The more time that went by, the more my body seemed to tighten, and pain was beginning to settle in. I prayed that I wouldn’t feel like I was in traction the next morning.
“Michelle is going to spend the day with Elijah tomorrow,” gushed Monica, leaning over with her wine glass in hand, spilling a few drops on the floor near her feet.
Whitney gasped and stared at me with wild-eyed wonder.
“Look at you missy, coming out of your shell. How did all of this come about?”
“Well, she almost let the chance slip through her fingers,” Monica answered for me. “If I hadn’t been there to play matchmaker she would have completely missed it.”
“Well, I still don’t know if that’s a great idea,” interjected Harlow grumpily.
He crossed his arms, pouted and frowned like one of the children I’d nannied, right before they were set to have a meltdown.
“Awwww! What’s wrong, honey?” asked Whitney, playfully ruffling his hair.
“The guy just gives me bad vibes. Ever since the helicopter crash. He was supposed to have been…” He looked at me and then shook his head before stopping mid-sentence. “I can’t really put my finger on it, but I know that something is just not right about him.”
Everyone grew quiet, as if considering what he was saying. I didn’t know what helicopter crash he was talking about. It didn’t seem like something I was supposed to be privy to. I figured that if Elijah wanted me to know about it, he’d tell me, eventually, so I was glad that Harlow had stopped his train of thought.
Until now I had been pretty unattached to the whole situation. They had known Elijah longer than I had and I was mostly just a bystander. But, now it was really bothering me.
“I appreciate your concern, Harlow,” I began carefully. “But I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I know that you have known Elijah for a lot longer than I have, but I think that Elijah could just be misunderstood.”
Harlow shrugged.
“I guess you could be right,” he agreed. “I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I just wish I could put my finger on what bothers me and why. I shouldn’t talk about it until I’ve figured it out, though. And I’m glad you’ve found some company.”
All eyes shifted to me. The awkward stares made me both uncomfortable and irritated.
“Yes, let Michelle make her own decisions,” Monica urged.
I thought back on the day and remembered how attentive Elijah had been, the worried look of concern on his face that had lingered long after I had fallen and everyone else had gone back to hiking, in their own little world. The softness in his eyes as he asked me if I was okay repeatedly, the warm way that he had invited me to his place in a cave. The events of the day told me a completely different story than the one that they were telling.
“I just think that he’s misunderstood,” I repeated quietly.
“I agree,” said Monica. “Look, you have to form your own opinions of him and you seem to like him a lot, so, that’s good. I know he’s a rugged, reserved mountain man and that’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but, if you like it, go for it.”
It’s kinda hot, I think, even though I could also understand why the rest of the Bradfords and Darren would find Elijah rather closed off and maybe a little weird. I was glad Monica was there to say what I was thinking once again. I was finding my voice, but it was still a bit wobbly.
“Now, who’s down for a good old-fashioned drinking game?” sang Monica, shimmying her shoulders playfully. “We can make this tea into some hot toddies.”
“Or just skip the tea and do shots,” Jensen piped in.
“You know I would if I could,” Whitney said, placing a hand on her baby bump.
“Yeah and you’d probably win, too,” Harlow said.
“Not so fast now,” Monica interjected. “I think the trophy will go to me, and it probably would even if Whitney could participate.”
I laughed as they started dancing around and chanting, “Drinking game! Drinking game!”
They definitely knew how to have a good time. But I was exhausted from the day and wanted to make sure that I was as rested as possible for the long day ahead.
“You know what guys? I’m gonna go ahead and turn in.”
This got a string of booing and hissing from Monica, Harlow, and Hope.
“Yeah I know. I’m a party pooper,” I said, my eyes beginning to feel heavy from the glass of wine that I had drank. “I have to be up early in the morning. And as we all know, I’m no spring chicken.”
I smiled at my own silly joke, poking fun at myself. Since Whitney had the clearest head due to lack of alcohol, she brought up another point I had already bene thinking. “Well, it’s good that there are two of us sober in case anything happens with the kids.”
“Or with any of the grown ‘kids,’” I said, pointing to Harlow, Ramsey and Jensen.
Everyone laughed and said I’d made a good joke. But I kind of wasn’t kidding. I would expect the guys to do something dumb and get hurt before I’d expect any of the kids— who were pretty well behaved— to get up to anything dangerous in the middle of the night.
Whitney and Harlow reiterated to me that I should have a good time tomorrow— which I planned to do. Whitney said not to worry about watching the kids; they had it covered. I was grateful for her generosity but I knew I’d still feel guilty about taking a day off, even if I had a feeling it was going to be a very good time. I thanked them, said good night, and left them to their fun, since I was about to have my own very soon.
Chapter 14 - Michelle
I walked down the long hallway to the guest room that Hope had extended to me, with the invitation to make myself at home. Now, I was doing just that.
I stripped off my clothes and threw them in a heap in the corner of the room. I turned on the shower, letting the water get hot. Steam billowed around the room, filling my lungs with hot air.
Standing in the hot water felt wonderful. The intense heat from the water streaming down over my skin relaxed my tired and sore muscles. I got out of the shower feeling like a brand new person, steam rising from my warm, reddened skin.
I stood in the mirror in front of the large double sink and looked myself over. My large round breasts sagged slightly. My love handles bulged out in ripples, making my plump midsection look like kneaded dough. It was no wonder I hadn’t had sex before today. No man is attracted to a woman who looks like a sack of potatoes, I thought.
I reminded myself not to speak too harshly to myself. Obviously Elijah liked what he saw. He had expressed his appreciation for my body just fine. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d taken my for my very first time. It had been amazing. I knew I had to realize that it had been great for him too, so, clearly he liked my body.
It had always been hard for me to fight my insecurities. I thought back to the guy I had gone to Prom with in high school. His name was Robert, but everyone called him Robin because his best friend was Steve, football captain and president of our class.
They called him Robin because he was always attached to Steve, chiming in like a sidekick at every given chance. It was actually a real turn off, but I had been so surprised that he wanted to go out with me that I was willing to overlook it.
Steve asked my best friend Tiffany, and I had the feeling that she had something to do with him asking me. I didn’t really care, though, because at least she’d gotten me a Prom date. Even though we were best friends, Tiffany had a reputation as being easy, having hooked up with half of the boys at the school.
There were plenty of times that we had gone out together, and because she had hooked up with someone, as she always did, she would hook me up as well. That way I didn’t always feel like a third wheel whenever we hung out. But none of them were ever very interested in me and the feeling was always mutual.
So, when Robert asked me to the dance, with the most lackluster voice and dead eyes, I was almost convinced that he had been put up to some sort of sick joke
. When Prom finally arrived, he didn’t attempt to even be a gentlemen. He went to Prom in a limo with a few of his friends and made it clear that I wasn’t invited to come along.
“Let’s just meet up there later and then we can go to a hotel room,” he’d said when I’d called earlier that day.
I tried not to feel disappointed, but I was. Not only was I disappointed, but my mother had been as well. She had been so excited when I told her that I had a date and was going to Prom. She took me shopping so I could find the perfect dress, turning to brag to anyone who would come within a couple of feet of us about how her beautiful daughter had a hot Prom date.
She made sure that she had plenty of room in her phone to take pictures of my date and me when he picked me up. She looked crushed when I told her that he wouldn’t be picking me up and that I would just meet him there.
I didn’t even have the heart to tell her he’d mentioned a hotel room after— clearly he had just wanted to have sex with me but wasn’t interested in anything else. She’d burst into tears and locked herself in her bedroom when I’d only mentioned that he wasn’t going to be stopping by to pick me up. I didn’t know if I should feel more sorrow for her, or myself.
When I showed up at Prom, Robert was nowhere to be found. When I finally saw him, he was disheveled and drunk, hanging all over one of the pretty cheerleaders named Megan. She was popular and beautiful, but everyone knew that she was jealous of Tiffany and wanted to be with Steve. But that didn’t stop Robert from taking full advantage of the situation and flirting with her.
At the end of the night Megan left with a group of cheerleaders, right after Steve and Tiffany made their exit. Robert seemed disappointed when he came over to where I stood drinking punch and holding up the wall and said, “You ready to go or what?”
“See ya later man,” said one of his team mates, slapping him high five as he walked by. “Looks like someone is about to get laid.”
“You know it man,” he said, winking and punching Nick in the arm.
“I wouldn’t just assume these things,” I said to him, finally finding my voice.
He’d looked at me as if I had just told him the earth was flat. He couldn’t imagine me not giving it up to him. I realized I didn’t have a ride home, and I didn’t want to make my poor mom come rescue me from my sleazebag date, so I told myself to put up with him until the limo dropped me off.
When we arrived at the limo, we were the only ones in it since everyone else had found another way home. I could hardly close the door before Robert turned to me and started trying to undo the zipper of my dress.
“Hey! Wait! Stop it!” I called out.
“I didn’t ask you out to talk,” he said, leaning in to kiss my neck.
Pushing him away, I said, “Well, I’m not about to just jump into bed with you.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Who said anything about bed, sweetheart?” he asked, mockingly. “I was hoping to get a quickie here in the limo so that I wouldn’t have to waste more money on a hotel room.”
There it was. He had all but told me that he thought that I was worthless. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was the moment that I realized that Robert was nothing but an immature boy and what I wanted was a real man.
Wordlessly, I got out of the limo and walked home. At that point I just wanted to be far away from him, even though it required a lot of effort. It was a chilly night and I was wearing uncomfortable heels. My house was about a mile away, but I didn’t care. I refused to put up with Robert’s disrespect a moment longer.
After arriving home, I told my mom about what had happened, tears running down my cheeks the whole time. She listened quietly with my head in her lap while she stroked my hair the way that she had always done when I was upset, ever since I was little. She told me that she was proud of me and what I should look for in a man.
“A real man is going to be a gentlemen above anything else. He will think about your needs and desires first and will do everything in his power to keep a smile on your face. His own happiness will just be a byproduct of yours,” she said. “He will never want to see you hurt and will certainly never be the reason for your pain. Michelle, all I have ever wanted for you is to find someone who can make you happy. I don’t want you to settle for any guy who comes along simply because he’s there or, for some reason, it’s easier…”
Her voice trailed off and she got a very faraway look in her eyes. I could tell that her thoughts were no longer on me, but on herself and her own life.
My mother had been very unhappy with my father for many years. It was obvious to anyone who had really known her. She spent some days holed up in her room.
When I was little, I would ask my dad what was wrong. He would just shrug and say, “That’s just your mother,” and then go back to watching TV or whatever mindless task he had been focusing on.
As I got older, I often wondered how he could be so aloof, so out of touch about what was going on with the woman that he had promised to love, honor, and cherish. But after a while, my mother would emerge like nothing had happened.
“Let’s go for ice cream,” she would say. And I would quickly let the confusion melt away with the first taste of a vanilla ice cream cone hand dipped in chocolate.
I wasn’t happy that my Prom had ended so terribly, but I was happy that I got out of the cab when I did. And I was even happier that I had met Elijah and had been able to catch glimpses of exactly what my mother had been talking about.
Unlike Robert, Elijah was a real man. He was gentle, thoughtful, polite, and, not to mention, strong. Any man who could build their own house was one who exuded such manly strength that it would almost be impossible not to be turned on.
I finished drying off, threw on a night gown, and climbed into the twin sized bed. I laid there in the dark thinking about Elijah.
He was so incredibly sexy. The way that his eyes shone when he talked to me and the sparkling white smile that he sent my way drove me wild. Just thinking about him made wetness begin to pool inside my panties.
I started running my fingers back and forth against my hardening clit as I imagined what I wanted Elijah to do to me. I pretended that my finger was his tongue dancing back and forth across my clit, taking my excitement to another level with each stroke.
I could almost hear him moan as he would greedily lap up my nectar, pushing his tongue in and out of my tight hole. He would circle faster and faster, the same way I was doing with my finger, switching from circling my clit to fucking me with his tongue, then going back to my clit.
Part of me felt guilty lying in bed at the home of someone that I was invited to visit by my employer… playing with myself. If someone were to walk in and catch me, what could I possibly say?
I could hear it now.
“Ew! The nanny is so dirty! She’s in bed playing with her pussy!” How embarrassing would that be?
But to be completely honest, I didn’t care. It had been such a long time since I’d fooled around with a man. I hadn’t even gone all the way with one. So, I thought that pleasuring myself to imaginary fantasies would be perfectly fine.
I let myself really get into my fantasy, dreaming of him entering me slowly, taking his time making sure that I was loving every minute of it. Even though I was just starting to get to know him, something told me that there was more to him than met the eye. I had a strong feeling that there was a side to him that nobody ever saw, one that he would open up and show to the right woman.
I didn’t know if I was the right woman, but I hoped so.
I put three fingers deep inside my pussy, pretending that they were his dick plunging in and out of me. I pushed deeper and deeper, imagining him speeding up, excited about me getting closer to cumming all over his hard dick.
I couldn’t believe he had taken my virginity and couldn’t wait for him to fuck me again. I thought about his cock spreading open my pussy, as he crammed and stuffed himself inside me. I thought about
him looking down at my pussy and ass as I bounced up and down on his cock.
My pussy began to pulsate as a river of cum bathed my fingers. I tried not to make too much noise as the orgasm raced like lightning from my toes all the way to the top of my head. I was a real woman now. And I couldn’t wait to see my man again.
Chapter 15 - Elijah
I had had mixed emotions as I had watched everyone leave my cabin. On one hand, I was glad to finally be rid of them— everyone except for Michelle, that is.
The kids had found a bunch of my wooden figurines and had started playing with them. They left them strewn across the floor and had even broken off the beak from one of the eagles that I hadn’t quite finished carving yet. It was one of those projects that I would work on absentmindedly while listening to talk radio. It was calming.
After they left, however, I disgustedly threw the broken figurine away. They had ransacked my kitchen and left a huge mess, not even attempting to clean up after themselves. Michelle was the only one who attempted to clean up. I saw her picking up a pile of hunting gear that one of the kids had knocked over and left strewn over the floor.
“Don’t worry about that,” I had said, gently taking an arrow from her hand. “You don’t have to clean this up. I’ll get it.”
“Are you sure?” she asked skeptically, still clutching the gear.
Nodding so hard that I probably resembled a bobble head doll, I said, “Yes, I’m sure. You sit down and take a load off. You are a guest in my home.”
She reluctantly said, “Thank you,” and tried to make herself comfortable on one of the couches. She looked uneasy though, throwing worried glances at the pile still sitting on the floor. She obviously didn’t like a messy environment.
I kicked the pile into a closet and closed the door, hoping that she would forget about my pile of junk and go back to smiling and being happy… just like she had been for most of the day. She told everyone that she was fine after falling, but I still caught glimpses of her wincing when she shifted her weight the wrong way on her right knee.
Hold Onto Me_A Secret Baby Romance Page 128
