of her body every time she presses my cock into the good spots, into the little knots of pressure that make her gush a little more. I’m hard enough to feel every single breath, every long moan and tight squeal emanating from her diaphragm. I caress the tensing muscles along her slender thighs, the tight skin of her waist, her swelling, bouncing breasts that quiver and shake and hypnotize me, hard pink nipples like bullseyes.
“Yes, Colin, yes,” she moans, grinding faster and harder, and I know she’s close.
She’s magnificent. She’s perfect. She’s mine. Nothing else matters but her. Nothing but the sight of her experiencing orgasmic ecstasy. Nothing before, nothing after. This vision burned into my brain now, this feeling and this sound and this climax. And nothing can stop it. Not even me.
She leans backwards, one hand still in her hair, the other on my leg to steady herself as she finally convulses. Moaning, gasping for breath as she comes. Pussy clasping in a chaotic rhythm of release. Heat surging from me as she gushes down the length of my shaft, pressing her hips down on me, pressing me deep inside of her to grasp every last drop of this.
I sit up to wrap my arm around her waist, to lick the sweat from between her breasts as she wails a high-pitched song. The last of her breath leaving her, until she brings her eyes back down to mine and gasps as if coming up for air, as if we drowned together.
Our foreheads press, noses brushing, breath mingling once again, except this time slowing together. She draws tender fingers across my jaw and I let my hand rest on her ass.
“That felt like a first time,” she whispers as her finger traces my lip.
“Maybe it kinda was,” I reply, drawing my hand up and down her back.
“How so?” She smiles.
“The first time we knew it wouldn’t be the last.”
Epilogue
Mia
A lot can happen in two months. Especially when you found out you were pregnant, got engaged, and discovered that your soon-to-be husband had just quit his job to start his own business all on the same day.
I didn’t go back to work immediately after it happened. Maybe that’s the biggest indication that I’ve changed. That I’d suddenly not turn up to a job I’ve poured all of my life and focus into for so long.
At first I called out and took my sick days (of which there were many), and then it just sort of lasted longer. Paula and Jackie called to check on me, and when I said I just had a lot going on, they didn’t push. It’s as if everyone just gave me the benefit of the doubt. As if they couldn’t even imagine me taking advantage. I guess seven years of never even coming in late and barely taking days off counts for something. And hey, maybe I am that valuable of an employee. Mainly, though, I think it’s what happened with Saskia…
Colin didn’t go back in either, despite giving two weeks’ notice. We ended up spending a week in bed, talking as if making up for lost time—or perhaps just convincing ourselves we really were serious. The only time I had my doubts was when I realized the full extent of his Real Housewives addiction…
“You okay?” Colin says as soon as he parks the car.
“Yes,” I say with a little humored exasperation. “I’m just sitting in a car, Colin.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he says with a smile, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against my belly and kiss it. Something he does at every opportunity now. I ruffle his hair a little, and as always remind myself to bug him about getting a haircut.
“You’ve already got a little bump going,” he says.
“I’m not sure if that’s the baby or all the curry I keep eating.”
“Kid’s gonna come out asking for chili sauce with its milk.”
He steps out onto the parking lot and I follow him, rounding the car and moving near him so he can put his arm around me.
“The Three Flamingos,” Colin says as we start to walk in the midday sun. “You’d think they’d have found another place for after-meeting drinks by now.”
“Give them a few more months,” I say, “then they’ll have caused so much trouble they won’t even be allowed there anymore.”
Colin laughs but slows down as we near the entrance, pulling off his sunglasses and turning to look at me. “Are you sure you’re okay? Meeting up with everyone like this?”
“Of course!” I say, playfully slapping his chest to remind him that he’s doing it again. “I miss them. And they’re expecting us now anyway.”
Colin looks at the entrance, then off to the side, and smiles to himself.
“You know, it’s funny to think…this is the spot where you seduced me.”
“Excuse me?” I say incredulously.
Colin lifts his arm and points. “Right over there.”
“I did not seduce you!”
Colin looks wistfully at the empty space and shakes his head.
“I never stood a chance…”
I slap his shoulder again.
“As far as I recall,” I say, “it was you who pulled the whole ‘giving a young lady your jacket’ routine.”
“Ah come on, you know I couldn’t do anything else with your whole ‘I’m so cold’ routine,” he says, clutching his biceps and pretending to shiver.
“I was cold!”
“You were clever.”
I shake my head. “And the walking me home part?”
“You invited me in.”
“You took your shirt off.”
“Only because you asked me to,” he points out.
“You were the one with a busted shoulder!”
“And you ran your fingers up and down my body like you were playing a guitar.”
I take a step back as if to see him with new eyes, twisting my lips into a smile. After a few seconds, I ask, “Were you even really injured that night?”
He steps toward me, arm around my shoulders, and pulls me in for a kiss I can’t resist.
“Luckily you have the rest of our lives to get the answer out of me.”
I look at him in disbelief until he pats my ass, urging me in to the bar.
There’s hardly anyone there at this time of day, but the group still sees us before we see them. They shout so loud they almost make me jump.
“Hey! Over here!”
“The happy couple!”
“Wait—they weren’t joking?”
“Get your asses over here!”
It isn’t the full set, but still enough to fill two booths. We move toward the one where Bob, Jackie, Beatrice, and Sean are sharing a pitcher of beer and eventually get to sit down after everyone’s given me a hug and inspected my bump and my ring. In fact it’s only when Jackie starts shooing everyone away that I get the chance to sit.
“All right, all right, don’t crowd the poor girl,” she says, moving Deanna away to clear a path to the booth for me. “Get your own baby if you’re so interested.”
I slide in next to Bob with Colin on my other side, Jackie sitting on the end next to him. Sean’s already pouring a beer for Colin and Jackie kindly puts a cranberry juice in front of me.
“So come on,” Bob says suddenly, leaning over the table, “tell us what happened.”
Colin gulps some beer down and then shrugs. “What do you already know?”
“All we know,” Beatrice says, “is that the two of you stopped showing up to work, and then got married and had a baby.”
“Not married,” I say. “Just engaged. And having the baby’s going to take a bit longer.”
Colin leans over the table and adds, “We’re thinking the wedding might be next year even. What with everything else we’ve got to sort out.”
“A whole year?!” Jackie exclaims as if offended. “And here I am already shopping for shoes.”
“Give them a chance!” Sean says. “He only proposed a month after they met!”
Everyone laughs, the excitement of our arrival already settling into a nice vibe. Bob leans over his beer and puts on his serious face, the one he uses when he’s trying to look wise and fatherly.
“Back in my day, that’s how you did it,” he says, looking around at everyone to make sure we’re listening. “None of this ‘seven year boyfriend and girlfriend,’ cold feet, ‘moving in is a big decision,’ ‘not sure how I really feel,’ ‘we need to be financially secure’ nonsense. No! In my day you found a nice girl and you said, ‘Bang! You’ll do for me!’ And then you stuck by that decision for the rest of your life. Through thick and thin!”
“Through fat and bald in your case, Bob,” Jackie says, and I try to hide my laugh though I’m the only one.
“Hey!” Bob says, shouting over the guffaws. He points at Colin but looks at me. “If you think even Colin’s going to look like an underwear model forever then you’re sadly mistaken. That’s what I’m talking about.”
I hook my arm around his and clench it close to me.
“He’s never been fitter,” I say proudly.
“Little chance of me putting weight on soon,” Colin says, wiping beer from his mouth, “I’ve been breaking walls and moving bricks all month trying to get the new office ready.”
I say, “I keep telling him to just hire a contractor, but he’ll take advantage of any opportunity to take his shirt off.”
“So you’re really gonna open your own practice?” Sean says, looking almost with admiration at Colin. “Flying totally solo?”
“I’m going to try my damnedest, yeah. Honestly, the premises are the easy part. The paperwork is what’s killing me—or would, without Mia helping me out.”
As easygoing and pleasant as things were a moment ago, there’s a slight sense of nervous tension between everyone now, the quietness between us amplifying it, everyone pretending to concentrate on their drinks instead. A sudden laugh rises up from the ot
her booth, and it only deepens the awkwardness at ours.
It’s Beatrice who finally breaks it, leaning toward me a little and saying, “Does that mean that you’re leaving too, Mia? You’re going private with Colin?”
I look up at Colin, then turn to the others.
“Well…” I say, and I can almost see everyone leaning in a little as they anticipate my answer. “If it’s not an issue… I actually want to come back to the hospital.”
I had more to say, but nobody seems to care. There’s a cheer like we just saw our team win go up around the table, beer sloshing as glasses are raised and smashed together. I even feel compelled to raise my juice and let Jackie clink it as she grabs me in a headlock and presses the side of her head against mine affectionately.
It’s not the reaction I expected—not when I effectively left everyone in the lurch so suddenly—and the absolute joy they seem to feel at the idea of me going back to work with them makes me suddenly feel emotional. I try to disguise myself wiping my eye on my shoulder, and though I tell myself it’s probably just hormones, the reality is that I’m glad they seem to love me as much as I love them.
“Yes!” Jackie says, slapping the table so hard she makes me jump. “I told you all she wouldn’t betray us—no offense, Colin. God! What a relief. Now we can have a little fun. I’m going to get myself something nicer than this disgusting beer.”
“Aren’t you going back on shift later today, Jackie?” Bob says.
“As the acting administrator and my oldest colleague,” she says sarcastically to Bob, “I’m sure you’re well aware it takes more than a little tequila to keep me from doing my job. Something nicer than a juice for our returning heroine as well. What do you fancy, Doctor Taylor? They’ve got non-alcoholic cocktails, smoothies, milkshakes—”
“Vanilla,” I answer quickly, turning to wink at Colin.
“Coming right up,” Jackie says, slapping the table once again as she gets up to leave.
“Fuck, that’s a relief,” Sean says.
