by KL Donn
“I understand, ma’am. Good-bye.” They wave to Dane before walking away.
“Mommy. I want to go home now.”
“Me too, Dane. Me too.” I grab our bag and put our towels back inside of it. “Let’s go.”
15
Ian
Our plane lands just before 10:00 PM, and I order a Lyft to take me home to Arlington Heights. We won 5-1 against FC Cincinnati. I try to call Todd, but he doesn’t answer. He left me a cryptic text earlier that there was trouble at my house, but he didn’t tell me what happened. I text Neenah to make sure she’s all right, but she hasn’t responded either. She might be sleeping already. I hope they’re okay.
When we pass her place, her car is in the driveway, but she hasn’t messaged me.
I have the driver drop me off near the back alley. All of the lights are off in Neenah’s house, so I slip into my back gate, sad that I missed her. I actually did miss her. It’s the first time I’ve ever experienced this. I must have read through her texts twenty times on the flight home.
I climb the stairs and enter my workout room, leaving the lights off to peek into her bedroom. Nothing. I can’t see her. I press my body against the floor-to-ceiling glass for a better view, but it’s too dark. The urge to watch her sleeping sweeps through me like a raging forest fire.
My dick hardens in my pants just thinking about her. I want her so fucking bad. If she thinks my eyes make her wet, wait until she finds out what my tongue can do to her.
I kick off my loafers and loosen my belt. My fingers twist the button on my pants and slide the zipper down to the end of its line. I let my pants fall down to the floor and push them aside with my feet, then discard my briefs alongside them. My hardened dick bumps against the glass, and I take it in hand, stroking it while thinking of her being wet.
Here I stand as a voyeur, peering into her bedroom, and jacking off to the thought of her text. I’ve sunk to an all new low, but it’s a low that feels so right.
Neenah, this is how bad I want you.
Images of her in her bathing suit and then again in her bra and panties as she looked at herself in the mirror—all of the images from my secret view of her play like a movie in my mind. I press harder nearer the tip of my dick, adjusting my stance to feel everything she makes me feel.
God, I want to taste her.
Just one more kiss. One more touch. One chance to run my lips over her body.
I want to hear her moan and make her buck with pleasure.
My legs start to tremble, and that familiar tingle zings forward from my spine to my balls.
Neenah, I want to make you come.
The light in her room comes on, and suddenly, the quilt on her bed is thrown back. She appears in the window and looks up at me.
Can she see me? Can she see my white dress shirt shining in the dim moonlight?
I don’t stop. If she wants to watch, it’ll be my pleasure to entertain her.
Her eyes find mine in the dark and a sleepy smile spreads across her face. Her gaze lowers to where my hands are then dart up again to my face. Her eyes widen with shock then fill with curiosity as they drift back down to watch my hands tug, twist, squeeze, and pull my pleasure from me.
Her fingers reach out and slowly adjust the curtains further open, her eyes never leaving my hands.
Sweat beads break out on my forehead, and I swipe at them with my forearm, taking a step forward to widen my stance.
I’m about to lose my load, but I slow my hands, wanting to make it last longer for her now that she’s in this game with me.
Her hands fidget with the edge of her t-shirt. Is she getting aroused? She squeezes and pulls on the hem impatiently. Her weight shifts from one leg to the other often, but again, her eyes never leave my dick.
She’s wet, and I know it.
Within a few seconds, her hands twist the hem and remove her shirt, tossing it back behind her to the bed. Full breasts bounce then rest against her body. Her stiff peaks point at me, accusing me of neglect, begging me to lick them.
Her gaze lifts to mine in invitation. She dips fingers into the waistband of her panties. Her legs spread subconsciously as she rubs her own clit. In pleasure, her head falls back then rolls forward again, looking up at me with those big, blue eyes.
Damn it, I want to be the reason she comes.
I’ve never met anyone sexier in my whole life.
I stroke my dick like I’m the express train in rush hour. Jeez, I need her badly. I unbutton my shirt and let it hang open, giving her even more of a show. Will she take her panties off?
She lifts one leg onto the windowsill, pulling her panties to the side. Her long fingers dip in and out of her pussy. They speed up, matching my rhythm, and suddenly I burst, spraying my load over the window and dripping down my fingers. I pick up my underwear from the floor and use them to wipe myself off. Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pants pocket on the floor. I bend to check it, and it’s her.
Neenah: Come finish what you started.
Me: I’m on my way.
I race into my bedroom and slip on a pair of shorts opting to forego briefs. Then I slide a tank top over my shoulders and tug it down as I jam my feet into some slides. Within a few minutes, I’m at her back door, breathless, and hard again just thinking about tasting her. I twist the doorknob, and it opens. I lock it before heading upstairs.
Noiselessly, I walk up the stairs and tiptoe quietly past Dane’s room. I peek in. He’s sleeping sideways on the bed, out like a light. I follow the dim light shining from under her closed door. Before I turn the knob, the thought strikes me that I’m about to start a relationship with a mom. Am I ready for this?
She has an ex-husband, and generally more responsibility than I do. Different responsibilities than I do. I don’t know his name, where he lives, how often he’ll see his child, where they’re from, or much more of anything other than I want her, his ex-wife. Damn you, Mikael.
I gently push the door open. Neenah is lying on the lounger, dressed in a black, midriff shirt that barely reaches the matching black lace of her panties. She’s sexy as fuck and still wearing that sleepy smile on her face. Her eyes, though—they’re sinful. They tell me they want me too.
I scoop her up and carry her over to the bed, ready to finish what we started two nights ago. Her face turns up to mine, and her lips open with a single hitch of her breath. I’ve waited all day to put my lips on her, and I won’t wait any longer. Her fingers wrap around the nape of my neck and pull me closer to the heat of her mouth. I devour her in a soul-scorching kiss as our tongues dance in perfect synchrony.
I break the kiss to lay her down on the edge of the bed.
The sweet smell of lust fills my nostrils. She’s wet for me. I need to taste her.
Leaning forward, I run my tongue down an invisible trail from her navel to the top of her panties, planting small kisses along the waistband. “Are you wet for me, Neenah?”
She moans in response and lifts her pussy closer to my face, enticing me with her scent. My fingers dance up the lace that rides high on her hips, then I pull them off, tossing them onto the floor.
She’s almost bare, with just a teaser of hair on her pubic bone in a triangle pointing down to the sweet spot. I drop to my knees and push her legs open wide, scattering kisses up the soft skin of her inner thigh. I’m salivating to taste her. I nuzzle the bundle of nerves nestled at her entrance before teasing her with the tip of my tongue. As soon as I touch her, she jerks upward off the bed, releasing a mewling sound.
“Ian, do that again and don’t stop,” she begs, slowly lowering herself back down to me. With the flat of my tongue, I lick the folds of her velvety flesh softly, over and over until I settle on her clit. Sucking and laving I rain attention on that spot, making her grip the bed covers with a tight fist, pulling them, writhing in pleasure.
My name escapes on a whisper of a moan from her lips. I slide two fingers into her core, slowly building her up to release.
She s
its up on her elbows and reaches for me, but I kiss her fingers instead, not wanting to remove my fingers from her wet heat.
“Lie back, baby. Relax.” Just then, I twist my hand, pleasuring her and cup my fingers upward, reaching for her G-spot.
Her hands slam down on the mattress as a guttural whimper escapes her throat, twisting in the already wrinkled quilt covering her bed. Her body bucks off the bed again, digging her heels into my shoulders, but I grip her hips and pull her back down to my mouth as she gets lost in her impending orgasm.
“It’s coming, Ian. Don’t stop. Please,” she pants, breathless.
My fingers dip into her again and again, in and out, as I continue sucking on her swollen bud. I spread her legs wider as they begin to shake, pulling her closer to me and inhaling her sweet arousal as she explodes. A zing of electricity races up my spine as she reaches her climax.
I lick her slowly as she comes down from her peak of passion, but she pushes me away from her. “Too sensitive, please don’t,” she begs. Her legs wobble and continue to shake against me.
“No, Neenah. I want to see you through to its end. Don’t push me away.”
I slide my hands up to hold her hips gently as her fingers wind tightly into my hair. My tongue traces a slow circle around her womanly petals. My tongue slips into her throbbing pussy. The vibrations make me harder as they lessen in intensity.
She lifts her legs from my shoulders and flops them down on the bed, closing them to me in modesty. She’s spent, and I give her a moment to rest, crawling onto the bed and snuggling against her. She rolls over to face me, and I play with one of her long tendrils of hair, wrapping it around my finger then releasing it.
“That was amazing. How do you feel?”
“I feel like I could fly right now.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s supposed to feel,” I say, kissing her lips softly.
“Well, it’s been a challenging day.” The tone of her voice is unemotional, and I have no idea if ‘challenging’ is a good or bad word.
“Really, do you want to tell me about it?” I slide my hand over her fingers and entwine them with mine, encouraging her to share with me.
“We went swimming as you suggested, and the cops showed up with their guns drawn at us, scaring the wits out of Dane and me,” she explains with a slight quiver in her voice.
“What? I don’t have an alarm or security system besides the gate code. How did they know you were there?”
“It seems your brother called 9-1-1, and upon their arrival, he took great pleasure in letting them know we were trespassing. He even accused me of squatting in Maggie’s home.”
I get up from her bed and pace the floor, fury raging in me. “I’m so sorry, Neenah. He was only trying to protect me and my things, but that’s no excuse. I’ll have words with him.” I sit on the lounger and close my eyes, counting to ten to calm down.
“I know that. I thought about it long and hard once we came home. I can only imagine what fame has dropped at your doorstep. I’m not mad about his protectiveness,” she says, coming to sit with me on the lounger, straddling her long legs around me. My hands cradle the swell of her ass cheeks. “What I am furious about is his lack of regard for my son. Their guns were trained on us. I pray Dane doesn’t have nightmares over it. I’d like an apology for that.”
“I’ll see to it. I promise.” I kiss her fingers, taking each tip into my mouth and caressing them with my tongue.
“May I ask you a question?” Her eyes dart to mine. There’s no smile on her face or curiosity in her voice.
The pit of my stomach contracts in a quick fit of worry. “Sure. Ask away.”
Her index finger reaches out and traces over my lips. I suck it slowly into my mouth. “Do you always masturbate in that window?”
I look directly in her eyes. “No. Only tonight since I’d been thinking about you all day, but I will admit to checking on you every night from that window. I can see you reading in your lounger, but only up to your thighs. I watch your toes wiggle sometimes and wonder what you’re reading. And then when you’re in bed, I can only see your ankles and feet under the blanket. Does that bother you? My voyeurism.”
“No,” she whispers. Her gaze drops from mine, and her hair falls forward, hiding her face.
I tuck my fingers under her chin and lift it up. “Why are you hiding from me? What’s wrong?”
“We can’t do this. We shouldn’t do this. You don’t know me. I can ruin you," she says flatly.
“Ruin me? I’m already ruined with my own actions. You can’t do any worse,” I interject.
“But I like that you look out for me, for us. I like how you make me laugh, how you make me feel and, and how you feel against me.”
“And how do I make you feel?” I reach over and lift up the t-shirt covering her bare breasts. Her hard nipples are poking into the thin material. I want to taste them. My fingers slowly trace the puckered skin of her areolas, so pink and darkened with lust. She shivers slightly at my touch.
“You make me feel sexy. Wanted. Worth something,” she says in a quiet voice.
“Whoever didn’t cherish you is an idiot.” I squeeze her breast and guide her nipple into my mouth, sucking on her swollen peak until she squirms. My hand reaches for the other breast and pulls it to me, giving it some needed attention.
She massages the bulge in my shorts, my hard-on undeniable. I grab her hand and bring it up to my mouth instead, kissing her palm. Todd has ruined my mood for the moment.
I pick her up and carry her to the bed, laying her down inside the mess of sheets and quilt.
“Go back to sleep and dream good dreams, Neenah.” I kiss both of the peaks of her breasts then press my lips against hers softly. “Goodnight.”
I exit her bedroom, not looking back. First, I’ll deal with Todd, then I’ll show her how valuable she is. I can’t do that while being selfish with her pleasure.
Her ex-husband must be a real asshole.
16
Neenah
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Dane says as he pulls on my arm for me to wake up. I can’t even crack one eye open; they’re so heavy from exhaustion. I kick the covers from my feet then remember I never put my undies back on last night. After Ian left, I stayed under the blanket as I was.
“Dane, honey, run on downstairs and watch TV. I’ll be down in a minute. I need to use the bathroom and get dressed, okay?”
“Hurry, Mommy,” he hollers back at me over his shoulder. His bare feet thump down the hallway as he runs to the living room.
I sluggishly trudge from my bed to the bathroom, stopping on the way to pick up the panties Ian casually tossed away last night.
Ian. Good Lord that man and his tongue. My body was still thrumming from his touch well after midnight. I’m exhausted.
The bright lights of the bathroom help me to wake up enough to splash water on my face and brush my teeth. Now to get dressed and be able to function for the day on less than four hours of sleep.
Upon arriving downstairs, I notice the backdoor is open. “Dane, honey, did you open the back door?” I poke my head around the threshold of the den and see him nodding. “Words, Dane. Please use them as I can’t always see you.”
“Yes,” he says blandly as he stares at SpongeBob pumping his arms up with air for muscles at the beach. Dane lifts his arms and flexes his biceps, feeling for his muscle, making me chuckle under my breath. Boys.
I make coffee, waiting for it to brew—a little more bleary-eyed than usual. After I take a few sips, I’m ready to function.
“What would you like for breakfast?” I holler into the next room, pulling out the pancake mix and blueberries, anticipating his usual request.
“Eggs,” he replies.
Eggs? He never asks for eggs. What’s gotten into him? I lean into the doorway of the den and clear my throat. “Umm…Dane, honey. Did you say eggs?”
He nods.
“But I’ve never made you eggs. How would you
like them?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Ask Coach Legend. He knows.”
I swipe my phone out of my pocket and quickly text Ian.
Me: Dane’s requesting eggs for breakfast. I’ve never made him eggs before. When I asked how he’d like them, he didn’t know and said to ask Coach Legend. ???
I darken my phone and set it down on the counter. While waiting, I pull a frying pan out and get the eggs from the refrigerator. I only like scrambled eggs, so I’m prepared to make those. Heaven help me if something else comes across that screen. I unravel the twist tie on the bread and pull out a few slices, setting them next to the toaster.
I pick up my phone and check it in case I missed his message, but there’s no response yet. I should go ahead and make scrambled eggs. What if Ian doesn’t respond? I can’t let Dane go hungry, and besides how’s he going to know that’s not what Ian told me to make? Scrambled eggs it is.
I pull out a mixing bowl and my whisk, preparing to make scrambled eggs when a familiar voice speaks through my screen door. “Don’t scramble them.”
My shoulders drop, and I exhale in relief. He’s here. “So, don’t crack them either?”
“Not yet. We aren’t ready,” he says, walking into the kitchen. He drops his gym bag from his shoulder and surveys my egg-making tools displayed on the counter. “This is all wrong. Here, let me show you what you need.” I step out of his way and give him full reign over my kitchen.
He rummages through my cabinets quickly; exchanging my frying pan for a large sauté pan then fills it halfway with water. He places it over a medium flame, bringing the water to a simmering boil. “We’re going to make poached eggs. They’re healthier than scrambled or fried eggs, especially if you’re going to be running around a soccer field.” He gives me a half-smile, his eyes appearing to focus on my lips momentarily before going back to the task at hand.
He’s freshly shaven with wet hair that’s finger-combed and thrown over to the side. And he smells wonderful with a soft, musky scent. He’s all male and sexy as hell in the early morning.
