by K. Webster
“You had plenty of dessert today. If I recall, you had dessert three times before we went to the grocery store and once more just now in the car inside your garage. Do you really think you need any more dessert?”
He laughs as he climbs up onto the stool to watch me, but suddenly, he grows very serious. “I’ll always need you, Nora.”
With Donnie, he can be so playful one moment and dead serious the next. That’s one of the things I love about him—he has so many layers, and I enjoy uncovering each one.
Today has been amazing. After the shittiest day ever yesterday, today has been perfect. We didn’t have any media mishaps while at the grocery store, and nobody tried to attack us, which is already progress where our relationship is concerned.
“Does that scare you?” I ask. Turning from him, I dump the box of noodles into my boiling pot of water. Tonight, I’m making him mom’s spaghetti.
“Know what scares the fuck out of me?”
I look over my shoulder at him. He’s already hopped off the stool and is stalking toward me. “What?”
“Not needing you. Or worse yet, you not needing me. That scares me. What we have is powerful, little lady.”
He pulls me tight for a hug and I melt into his hard chest, my arms wrapped firmly around his middle. I love that we both smell like his soap after a shower earlier that would have made anyone blush. He wasn’t kidding when he said that our lovemaking could be kinky as hell too.
“Are you daydreaming about my cock again?” he laughs.
I snap out of my daydream, where I was, in fact, thinking about his lovely cock and how deliciously sore it makes me.
“No, asshole,” I lie as I lean up and playfully bite the flesh on his neck. When he growls and I feel him harden between us, I place both hands on his chest and push him away. “Go sit back down so I can cook.”
He flashes me a panty-melting grin, and I try to will myself not to burst into flames. I’m starving, and if he keeps ravishing my body, there’ll be nothing left to ravish.
“Give me your panties first. I promise I’ll be good, but I want to watch you cook knowing there’s nothing on underneath that dress.”
It’s been confirmed. We’re not eating dinner tonight. Looks like dessert is the only meal we’ll ever eat together.
“Fine. But you stay seated in that chair, mister.”
He nods emphatically and grins as he waits for me to hand him my panties. Wrenching my already short dress up my hips, I grab ahold of my panties and push them down, letting them pool at my ankles. Then I step out of one side and raise my long leg to him so he can grab them from my foot.
“Naughty Nora,” he admonishes as he retrieves the panties.
I laugh as I drop my leg. “If I’m Naughty Nora, then you must be Dirty Donnie.”
“At your service, my lady.” He bows, grinning.
His eyes never leave mine as he stuffs the panties into the pocket of his jeans. Once he’s safely back on the barstool, out of reach, I set to stirring the sauce and adding spices and vegetables.
“Nora?”
“Yes, Donnie?”
“Do you want to work at the call center forever? Is that your dream?”
I chew my lip thoughtfully. While I like my job, it’s just that—a job.
“My dream is singing. The club gave me a taste, although warped, of that dream. Guess that’s gone now though,” I sigh.
He’s quiet as I continue my cooking. Finally, when he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion.
“Nora?”
“Yes, Donnie?”
“The band is done.”
Dropping the spoon into the sauce, I swivel to face him. “What?”
“Done, babe. One of the reasons I hit rock bottom is that Bobby, Chaz, and Ryan all thought things would be better if we went on a permanent fucking hiatus. Music is my life,” he says gloomily.
I don’t like the look on his face. The despondent, low look.
“They did what?”
He nods and hangs his head for a moment.
“Those assholes,” I snap.
His head lifts again and plasters on a fake smile—a smile that might work for others but doesn’t work on me.
“They’re my family. I guess, all along, I always knew it would come to an end. My dad warned me. All these years, I’ve had to listen to his speech about fallback careers, investments, and other bullshit. I just thought we’d go on forever, I guess. Music is my life—so by losing this, I feel like I’m losing a part of me.”
His eyes flick up to the top of the refrigerator. I follow his gaze and see several bottles of hard liquor. My chest tightens as anger fills me. Snapping my attention back to him, I place my hands on my hips.
“Donnie, we’ll get through this together. If music is what you want in life, then, by God, music will be in your life. Nobody can take that away from you. While that part of your life might be over, you’ll still forge on doing things that make you happy. And I’ll be here with you every step of the way. Do you understand that? So this low place you’re dropping to, it’s going bye-bye. I’m here, babe. You’re not alone.”
My chest heaves from my speech and my hands are shaking. All I want to do is protect his fragile heart—a heart he wears so openly. Time has passed for others to fillet that heart of his. His heart now belongs to me, and I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone harm it.
The timer beeps, telling me that the noodles are done, so I turn my back momentarily to turn off both the sauce and noodles. When I twist around to face him, he’s standing right behind me.
“Nora.” His hands cup my cheeks as he pulls me to kiss him.
I clutch my fingers around the back of his neck and allow myself to be consumed by him. I’ll always want this closeness that we have. His hands begin slipping down my body until he roughly grabs both of my bare ass cheeks through my dress. Those hands—God, those big, sexy hands—possess my ass with every squeeze. I yelp when he lifts me up but instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. Us—together—we fit so perfectly. I moan eagerly when he reaches a hand between us and fumbles with unbuckling his pants. Before he sends them to the floor, he pulls out a condom and hands it to me. Then his pants hit the ground and he shuffles us so that I’m pressed against the refrigerator.
I rip open the condom wrapper with my teeth and quickly yank it out. Reaching between us, I grab hold of his gigantic cock and slide the condom on. I’ve barely moved my hand before he’s pushed himself deep inside me.
“Donnie!” I cry out. Fuck, I’m sore, but I don’t care. I need being with him like this. He needs it too. I’m always wet while I’m near him, so after a few thrusts, the pain subsides and I’m eagerly bucking against him as he pounds me into the refrigerator.
I can hear the bottles wobbling and clanking together as he fucks me as if we’re the only two souls left on the planet. He’s groaning, which means he’s close to coming, but before he climaxes, he stills within me. I whimper when he easily holds me with one hand under me while the other slides between us and finds my clit.
“Oh!” I shriek as he begins expertly massaging it.
His thrusting continues and my body weakens with every passing second as an orgasm sits on the horizon. He drives into me hard—so hard that I see stars because it feels so good. A bottle from the top of the refrigerator wiggles right off and slams to the floor, shattering at his feet.
But does my man stop?
Hell no.
He fucks me wildly, knowing that we’re both about to come. When another bottle crashes to the floor, I half-scream, half-moan as my climax tears through me. Being impaled by him against the refrigerator has his cock reaching places I never knew existed—taking me to heights I never knew I could reach. I’m shuddering, barely able to keep my hold on him, when I feel his release. His cock throbs powerfully within me.
When his movements slow, we finally make eye contact. The sad look from earlier is gone. What replaces it matches my own.
; Fiery resolve. The need to protect. Peace.
“You made a mess, Stormy,” he laughs.
Deflect with humor—my man’s main defense.
“Call me Stormy again and I’ll cut your balls off. The spaghetti recipe doesn’t call for meatballs, but I could improvise,” I tell him saucily.
He chuckles as he shuffles me over to the counter and sets me down. My shoes are a casualty of our lovemaking, as they sit in the middle of the broken glass. I watch as he disposes of the condom and pulls his jeans up. He’s still wearing his shoes, so he sets right to cleaning up our mess. As he dumps the rest of the swept-up glass from the floor into the trash can, I hop off the counter. Pain instantly stings my heel and I yelp.
“Dammit, Nora. You can’t go barefoot in here just yet,” he scolds. Easily, he lifts me back up onto the counter. “Let’s see what you’ve done to yourself.”
His phone rings from the island countertop, but he ignores it to tend to my wound. Several times today, he’s briefly spoken to his sister Daphney, and I wonder if she’s the one calling to check in again. I try to push away the fact that she had me kicked out of the hospital yesterday when I just wanted to see him. She can’t kick me out of his house though—I wouldn’t want to have to knock a bitch out.
He bends my injured leg at the knee and rests it on my other knee. Dipping down close, he inspects the area that is now trickling with blood. Naughty Nora is in full force because I’m imagining a sex scene that involves a hot, tattooed doctor and his patient. We’ll play the parts accordingly, of course.
When he looks up at me with an eyebrow raised, I try to hide my grin. Again, I’m not sure we’ll ever eat dinner because I’m already needing more from this man.
“You’re accident-prone as hell. You know that right?” he asks with a smirk.
I don’t answer him because I’m too busy looking at his sexy little mouth—a mouth that I know from experience has a mind of its own.
“Huh?”
He chuckles and leaves me to wet a paper towel. “I’m going to make sure there isn’t any glass left inside.”
While he inspects it closely, I can’t help but notice the serious manner with which he does it.
“Donnie?”
“Yes, Nora?”
“Have you ever thought about doing something in the medical field? Your family clearly has an affinity for treating people.”
He frowns and looks up at me. “Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you want to do it forever. I want to create music. Play music. Perform music. That will never go away.”
I nod because I do understand what he’s saying.
“Sit tight. I see a tiny piece of glass, but I’ll need to remove it with tweezers. I’ll be right back.” He bounces out of the kitchen and disappears.
His phone rings again but stops by the time he comes back.
“Someone is trying to get ahold of you,” I tell him as he sets to work, pulling the glass out.
“Probably Dr. Crappy Dappy again. I swear, that woman is going to smother me. She was supposed to come back into my life, not take over,” he grins. Proudly, he holds up the tweezers to show me a tiny piece of bloody glass between the two metal prongs.
“Thank you, Dr. Dirty,” I purr.
He groans and finishes cleaning up the cut. Once the Band-Aid is in place, he slides my leg back down and places both palms on my thighs.
“Naughty Nora and Dr. Dirty—that’s straight up a porno title.” He gives me one of those half-cocked smiles that twists my insides. Good God, he’s fine.
“We could act it out,” I whisper seductively, spreading my legs in front of him.
He growls as his hands slip under my dress, along my upper thighs. His thumbs, together, massage my still-sensitive clit.
“Woman, I think you’re addicted to Donnie’s big dick.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “Keep referring to yourself in third person and this woman will have to take care of things herself.” To prove my point, I push away his hands and tease myself through my thin dress.
“Fuck that,” he grumbles as begins unfastening his jeans again.
I grin, knowing I’ve won, and I’m eager to take him again when we hear the front door swing open and commotion fills the entryway.
“Shit!” I hiss.
“Stay here,” he orders protectively as he storms off toward the noise, fixing his jeans along the way.
I adjust my dress to cover myself but don’t leave the countertop for fear of more glass.
Moments later, Donnie reappears with a little boy in his arms. The sight sucker-punches me right in the gut. Seeing the little boy hugging him melts my heart.
“Sutty Butty came to see me,” he laughs and kisses the boy on his head.
“Sutty Butty?”
“My little man, Sutton. June had a panic attack when I didn’t answer her calls so the cavalry came a running. Sutty Butty, this little lady helped me get you out of Mommy’s tummy,” he croons.
My eyes mist over at the realization that I helped Donnie deliver that little chubby angel. Being a 911 operator, I hardly ever get to meet one of my success stories. Seeing the little boy in front of me causes my heart to swell with pride.
“He’s so big!” I exclaim.
Donnie bounces him on his hip and brings him closer to me. June and Bobby enter the room and look at me questioningly.
“June Bug, this little lady is Nora Storm. You can thank her for bringing this little guy safely into this world,” Donnie introduces.
Instead of speaking right away, she runs over to me and hugs me. I squeeze my legs together, desperate not to flash my lady bits.
“Darlin’, I thank my lucky stars every day that you were able to help knucklehead over there deliver Sutton. Clearly, fate brought you into our lives.” She breaks away and takes Sutton back from Donnie.
“Yeah, no kidding. Donnie left to deliver a baby—our baby—on his own devices could have been fucking terrible. Thanks for not letting him botch up the most important part of our lives,” Bobby grins.
“It was my pleasure, guys. It brought me to Donnie, so I’m incredibly thankful,” I tell them.
Donnie smiles and walks over to me before placing a kiss on my forehead. “You guys should stay for dinner,” he tells them happily. This is his family. And now, I’m a part of that. A part of his happiness. “But I’m afraid I have bad news.”
Everyone looks at him in question.
With a twinkle in his eye, he feigns sadness. “There won’t be any dessert for you afterwards. Nora and I already overindulged many, many times today.”
It’s been two weeks. Two amazing fucking weeks with my lady. We’ve settled into a comfortable pattern that involves spending every possible moment together.
We wake up. We make love.
I take her to work and then hit the gym. At lunch time, I pick her up and we make love wherever we can steal a chance—which, lately, is in my car.
I then pick her up after work and take her home to make love some more.
We eat and shower some during the day too, but both end the same—with us making love.
What was once a foreign concept to me is now something I crave. With Nora, we don’t fuck. Sure, we bang like rabbits often, but when we’re together, it’s different. More. I’ve been with so many women that there’s no way I could ever count. But not one single one has made me feel the way she does.
Thankfully, I’m finally feeling like myself. Over two weeks with no drugs or alcohol and I feel like a fog that once consumed me has been lifted. It wasn’t easy those first few days after the overdose but with Nora’s constant support and overly protective Dr. Crappy Dappy asking about my wellbeing every hour on the hour, we somehow managed to make it through. When I dealt with a few killer migraines and had more than a little attitude, Nora lovingly bitch-slapped me back to reality. I appreciate her constant yet tough love approach she displayed during that time.
Now, I sit in the parkin
g lot, waiting for my woman to get off work so we can go to my father’s for dinner. The dinner of the year. This happens to be the first time I’m actually looking forward to it. With Nora on my arm, I know I’ll be able to handle whatever criticisms my father will deliver.
Speaking of my father, I haven’t spoken to him since before my overdose. Since the media frenzy between Nora and me has died down, he retreated back into his perfect little life away from his fuck-up son, which is fine by me. But Daphney? She terrorizes me daily, asking about my wellbeing. As annoying as it can be, I’ve come to enjoy the few visits and daily phone calls. She’s even gone to tolerating Nora as much as possible. And while they’re not friends, they at least get along.
I look down at my suit. I fucking hate wearing suits, but Dad insists on a ridiculous dress code. Sighing, I climb out of the car to wait for my lady. She brought her dress with her to change into before we head to my parents’ house.
“You clean up well,” a female voice chuckles.
I look up to see Nora’s friend, Libby, heading my way. She reminds me of Ashley Judd with her dark hair, knowing smile, and wide eyes. I’ve come to get to know her well and I actually really like her.
“Where’s Morgan Freeman?” I laugh. Every time I see her, I ask about one of Ashley Judd’s co-stars from her movies.
She rolls her eyes and hugs me. “I do not look like her,” she chides.
I just grin at her when she pulls away because she totally does.
“Nor’s looking more gorgeous than usual,” she tells me conspiratorially.
“I don’t doubt that she looks fucking amazing.” I’m not sure it is even possible for my woman to get any more beautiful.
She beams back at me but grows serious. “Donnie, that girl is special. You struck it big, buddy.”
Boy, do I know it.
“Ashley—I mean Libby,” I tease but continue on when I get the stern look. “She’s my whole world. I know I’m a lucky guy.”
She nods, clearly pleased with my answer. “Good. But she’s lucky too. I mean, she had idiot Jansen before and was never truly happy. She thought she was happy, but the way she is with you is on a whole different level. It’s nice to see my girl like this.”
