Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “What special occasion?”

  I left the coffee shop but didn’t make it very far before he caught me. Jon grabbed both my shoulders then turned and backed me up against a tree. The heat and possession I saw in his eyes sparked my lust and gave me an instant hard-on.

  “What special occasion?” Jon repeated. He lowered his head and brushed his morning scruff against my neck, and it had the same effect as if he reached between my legs and massaged my aching balls. I was no match for him. Yet.

  “We met a year ago today,” I said throatily.

  Jon pulled back and tipped his head to the side. “No, we didn’t. We met at Gabe and Josh’s house on Easter Sunday. That particular anniversary is in a few days.”

  “That’s the day we physically met, but I’d dreamed of you before then,” I reminded him. “I didn’t see your face, but I heard your voice, and I felt your arms around me as you made love to me slow and deep like you do every morning. Do you know what you said to me afterward that scared me to death?”

  “Thanks for the good time?” he asked smartly. I could tell it was his way of grappling with emotions he wasn’t always sure how to process. Jon might’ve been older and worldlier in some ways, but it was up to me to show him how to love openly.

  “You said, ‘I love you, Em,’ and it scared the fuck out of me.”

  “Because you weren’t ready,” Jon replied patiently.

  “In part, yes, but also because it felt truer than anything I’d ever experienced in my life. Loving someone is a risk; one I wasn’t brave enough to accept at the time.”

  “You’re brave enough now.”

  “Somedays I still wake up terrified that I’ll lose you or that you were a mere dream I created to ease the loneliness I felt in my heart.” The burning behind my eyes and in the back of my nose warned of pending tears. “But then you slide up behind me—”

  “—and inside you.”

  “And I’m no longer afraid.”

  Jon closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re not the only one who worries. There are days I wake up thinking that I’m too dirty and tainted to touch anyone as precious as you.”

  “Because of your career or your previous club membership?” That got his attention.

  Jon looked horrified that I’d had a vision, so I set his mind at ease right away. “It wasn’t something that I saw, but overheard. You mentioned Voodoo while talking to Corbin, and I got curious. I looked it up on the internet and saw that it catered to gentlemen with specific needs.”

  “That was a different lifetime, Emory. I’m not that same man who got off on the things he saw or did there.”

  “Jon, I’m not bringing this up because I’m trying to shame you or make you feel bad. I wasn’t angry about your past membership there; I was curious.” Am curious.

  Jon’s cocky smile said that he didn’t miss the change in tone I used. “I gave up my membership,” he confirmed. “Curiosity can be a very dangerous thing, my heart.” There was nothing sexier than a badass man saying sugary sweet things or using pet names. I knew it was genuine and came from the heart he’d kept guarded all these years until I came along.

  “I simply want you to recreate some of your favorite things in the privacy of our own home. Did you like to tie your man up—”

  Jon pressed the palm of his hand over my mouth to quiet me. My tongue darted out to lick his flesh, and I tasted a hint of the muffin he’d held in his hand mixed with his natural saltiness. It made me want other saltier parts of him.

  “They were never my men, Emory. That title is yours and yours alone. They were playthings or distractions to keep my mind away from dark places that threatened to consume me. That’s a horrible thing to say about living, breathing humans, but I didn’t care about them beyond them making me come and doing the same for them. It was the basest kind of sex—hollow and meaningless. Do not compare what I was then to who I am now in the same sentence.” He removed his hand slowly from my mouth like he feared how I would react to his words.

  “I’m your safe place, Jon. There is nothing you can say or do that would make me love you less. If you’re going to be truly happy, then I want to make sure you’re not suppressing parts of you. I’m not afraid of your baser needs, in fact, I’m intrigued by them. Ever since I found out about your membership there, I’ve pictured us doing so many things.”

  Jon took a sudden step back, grabbed my hand, and tugged me forward to follow him down the sidewalk. “Too bad this town doesn’t have a cab service.”

  “It’s only three blocks to our house,” I said excitedly. Oh boy! It was all I could do to keep from yanking my hand back so I could rub mine together gleefully. I was finally going to get the fucking I had begged him for the past few weeks.

  “Three blocks too fucking many,” he groused as he walked faster until I practically had to jog to keep up with his long strides.

  His grip on my hand tightened the closer we got to home like he feared I might change my mind and flee. He had nothing to worry about because there was a higher probability of an asteroid crashing into our house. He didn’t let go of me until we reached the front porch and he needed his hand to unlock the door. He pushed the door open so hard that it crashed into the wall and rattled the pictures hanging there.

  “Oh dear,” I said, but it wasn’t from fear. I knew I was about to see Jon take fucking to a whole new level. That first time in his house was nothing more than an appetizer before the main course.

  Jon shut and locked the door before he crooked his finger at me, and I went to him. He began undressing me immediately, and I stood before him completely naked while he remained fully dressed. His dominance was etched in both his expression when he looked at me and in his rigid posture. Jon placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me to my knees in front of him.

  “Take out my cock and get it nice and wet, Emory.”

  “Oh dear.” I repeated, sounding like a twittering old lady. Jon’s wicked grin expressed how much he liked his effect on me.

  I lowered myself to my knees but didn’t take out his hard cock right away. I teased him through his jeans with my hands and teeth. Jon’s sharp hiss was a reward for my boldness.

  “Oh dear,” he said. I glanced up to see if he was mocking me, but he was too far gone to be a smartass.

  Jon’s hands were firm but gentle when he cupped my head and pressed his crotch harder against my face while I rolled his firm balls in my hands. I could smell his arousal, and it made my dick leak all over the wooden floors. I could tell he wasn’t wearing underwear under his button-fly jeans and it made it so much more exciting to know only a few buttons separated me from Jon’s dick.

  I released the top button and licked and sucked his bare skin just above his trimmed pubic hair, eliciting a deep groan from him. I worked the next button free and pressed my nose against the short hairs, breathing in Jon’s masculine smell and teasing the base of his cock with the tip of my tongue. I continued my torture until his erection was free. I took my time licking a path along the thick vein that ran from root to tip, swirling my tongue around his swollen head and moaning when I captured his salty essence on my tongue. I’d choose his savory taste over something sweet any day of the week.

  “Emory,” Jon cried out when I opened my mouth wide and sucked him to the back of my throat. I liked that the tables had turned and he was at my mercy. My chuckle vibrated and rippled along the length of his cock, adding to his stimulation. “Feels so good.”

  I loved giving Jon head because he was so verbal and bossy. He wasn’t ashamed of his needs and wants, and it was an insane turn on knowing that I was who he wanted and needed. I worked his cock fast and hard then soft and slow to bring him to the edge then backed him off. I had no issues swallowing his load, but that morning I wanted him to fuck me rough and hard until he spilled inside me.

  “Stand up,” he demanded.

  Jon grabbed my shoulders and nudged me toward the stairs. He swatted my ass playfully onc
e I started up the steps. Instead of continuing up them, I dropped to my knees on the landing halfway up where the staircase turned before it continued its ascent. The carpet runner was soft beneath my knees, and the air felt cool against my bare ass that I presented to Jon.

  “Jesus fuck,” he snarled as he removed his clothes then dropped to his knees a few steps beneath me.

  He pounced and feasted on my ass, working me open with his tongue and making sure I was wet and ready before he gave me what I wanted. Sex—rough, raw, and real. Jon gripped my ass hard with his hands as he worked his dick inside me. My moans had nothing to do with any physical discomfort; they were all about the wicked pleasure he made me feel.

  “Damn, you feel so fucking good,” he said in a guttural voice. Jon didn’t ask if I was sure, he didn’t stop to make sure I was okay, he reacted on pure instinct to rut and mate.

  Jon gripped my hips hard enough to bruise me, adding to my excitement, then set out on a fierce pace that expertly pegged my prostate with every hard thrust forward. Jon released my hip to reach around and grip my cock. It didn’t take too many pumps before I shot all over the carpet. My orgasm triggered his, and we both yelled each other’s names as we rutted against each other as our climaxes worked through us.

  “I think you killed me,” Jon said when he collapsed onto the carpeted landing beside me. He turned his head and looked at me with concern. “Did I hurt you, Em? I was rough.”

  “I’ve never been better.” Then I chuckled as a thought occurred to me. “Was that your attempt at playing hard to get?”

  Jon snorted then laughed hard at the ridiculous idea that he could somehow resist my charms. “You wore me down,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corner from smiling so wide. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Wait a minute,” Jon said as he recalled a different part of our conversation. “I want my anniversary gift now.”

  “That was it,” I said innocently. “I gave you unrestrained access to my hole. Wasn’t that enough?” I attempted a playful pout but must’ve failed because he laughed at me.

  “Where’s my present?” Jon asked, sounding and looking like an excited little boy. How long had it been since someone gave him an unexpected gift?

  “It’s up in our bedroom,” I said. “Come on.”

  Jon got to his feet and shoved me lightly so he could run past me to reach our bedroom first. I laughed so hard that I couldn’t follow him right away. By the time I got to our room, he’d opened both the drawers in our bedside tables and was heading toward the dresser. I had something hidden in there that I wasn’t ready for him to see. It was the only part of my vision that I hadn’t told him about yet. I wasn’t exactly sure when I would spring that surprise on him.

  “Hey,” I said, catching his attention. “You can quit ripping and tearing through here looking for your gift. I stashed them so I could whip them out at the right moment.” I walked over to the bed, reached inside my pillowcase, and pulled out an envelope. “You sure know how to kill a surprise.”

  Jon looked worried that I was upset with him.

  “I’m kidding, baby,” I said. “I love your enthusiasm. Hell, I can’t wait to see what you’re like on Christmas morning.”

  Jon pulled me to him and held my nude body against his. “You see my Christmas morning face every day when I open my eyes and see that you’re still here.”

  “Charmer.” It worked too because I was ready to melt into a puddle at his feet. Who knew such a gruff man could say such sweet things? “Open it.”

  Jon took the envelope from me and ripped it open. “Oh, Em!” He looked up from the Yankee tickets he held in his hand. “Are you sure you’re ready to travel so soon?”

  “Dr. Rosenau gave the okay after my last scan. We’re moving forward with our lives, Jon. Someday this,” I ran my hand over my stubbly scalp, “will be a distant memory.”

  Jon chuckled and tucked my head under his chin. “This is an amazing gift.”

  “We’re just getting started, Jon.”

  Six months later…

  “Tell the truth, Em. Did you have to perform sexual favors to get these seats? This is the World Fucking Series.”

  “My granddad pulled a few strings, but I doubt he blew anyone,” Emory replied after he finished swallowing the bite of hotdog he was quickly mowing through. “We can ask him when we have Thanksgiving dinner with him.”

  I respected and admired a lot about Connor Whelan, especially the way he loved Emory. “Will your mother be there?” I asked. Over the past few months, Audrey had attempted to repair her relationship with Emory. I’d met her but couldn’t say I liked her. I recalled our first interaction vividly.

  “Why did no one call me and tell me about Emory’s brain tumor? I’m his mother and I had a right to know and be here for him!”

  I had looked at her with a deadpan expression and clapped my hands slowly at her performance. Emory had told me all about his mother and her bullshit behavior. Audrey McIntire-Whelan flinched like I had slapped her. I wasn’t through though.

  I had leaned closer to her and said, “Our government trained me how to kill someone and make it look like an accident. Fix things with Emory or fucking walk away for good. Your hot and cold routine isn’t welcome in our lives.” So far, she attempted to get on board.

  “Yes,” Emory said, “but she’ll be on her best behavior with granddad around.” I didn’t want her to act like she loved Emory; I wanted her to love him.

  “Are you hungry or something?” I asked when he scarfed down the rest of his hotdog. “Do you want another one?”

  “No,” he said around a mouthful of hotdog. He held up his finger for me to wait while he chewed the last bite before washing it down with a long drink of soda. “It’s almost the seventh inning.” As if that explained a damn thing.

  “What? Are you eager to sing ‘God Bless America’ or something?”

  “Um, no.”

  I narrowed my eyes because he suddenly looked nervous. What the hell was going on?

  “I want to be ready in case the Kiss Cam is aimed at us.” Emory reached into his pocket and pulled out a tube of lip balm and smeared some on his lips.

  “Well, you might want to get rid of that mustard smear,” I said, gesturing to his upper lip before I handed him a napkin.

  He looked up at the jumbotron and said, “Oh, it’s about to start.”

  “Em, baby, this might be San Francisco, but it’s not likely that… Fuck!” I pointed at the giant screen as I stared at my stunned image on display for the entire ballpark, possibly the world, to see. Beside me, Emory grinned like a loon as he reached into his pocket for something. Over our images, it didn’t say “Kiss Cam,” it said, “Jon, Emory has a question for you.”

  “Jon?”

  I tore my eyes off the screen and looked at Emory. He lowered himself to his knee between the rows of seats while people around us cheered him on.

  “Will you marry me?”

  I smiled so wide that it felt like my face was about to split in half. “Yes!”

  Emory slid the ring on my finger, and I pulled him to me for a kiss. I showed some restraint due to our location, but I was sure he knew that I would express my happiness in more depth when we returned to our hotel room.

  We received a lot of congratulations from the fans around us, some funny looks too, but we ignored them. When the game resumed after the seventh inning stretch, I looped my arm around Emory’s shoulders and pulled him into my side. I rested my cheek on top of his head and looked up at the sky.

  Thank you for sending him to me, River. I promise you that you won’t regret it. Be good to my brother. My mouth fell open in shock when a small light shot across the night sky. It was probably a NASA satellite, but I chose to believe it was River answering me. And why the hell not? I never thought I would have someone to call my own either.

  “This was a magical night,” Emory said happily.

  “It’s just the beginning, baby.”

  T
he End!

  To Racheal Yunk,

  You’re an amazing woman and I’m so blessed to call you my friend.

  “Whose bright idea was it to buy such a big house?” I grumbled to myself as I hauled four massive suitcases up the grand staircase.

  “I believe this house was your idea.” Josh’s accusation followed me up the steps. It didn’t take him long to develop the fine-tuned hearing of a parent once we brought the babies home ten months earlier in January.

  I would’ve loved to argue with him, but he was right. I knew Josh was looking for a bigger space for the two of us to move into so he could expand his salon by converting the personal residence upstairs into a lush—his word, not mine—massage area. I’d fallen in love with our stately home, formerly known as Georgia’s mansion, the first time I saw it after rolling into Blissville. Of course, I was living with a different man at the time and never would’ve guessed that I would live there with Josh and our twins. Life was turning out far better than I could’ve predicted back then, which meant that I needed to stop grumbling about our parents staying with us, and be grateful our home was big enough for eight people to cohabitate for two months. Two freaking months!

  That’s right. Both sets of grandparents showed up in time for Thanksgiving and planned to stay until we celebrated Dylan and Destiny’s first birthday in January. I crazy love both sets of parents, but eight weeks of quieting down our sexy times was just too much. It felt like we just got both kids to sleep through the night and Big Daddy got to come out and play more often with Little Daddy when the Grandparent Express rolled into town the weekend before Thanksgiving. We’d mastered the art of being super quiet during sex with little people in the house, but I was certain our parents would know exactly what we were doing if we snuck off together during the kids’ naptime.