by Mia Ford
“Lift your hips,” I say.
He does as I ask, and I pull both the pants and boxers down. I try to do it slowly, running my hands down his legs, but I’m too impatient now. I want to taste him, to hold his throbbing dick in my hand and know that I’m the one who has done this to him.
It’s unfairly possessive. I gave up all rights to Grant long ago. But I can’t help the thrill that runs through me as his penis springs free, standing hard and tall, to know that I still have such an effect on him.
I lean over him and blow lightly on his penis. It shudders and his hips jerk upward, out of my hold.
“How badly do you need me to touch you, Grant?” I ask, my voice low.
He groans and leans his head back, his eyes fluttering closed.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Just fucking touch me already.”
I reach out and wrap my hand around his penis, giving it a light tug, caressing it gently with my fingers. He groans wordlessy, overwhelmed by even the simple touch, and it lights a fire in me that tightens my hand to grip him firmly. I run my fingers over the tip, smearing the leakage there over his hardened skin. He chokes on a gasp, his hips bucking up once more.
“Fuck!” he groans.
His body is shuddering. He’s completely falling apart under my touch, and that satisfies a dark, inner need that wanted to know if there was still a part of him that belonged to me. I’m so selfish, but I can’t help but want to be forever branded in his mind.
But I still want more. I breathe him in and take my hand off him, ignoring the choked protest that he makes. I look up, meeting his eyes for a moment, seeing the hazy lust that is dominating his expression, before leaning down and taking him into my mouth.
I can taste his sweaty skin and the salty liquid of his pre-release. I swirl my tongue around the tip of his penis, and he writhes beneath me. I reach out and grip his hips so he can’t thrust them upwards, and hollow my cheeks that I can go down further on him, his dick sliding past my jaw and behind the roof of my mouth. I swallow around him and he curses above me, the vibrations overwhelming him.
“Fuck, more, do that again,” he pants.
I swallow again and he groans deeply. I can’t see much of him from this angle, but I can see the way his stomach heaves and his legs tremble as they fall further apart, allowing me to settle more comfortably between them. I dig my nails into the skin of his hips, distantly mindful of the fact that the crescent marks would be there for some time, just like the hickey that I sucked onto his neck. He’ll see all those marks later tonight, and even tomorrow morning, and know that I put them there.
That shouldn’t please me as much as it does.
I suck hard on his dick, trying to tempt him closer to his orgasm, and swirl my tongue around the length. His skin is sweaty and I’m finding it hard to keep my grip on his hips. He groans again and I laugh around him. He swears at the feeling of the vibrations and his entire body jerks. Without any warning, other than a sudden twitch of his penis, his orgasm hits. I swallow it down, keeping my lips wrapped around him until his penis is flaccid in my mouth. I breathe in deeply through my mouth, waiting as some of Grant’s trembles begin to subside.
And then I give his penis a hard suck.
“Fuck!” Grant exclaims, his entire body jolting at the sensation. “What…?”
I look up at him, and he groans, no doubt remembering my promise to draw an orgasm from him before making him hard all over again, just so I can ride him. He chokes on a gasp as I suck again, and his dick twitches in my mouth, reluctantly pulling to attention. I swallow around him and I feel blood rushing to it. When it stands hard again, I finally pull away, satisfied to see how quickly I could make him hard once more.
I’m still clothed, but that’s easily remedied. I make quick work of my shirt and skirt, throwing them away hurriedly. I can feel Grant’s eyes on me, watching as I take my clothes off, and the weight of his gaze heavy and hot. Slowly, I raise my eyes to meet his and reach behind myself to unclip my bra. I allow it to fall to the ground, and Grant’s eyes flick over me, taking in my body. Had he watched me like this last night? I don’t remember; last night had been rushed and furious, all about touch and sensation. Today is just as angry and fierce, but I can’t help but pause to feel the weight of his eyes, to see the way he’s looking at me.
“I want you to fuck me,” I say, the words slipping out of me. “I want to feel you in me. I’m going to ride you hard, and I want you to fuck me as I do.”
He shudders as I stand and slowly slip my panties off, allowing them to drop to the ground. We’re both naked now, bare in front of each other. For the first time, I feel slightly vulnerable. What’s going to happen after this? I don’t want to think about the future right now, but this is the second time we’ve had sex in as many days. Aren’t we going to need to discuss this? Do I even want to? After all, avoiding that conversation is why I ran away last night.
But I can’t avoid it now. Not if Grant and I are going to somehow make something work for Owen.
It’s a terrifying thought. So I straddle Grant instead, not wanting to think about it at this moment. Grant is in front of me, needy and hard, and I want him so badly it’s almost painful. I’m wet with need, and I’m desperate to have him inside me.
Then Grant’s hands wrap around my hips, making me stop.
“Wait,” he says, his voice rough.
I almost ask him what’s wrong. Then his hand travels lower and his fingers circle my entrance. I gasp and arch my back, but I don’t stop him. Touching Grant is addictive. But having him touch me? It’s the most amazing feeling in the world.
Next, one of his fingers slips inside and I groan as he wriggles it around, rubbing against the walls inside of me. He pushes another finger in too, and he thrusts lightly while I hold his arms.
I almost whine when he pulls them out, but then his hips buck slightly, and I’m reminded that I have something much better waiting for me. Grant’s hands lightly grab my hips, and he guides me as I lower myself.
When his penis breaches me I have to pause. I’m so close to the edge, and he’s not far away from his second orgasm, either. I breathe in deeply, closing my eyes. Then I slowly sink down on him until I’m sitting in his lap.
“Fuck,” Grant whispers, and I have to agree. This is so overwhelming.
After a moment, though, my body twitches, and I know I’m ready to move. I tighten my hands on Grant’s shoulders and look up at him, meeting his eyes. Then I raise myself on my knees before thrusting down on him again. Grant groans and his hands on my hips tighten. When I next thrust down, his hips buck up, meeting me perfectly, and stars explode behind my eyes.
“Shit, oh god,” I groan, throwing my head back.
We thrust together again, and I know he’s hit my sweet spot, because pleasure rushes through me, so overwhelming that I almost can’t breathe. Heat is swirling around us, choking us and making us sweat, and my legs shake with the effort of holding myself up. We’re not going to last much longer.
Grant must realize this too. Suddenly, his hands are guiding me up and down, pulling me down to meet each thrust as we gasp and groan, the air around us full of slapping skin and heaving breathing. Black spots dance in my vision.
Then pleasure roars through me and I’m lost. Distantly, I feel Grant thrust once more before his body shudders, and then I’m swept away on a tide of overwhelming lust.
Slowly, my trembles begin to subside and I slump against Grant’s warm skin, panting. I feel him carefully guide me off him, and then I’m laying on the couch. I blink blearily at his face hovering over mine. I’m so tired all of a sudden; I didn’t sleep much last night after everything that happened, and now, suddenly, that’s catching up to me.
I want to say something to Grant. Maybe ask him to stay so we can talk. But the words don’t leave my mouth, and he doesn’t say anything as his hand hesitates before smoothing my hair out of my face. I close my eyes at the familiar sensation, an awful ache in my chest.
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Then the tides of sleep carry me away.
I can still feel Grant's fingers on me and in me, caressing my skin, the heat swirling around us, as I wake up. It takes me a moment to realize that my alarm has just gone off, but I don’t remember setting it. I glance blearily at the time and sit up straight as I remember that, in an hour, I need to pick Owen up.
“Shit!” I say.
I make to stand, and then freeze. I’m lying alone on the couch, completely naked, covered only by a scratchy blanket. Why…?
Then I remember.
“Grant?” I call tentatively.
He must have been the one to set the alarm. I see my day planner open beside the phone, the page turned to today, which has Owen’s pick-up time written on it. There’s no note, but it seems Grant remembered me mentioning that Owen was at daycare today, and set out to ensure that I wouldn’t forget to pick him up.
It would be sweet if I didn’t know that Grant’s actions had nothing to do with consideration for me, and everything to do with Owen. The fact that there’s no note makes this clear. He hasn’t even met his son and he’s already thinking about what’s best for him over anything else. I have a feeling that, if it wasn’t for Owen, there wouldn’t be anything left for me at all.
Grant is definitely gone. I don’t know how long ago he left after covering me with a blanket and setting my alarm for me, but there’s no movement in the apartment, so I know I’m the only one here. I glance at the phone. How did he open it? It’s password locked. Or does he really know me so well that he was able to guess the password that I would use?
I run an agitated hand through my hair. It’s a mess, and I should have a shower before I leave the apartment. But I can’t bring myself to move. I’m angry and hurt, and I’m also feeling a little ashamed of both myself and those emotions.
Grant isn’t here. He slipped out while I was sleeping, which is exactly the same thing that I did to him this morning. I have no right to be irritated or upset that he isn’t around.
Especially since we ended up having sex again. What are we, a pair of horny teenagers that can’t keep our hands to ourselves? More than that, this is the second time that I’ve initiated the sex. Grant might have been a willing participant, but he didn’t make a single move to start anything until I waylaid him both times.
I wish he’d stayed so we could talk about this. I let out a laugh that echoes hollowly around the apartment. I don’t have a right to want that. If anything, Grant leaving like he did is well-deserved karma.
I sigh and slowly pull myself to my feet. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Grant will definitely return; he knows about Owen now, and I have to talk to him about giving him time to see his son.
I reach the bathroom and lean against the door. If I had known everything that would happen just because I allowed Allison to drag me out of my apartment for a night out, I would have never left. What’s done is done, now, though.
All I can do is keep going forward and hope that everything will work out okay.
Chapter Ten
Grant
Part of me feels like a coward for running away while Jessica was sleeping, but I couldn’t bear the thought of facing her. Besides, it’s not like she hasn’t done it. She ran off this morning while I slept on the couch in the staff area, not even bothering to leave a note. She’s lucky I remembered that she had to pick up her son – our son – before I left so that I could set an alarm for her.
Other than that, I don’t owe her anything at all. I don’t owe her explanations or discussions about what’s happening between us. If she doesn’t want to tell me the things she owes me, then there’s nothing else for the two of us to talk about. From now on, the only thing I want to talk to her about is Owen. He will be all that will link us together.
I throw open the door as I step into my messy apartment, bad-temperedly kicking aside a pair of pants as I shut the door behind me a little harder than necessary. That’s easy enough to say, but prior experience has already taught me that Jessica and I, for some reason, can’t be alone before we’re jumping each other. The only way this is going to work is if we only ever see each other while Owen or someone else is in the room with us.
And I’m going to put my foot down on this, I decide. Jessica and I, we’re done for good. She left me without an explanation, and couldn’t even be bothered to tell me about my own son so that I could be part of his life. I no longer give a damn what she wants.
It’s with this thought in mind that I head into the kitchen and flick the switch on the kettle, glad that I don’t have work tonight. Fiona works the Saturday shifts while I work the Fridays. Then, on Sunday, another bartender, Graham, comes in to work that single day since the bar closes early. This gives me an entire weekend off, and I’ve never been more grateful for it than right now. I’m going to need the entire weekend to get my head in order after all the revelations of the last two days.
In my pocket, my phone vibrates, and I pull it out to see a message from Kyle.
“Ok?”
Poor Kyle has no idea what, exactly, is going on, but he’s picked up enough to know that it isn’t good. I close my eyes. Even to my friends I can be closed-off and refuse to give explanations, which is why even Kyle and Ethan don’t really know what happened between Jessica and me, or anything about my past. It’s the way I prefer it; I don’t want anyone to look at me with those accusing eyes ever again.
Except…
I lean against the counter and sigh. It’s a little lonely. If Kyle knew a little more about what’s been going on, I wouldn’t have to explain myself. I suddenly feel the intense need to tell him everything. I imagine what his reaction would be and snort. He’d never forgive Jessica for it.
Though maybe he’s already guessed. I already thought, before, that Kyle understood that Owen might have been my kid long before I did. Slowly, I raise my phone and type in a message.
“The kid is mine.”
There’s a pause, and then the phone vibrates with another message.
“That sucks. What now?”
I can’t help but laugh at the reply. That sucks… The understatement of the century.
“Going to see him.”
Kyle’s reply doesn’t come straight away this time, as though he’s thinking about what he wants to say. I know he’ll be fine with me having a child; he loves Lily, after all. But he might be wary of me involving myself with Jessica again.
Then…
“Have to bring my new nephew for a visit.”
I stare at the message. And then, finally, a genuine smile spreads across my face, and I feel myself relaxing my tensed shoulders.
“Yeah, I will.”
I put my phone down and stretch, feeling better, now. The kettle has already boiled, but I flick the switch again before I fish a mug out of the cupboard, wanting some coffee to clear my head. I still have to figure out what to do next, but at least the tightness in my chest has loosened and my thoughts have stopped circling around uselessly.
The first thing I’m going to have to do, even if I really don’t want to, is get in contact with Jessica. I won’t do it tonight, I decide. I’ll wait until tomorrow, when I’m calmer. She’s already promised to introduce me to our son, and I’m determined to set a day for that now before too much time slips away. I’m not giving her the chance to either change her mind or disappear on me. She’s already done that once, after all.
And then…I have to get to know Owen.
I make my coffee and carry it over to the couch. Just the thought makes my heart pound in excitement and fear. I don’t know how to be a good role model; fuck knows I haven’t had many myself. But I’m going to try my best for my son’s sake.
I’ll show Jessica just how wrong she was to keep him from me for so long. I can be a good father.
I will.
It isn’t until late Sunday afternoon that I finally work up the courage to phone Jessica. I asked Kyle to get Jessica’s number off Allison - who is still blissful
ly unaware that anything untoward has happened between me and Jessica - for me. I stare at it for a long minute before finally taking in a deep breath and dialing the number.
She picks up on the fourth ring.
“Hello?” she says.
Her voice is cautious. The paranoid part of me thinks that it’s because she already knows it’s me calling. The logical part knows that she wouldn’t know it was me because my number would have come up as unknown, which is why she’s wary.
“It’s Grant,” I grunt.
I hear a sharp intake of breath. Then she sighs.
“Allison?” she asks dully.
“Kyle,” I correct. “I had him ask Allison for your number for me. I’ll be apologizing to Allison for using her very soon.”
“I’m sure,” she says. She sounds bitter, but I don’t think that’s fair; she’s probably upset I left yesterday, but what right does she have to be angry about that? “I guess you want to meet Owen?”
“As soon as possible.”
She sighs again.
“I understand,” she says, and her voice softens. There’s a hint of regret that I refuse to think about. “Does Tuesday at around twelve work with you?”
I work the afternoon shift on Tuesday but…
“I can do it,” I inform her.
Fiona will be happy to switch with me when I tell her what’s going on. I’ll send her a message as soon as I get off the phone.
“Great,” Jessica says, though she sounds unenthusiastic. She pauses. “I’ve told him. About you. He knows you’ll be coming to visit him soon.”
I’m pleasantly surprised. I didn’t expect her to say anything to Owen about me at all, leaving me to try and explain myself to a three-year-old boy that has never known his father.
