“Yeah, she’s a single mom too so…” she winced at her own words and walked towards her kitchen, putting the ice cream away. I followed her, making sure to close her door, and sat on one of the rickety stools at her kitchen island.
“So…” I started, not quite sure how to jump off.
“Look, I really am sorry-”
I held up my hand, and I was grateful when she stopped. “Look, I’m not going to pretend that I like what you did. I lost out on four years of my son’s life. You stole a choice from me, and there’s no undoing that.” She opened her mouth, but I continued. “But I understand why you did what you did. If I was in the same situation, I can see myself doing much of the same.”
She looked outright surprised at that and her mouth snapped shut. Good. It would be easier to get my words out the way I wanted them without interruptions.
“The truth is, we both made mistakes that night and we can choose to let them end us before we begin, or we can move past them. Personally, I would like to move past them, but in order to do that, things have to change.”
I stood up. This didn’t feel like something I should say while sitting on my ass in her kitchen. “I want to be in your lives, if you’ll let me, but you can’t hide anything else from me. Well, at least anything else that’s our business. Obviously personal stuff is different. I’m willing to give you my one hundred percent, but you have to let me and give me the same. Understand?”
By the time I finished, there were tears rolling down her cheeks and I was sure that she was about to ask me to leave. But instead, her mouth opened in a sob and she threw her arms around my shoulders.
“You forgive me?” she gasped, face so tight to my chest that I almost couldn’t hear her.
“Of course,” I answered softly, petting her back in soft, slow strokes. “As long as you forgive me too.”
She nodded, her arms tightening around me as she sobbed into my chest. And I continued to hold her, feelings welling up in me that I hadn’t expected.
“Yes,” she cried eventually. “Yes, please. I want you in his life. I want you in my life. I think… I think I might be in love with you, but I need time to find that out.”
I could understand that.
“Then I’m here for you. From this point on, I’m here.”
She leaned back and pushed herself up on her tip toes, her lips pressing themselves to mine. We shared a kiss, tender and slow, until I parted to wipe the tears away from her cheeks.
“I may have messed up before, but I want to do right by you, Belle. You’re the most amazing woman that I’ve ever met.”
More tears escaped her. “I don’t deserve those kinds of compliments.”
“Yes, you do,” I said, kissing her again, this time deeper, with more meaning. “And I’ll do my best to convince you of it in any way I can.”
She opened her mouth as if to object, but my tongue just slid into the space. Soon we were kissing just as heatedly as we had before, my body trying to tell her all that my mind couldn’t put into words.
We clung to each other, our bodies the only thing grounding us. It was dizzying all the emotions that swept through me. The relief, the desire. The uncertainty. The…
The love.
Because it was there. Small and flickering, balanced ever so carefully inside of me, but it was there nonetheless. If it was tended to correctly, I could see it growing, blossoming in my chest until there was only Belle and Griffin.
But we weren’t to that point yet, and in the meantime, I was happy to try.
My hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks, then my fingers glided down either side of her neck, then her shoulders, then down to her perfect breasts.
She wasn’t wearing a thin bra, her curvy body only hidden from me by an oversized, worn baseball tee. She looked good in it, thick thighs bare, and I was sure that if I turned her around, the very bottom of her cheeks would be hanging out.
The thought had me stirring in my pants, pressing up against the zipper insistently and I couldn’t take anymore. Once more I was struck by a need so intense, so adamant, that I knew I couldn’t make it all the way to the bedroom.
So instead I walked her backwards to her tiny kitchen island and hauled her right up to it. Her legs instantly went about my waist, but I had other ideas.
“Stay here,” I said, kissing her once more before crossing over to her fridge. First, I pulled an ice cube tray from her freezer, but then, as I looked around the bottom half of the appliance, I saw that she had two of those aerosol cans of whip cream. Now that gave me ideas.
Pulling that out too, I perused some more and eventually found some caramel syrup. It wasn’t chocolate, but it would more than do for what I had in mind.
Returning to her, I set the things down next to her, stepping back into the circle of her legs. She gave me a confused look that was just downright adorable, so I peppered her face with kisses for a moment.
“What’s all this?”
I didn’t answer, instead taking her chin between my fingers and squeezing out a line of whipped cream across the seam of her mouth. Her eye went wide, and I pressed my lips to her, my tongue licking away all the sweetness.
Her hands gripped my sides, her surprise obvious, but the most adorable little mewl escaped her to let me know her approval. Good, because we were just getting started.
When I pulled back, her eyes were doing that dreamy thing and she was borderline limp. I recognized her as sliding off into that happy, floating place she got sometimes when she especially liked what I did, so I happily kept going.
But first, I needed to see all of her.
Although she was sitting, all it took was a quick, firm jerk to get her shirt up and over her head. Then she was bare to me, center already glistening and breath fast.
As much as part of me wanted to dive into her, thrusting away without a care, I needed to play first. I needed to taunt, to tease. To show her how much I wanted her and all the things I could bring out of her. To show her that she was worth every second of my time, every sensation, and most of all, that she could trust me.
Taking one of the cubes, I set the edge of it just on her collar bone. She gasped, her eyes sharpening ever so slightly, and I slid it down slowly, oh so slowly, until I passed over the slope of her breast and right down to the nipple.
I didn’t make direct contact, but even the soft glide of it around the edge had her gasping and bucking up into me, her eyes growing that much hazier.
“Michael…” she murmured, head tilting back.
It was like music to me, and I set the ice cube down, taking the whipped cream and placing a dollop right on that perfect, dusky peak of hers. She shuddered, and I let it sit for just a moment before my mouth was on it. Licking, sucking, gliding along her flesh until she was whining in pleasure against me.
I drew it out, enjoying every little sound, every little bit of tension in her muscles, until I noticed they seemed to level off. Taking the can again, I gave the other nipple the same attention, my hands gliding up and down her back and gripping her hips in alternating pattern.
By the time I finished with that, she was panting, and her legs were shaking around her. I hadn’t even touched her center, and I wouldn’t until she was so wound up that she might pop.
Licking my lips, I found the caramel sauce and popped off the lid. Belle started at the sound, but I just placed my hand on her soft sternum, pressing firmly into the delicious softness there. After a moment, she understood what I meant, and leaned back. Back. Back, until she was posted on her elbows, her body a gentle slope for me.
“Perfect,” I breathed, letting my fingers once more glide up her form before I took the caramel sauce and dribbled it across her.
The only sad part was that I couldn’t eat her out considering my mouth was so full of sugar. I had been taught way back in my college years that that was a prime way to get a yeast infection or some even worse things, so it looked like I would only be satisfying her at firs
t with my fingers. But it was only a slightly downside, because my tongue was sliding up the trail I went, the natural saltiness of her skin perfect to undercut the hyper-sweetness of the caramel.
I didn’t just attack her nipples, going for the easy route. No, I traveled over all of her, my hands stroking, caressing, massaging wherever I could reach.
I built her up, making sure my right hand never touched any of the stickiness, until she was writhing, her legs trying to hitch higher on my body to give her more pressure, more feeling.
And I was happy to oblige.
Finally feeling like she was ready, I slid one of my fingers in her. Just like I had figured, she needed to be worked open for me, even though she was already so wet my single finger was making obscene noises as it slid in and out of her in shallow little moves.
I didn’t let up with my mouth either, assaulting her senses on all fronts. I wanted her to be so dunk on what I gave to her that there wasn’t anymore room for doubt in her head. I wanted her screaming and begging and…
“Michael, like that, Oh God, like that!”
That was a good a feedback as any, and I slid a second finger into her.
It was rapture to watch her come closer and closer to her edge. Anytime it seemed like she might be about to topple over into orgasm, I backed down.
She whined every time, her legs flailing and her displeasure evidence, but I would just kiss her all over until she had come down enough to start again. It wasn’t until she was covered with a fine sheen of sweat and her breath was harsh out of her mouth that I finally let her dive into the pool of sensation she had been longing for.
And the noise that escaped her mouth was more than worth it. I’d never met a woman who orgasmed as prettily as she did, back bowed off the counter so high until only her shoulders and the top of her head was touching. Her strong, powerful thighs were squeezed around my middle so tightly that I felt like I was her only anchor stopping her from losing herself entirely to the pleasure I gave her.
I watched her through all of it, drinking it in, thinking that - should I play my cards right - I could witness the display hundreds of time. Perhaps even an infinite number over the rest of my life. It was a heady though, and it made my knees a bit weak.
But I steadied myself, holding myself strong until Belle came back to me. I kissed her softly then, sweetly, my shirt sticking to her sugary front.
And that feeling in my chest, that little seed of love that I had tried to deny for the past five years, grew a bit more.
19
Anabelle
I felt completely divorced from my body for several minutes. Or maybe even longer. It was hard to say; often time grew both wibbly and wobbly when I was caught up in my post-orgasmic coma.
But when I did come to, with Michael gently kissing me, I felt a strange sort of happiness rush through me. Contentment too.
Was… was that what it was like to feel secure? I’d never had the sensation before, but it was entirely new and wonderful in ways that I couldn’t describe.
For a moment, I was struck by how impossible it all seemed. Once I had told Michael the truth, explained to him how I had done one of the most underhanded things a person could do to another and he’d asked me to leave his apartment, I was sure that that was it.
We were over. Done. That I had ruined everything and that the fledging feelings that were growing inside of me would wither and die because of my own stupid choices.
But he had forgiven me.
… that was insane.
It was a terrible choice, really, I wasn’t deserving of it, but I certainly wasn’t going to argue with him. The way he swept into my door, the way he asked me to let him give his hundred percent and give him that in turn had touched me in a way I didn’t think I had ever been before.
Even with all the stupid things I had done, it was clear that Michael cared about me. It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just a hook up. He cared about what happened to me and Griffin and he wanted us both to be safe and healthy.
That thought filled me with warmth and I sat up slowly, Michael helping me up.
“Come on,” I said after I swallowed a couple of times to get moisture back into my dry mouth. “Let’s go clean up.”
He nodded, seemingly speechless, and let me lead him to the shower.
I wasn’t exactly smooth as I turned on the water, knowing it would take a bit to heat up, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to be smooth. I just needed to be me. That was all that Michael wanted.
Carefully, I undressed him, undoing each button of his ruined shirt until I could pull it from his pants. He held relatively still, just watching me, his hands on my waist as he drank me in.
It was a little intimidating, if I was being perfectly honest, but I kept going. The moment was so tender, so sweet, it was a stark counterpoint to everything else we had done together.
When I finally had him all bare to me, I stepped back to look at him, really look at him. I had taken plenty of time in the past, heated little glances and appreciative stares, but I never just stopped and took everything in.
His shoulders were broad, layered with muscled and tanned skin. His chest was built, pecs built up enough that I could have cupped them if I so desired, his physique trailing down to a narrow waist and thick, powerful tights.
I could see multiple striations in his legs, and I wanted to trail my tongue along all of him. Map him out until I could see him in my slip.
But perhaps another time, because my front was growing itchy and cold from the stickiness of his earlier ministrations.
I tested the water once more and, finding that it was warm enough, I took his hand and led him inside with me.
The spray was nice as it washed over us, it was a little cooler than the scalding temperature I normally liked, but it wasn’t entirely bad. Grabbing my loofah, I lathered it up and went about soaping up the two of us.
It was nice, gliding along his muscles, and I couldn’t believe that he liked me. We were total opposites in so many ways. He was rich, I was poor, he was all hard planes and I was sweet softness. And yet when I dared to look into his eyes, I saw only heated desire there.
That look made my middle quiver, and I busied myself with cleaning us up.
But I should have known better. Just being near Michael made me ache with desire, and already my center was reminding me that I hadn’t had him inside me yet, not really. Soon, I was pressing a kiss to his lips and he was grabbing me, squeezing me in the way I loved.
The kiss deepened, as it always did between us, and soon his hand was slipping right back down to my slit, gliding along there.
“I want you,” he said, voice a low rumble.
“Then take me,” I answered.
That seemed to be all he needed, and he started to work me back up, getting my blood pumping, until finally he was lifting one of my legs and hooking it around his hip.
It certainly made my balance precarious, so I grabbed onto his shoulders for dear life. That seemed to suit his purposes just fine, because then he was guiding his head towards my center, filling me up in one long, slow slide.
I let out a gasp, feeling thoroughly stuffed to the brim. Letting my head fall back, I just held on as he rocked in an out of me, water forgotten, the world beyond the shower curtain forgotten. There was nothing that existed but me and him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, pushing into me as deep as he could. “Feel so good.”
I let out a whine, trying to think of something to say. But, as usual, Michael made my brain empty itself out, leaving only the basest parts of me. “You make me feel good.”
He groaned at that, and his pace picked up a bit, drawing all sorts of sounds out of me. It wasn’t quite enough, however, and I tried to let go of his shoulder enough to get a finger back on my clit.
But he wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed my hand and put it right back on his neck. I didn’t have time to complain, however, because his own fingers slid to ei
ther side of that sensitive button, putting pressure on either side of it, building me up but denying the direct pressure I desired.
“You feel like you were made for me, sweetheart,” Michael practically hissed, his head dropping so that his mouth was almost next to my ear. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else, I hope you know that.”
His knew nickname for me made me gasp, and finally one of his finger pads slid right where I wanted it to. “Are you asking me to take responsibility.”
“I want you to take whatever I give you.”
Oh God, he knew just what to say. That sent a thrill through me and then his fingers gently pinched that bundle between them, and the next thing I knew I was coming right then and there.
It was different than the other ones, less frantic. Less desperate. It was a deep, pulsing sort of thrum that made me feel warm throughout my entire body, pleasure radiating through every part of me.
My eyes closed, and I just let myself be devoured by it while Michael kept pumping into me.
It seemed like he too was nearing his end, words and noises tumbling out in his deep rumble of a voice.
“Sweetheart, sweetheart, baby girl,” he gasped, almost like a prayer.
“I’m right here,” I whispered, baring down on him. “And I’m not leaving.”
He let out what was practically a shout and I felt him empty himself inside of me. Hot and warm, it was the perfect ending to what was possibly the first time we ever made love.
Slowly, he set my leg down, both of us a bit unsteady. We stood under the water a bit more, holding each other, before it eventually grew cold.
I couldn’t say exactly how we both ended up outside of the shower with the thing turned off, Michael toweling me down, but that happened. When my mind came back to me, I returned the favor to him and led him to my bed.
If he thought anything of my small mattress, or my sparse furniture, he didn’t say. No, we just ended up curled around each other and under my blankets.
We were quiet a long time and I enjoyed it, feeling myself drifting on waves of happiness and safety. For once there wasn’t some stress lingering at the corner of my mind, some event I had to hurry to or some bill looming over my empty bank account. No, there was just a whole lot of hope.
Baby Daddy (Forever Daddies Book 1) Page 16
