Read With Your Heart: a small town romance

by L. B. Dunbar

  Leon stays gentle and worshipful as he shifts his body to straddle my seated position and removes my night shirt.

  “Let me make love to you,” he whispers at my ear before kissing the shell. He doesn’t wait for an answer but tugs down the blankets over my legs and gently drags me to my back on the mattress. He kisses my bare breasts, my sternum and my neck. He sucks at my chin, my jaw, and then presses a kiss to my forehead. His hand strokes down my arm, searching for my fingers. We intertwine them, and he brings our collective hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Let me give you a baby.”

  My mouth falls open to again ask how as if I don’t understand the basic mechanics of making one. What I’m not understanding is his offer to make one with me.

  “What does this mean, Leon?”

  “It means I love you. You do everything for me and everyone else, and I want to give you this one thing. I want to have a baby with you.” His mouth returns to kissing me before I can respond. His lips retreat, moving down neck to my breast. To continue distracting me, his thick tongue laps at one nipple while his fingers pinch the other. My fingers curl around his ears and tug, lifting his head so he looks at me.

  “Leon, I’m serious. What does this mean?” I do not want to get my hopes up. I do not want my dreams shattered. I do not need false promises. “You said no promises.”

  “When did I say that?” He pauses his seduction and rests on an elbow at my side. His chest rests against my thumping core as my thighs spread to allow him between them. A palm flattens on my belly, reverently staring at my skin.

  “The night of the football game, a few months ago. You said we didn’t need to make promises.”

  “I said you didn’t have to promise me anything. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to promise you everything,” he says, holding my eyes, and I huff. He’s incredulous.

  “Leon, be real. What promises would you make me?” This conversation is irritating me. This isn’t a joke. This beautiful naked man is lying over me offering me the one thing I want most, so why am I not giving in to him?

  “You want real, baby? Here’s real—‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you.’”

  “More Shakespeare,” I snap, not in the mood for his knowledge of the Bard.

  “My man had it right, though. I do not wish to be with anyone but you, baby. You are my world. I want to be yours. I want a baby to be ours. That’s my promise to you. I’ll love you and cherish you and take care of you. Both of you.” He presses a kiss to my belly. “To strive to deserve you is all I ask.”

  I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Was that Shakespeare?” I’m an English teacher, but that does not mean I have every line of the ancient playwright burned in my brain like Leon.

  “That was a Leon original,” he teases and shifts to kiss one breast and then move to the other. He returns to the left one and circles my nipple with his tongue before opening wide and taking me into his warm mouth. He’s good at this distraction thing, but I’m not finished discussing this proposition.

  “I like Leon originals,” I quietly say, releasing his ears and scratching my fingertips over his scalp. He sucks at my breast, tugging my nipple to a sharp peak and then moves back to the other achy globe, paying it equal homage. He looks up at me, all innocent eyes with a hint of mischief as his tongue circles the nipple before he takes the other breast in his mouth for another deep suck. He releases me with a pop.

  “I’d like to write another Leon original.” A finger strokes down my middle, straight to my clit, and my hips rock at the touch. His rough fingertip flicks at the sensitive nub before his finger slips lower, entering me with a swift surge upward. Leon shifts his body to catch my sharp intake of breath with his mouth. He kisses me, telling me without words what he wants to give me. My body responds. My hips roll against the delicious intrusion of his finger, and he adds a second to prime me.

  “So you want to have a baby with me?” I mutter against his lips on mine. His smile curls his lips over mine.

  “Among other things,” he mutters. He pulls back to glance where his fingers enter me. My hips dance under his attention. “I love how you respond to my touch.”

  “What other things?” I question, refusing to fall completely for his sweet seduction. Not yet.

  “One thing at a time, pretty lady.” He peers back at me, enjoying himself while he tortures me with his fingers and teases me with his vagueness. “Got one more quote and then I’m going to concentrate on making you happy.”

  I stare at him. How does he have the brain power to even think of Shakespeare while his fingers are doing what he’s doing to me?

  “‘She’s is beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; she is woman, and therefore to be won.’” His eyes hold mine. His fingers dipping deeper, taking their time to move forward and draw back. “Game on. I plan to win, pretty lady.”

  “Shirts and skins?” I whisper, my mind muddled.

  “Heart and soul,” he replies. His fingers dip in a way that makes the flutters in my belly start. He’s going to bring me to the edge quickly, and my breath hitches, warning him I’m close. That’s when he releases me, shoves down his boxer briefs, and spreads my thighs with his hips. He sets himself at my entrance and holds himself just outside of me. The tip presses against me, ready to impale and fulfill his new promises.

  “You okay with this?” he questions, looking at me with a blip of hesitation. “Skin to skin,” he states, struggling with how close we are. The anticipation. The passion.

  “Heart to heart,” he whispers, and I nod. He’s already won me.

  I brace for the rush, but he continues in a slow torturous stroke, slipping forward, dipping inward, and taking his time to fill me. I sigh in contentment. How can every time feel better than the last? Making love to him will never grow old.

  Leon pauses his movements, closing his eyes while a vein works at his neck. He pulls back, retreating to my entrance, but my body will not release him. My thighs clamp over his hips. My hands come to his backside, squeezing the firmness and begging him to remain inside me.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says as if he reads my thoughts. “I love you.”

  A sob leaves me for some reason. A mixture of disbelief and pleasure swell inside. He’s said it a few times, but it’s always had a condition with it. He loves me, that’s why he’s back. He loves me, that’s why he wants to stay. He loves me, that’s why he wants to give me a baby. But this? It’s just that simple.

  He loves me.

  “You don’t need to say it, baby. I feel it.” He continues to prove to me how he reads me by moving forward, rocking his hips to increase the pace and filling me over and over again. “Your love surrounds me, and I am never letting it go.”

  One tear leaks and then another. His thumb brushes them away. He stops talking, just working at pushing forward and pulling back until I can’t take it anymore.

  “Faster,” I whisper, and he shifts, resting his knees under me and lifting my lower half. He does all the work, increasing the pace, deepening the thrusts, and rushing to give me what I want most. He watches where he enters me, and I watch his face, filled with fascination. His hands clutch at my thighs until the strain becomes too much for him.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs watching himself enter me. His palm slides over my belly as if he can will my womb to fill. He stretches his thumb to my clit and strokes at the folds, playing me like an instrument. I’ve never felt anything like this. This connection. This love.

  “Let me in,” he says, and I clench around him, swallowing him with each thrust, bringing him deeper into me.

  “You’re in, Leon. You’re so in. Mind, body, heart, and soul,” I whimper over the jarring surge of him inside me.

  “What are you saying?” he stammers as his thumb circles me, and his dick hammers faster into me.

  “I love you,” I strain, and then I break, coming around him like I’ve never come before. It’s a warm blanket draped over me. A pai
ntbrush tickling my skin. A rush of emotion spilling out of me.

  I reach for him, clutching at his biceps, holding him as if I’ll never let go. My thighs squeeze at his hips. He rocks three times as I come around him, and then he stills. I’m hyperaware of him jolting inside me, pouring his seed into me and another tear escapes.

  Could this really be happening? Could he give me what I want most? His love. His child. It doesn’t seem possible after all we’ve been through, yet gazing up at him while keeping him buried inside me so nothing spills, I’m overwhelmed with more emotion than I’ve ever experienced.

  Leon keeps my hips tilted upward, and it feels really real . . . and so incredible.

  “If this doesn’t take, we’ll just keep working at it,” Leon says, glancing up at me. “I promise to make this happen for us, and I’m as good as my word, baby. Always as good as my word.”

  + + +

  Leon and I spend the next month working on making a baby and preparing for the holidays with my family. We make it to the winter break from school, and once my literature exams are graded, I look forward to some time to relax.

  The first weekend off, I plan to spend a day making Christmas cookies with my mother like I do every year. My sister and Emily are present, along with my niece, Katie. Lys is another new addition, and my mother smiles at her growing family. Cookie baking day is one of my favorite traditions.

  Leon drops me off early, asking if he can use my car for a few things during the day. I assume he’s doing last-minute Christmas shopping like any man does. I’d be lucky if I received anything from Trent that hadn’t been purchased a day or two before the holiday with the unforgivable words of that’s all they had left when it was the wrong size, wrong color, or simply something I did not want. I hadn’t looked forward to the holidays in years as much as I looked forward to this one.

  And it was all because of Leon.

  “So I wanted to tell you something,” Emily says as we roll dough to be dropped into powdered sugar. “I’ve decided to adopt Katie.”

  “Oh my God, that’s amazing!” I shriek, drawing the attention of my mother and Pam who don’t have quite the same reaction. I’m assuming they already know.

  “Well, after all you admitted, I was reminded again that life is too short. I decided to approach Jess about making Katie mine. I mean, Debbie abandoned her, and I just love her so much.” My eyes cloud as do hers, proving the depth of love she feels for my brother’s daughter. Her daughter.

  “I’m so excited for you. For all of you,” I say, looking up at Katie across the kitchen.

  Emily hesitates a second. She takes a deep breath and rushes out the rest. “After knowing everything you lost, and even though it’s not the same thing, I just didn’t want to upset you by adopting Katie.”

  “Upset me?” I scoff. “I’m so happy.” I truly am as I have news of my own, but I decide now isn’t the time to share with them. This is Emily’s moment. I’m not certain anyway how to explain that Leon’s agreed to be my baby-daddy. It sounds a little surreal and a whole lot of scandalous, considering all we’ve been through, but I meant what I said—I love him—and I love that he wants to give this to me.

  “How is Lena?” Emily asks. She knows that Lena plans to finish out the school year, continue to apply to college, and give the baby up for adoption. Maybe it’s another reason Emily decided to adopt Katie. Life is short, and we need to cherish the precious in it.

  “She’s doing really well. She’s strong-willed, so she’ll make it.” I have every confidence that while the decision isn’t one Lena made lightly, it’s the right decision for her and her baby. There’s a loving family out there who wants the gift.

  “Yes, she will,” Emily states confidently.

  “I’m so happy you came back for Jess,” I say, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. I love my soon-to-be sister-in-law and Katie’s future mother.

  “And I’m happy Leon came back to you,” she says, catching my eye. “He’s been good for you.”

  I almost giggle. She has no idea how good he is.

  Lesson 29

  Home means more than four walls.

  [Leon]

  I’m pacing the living room nervously as her mom is driving her back to the house. Tricia had gone to her mother’s for their annual Christmas cookie baking day. I still don’t have a truck, so I asked Tricia if I could borrow her car. This assured she wouldn’t return home too soon. I didn’t purposely want Tricia to get drunk or miss a night in our bed together, but it played into my plan that she stayed the night at her mom’s by turning the cookie-making day into a girls’ overnight because of extra wine.

  Now, I’m worried what I’ve done will upset her more than please her, and I’m having a fucking meltdown when Jess hands me a beer.

  “Relax. Women love this shit,” Jess teases. His eldest brother, Tom, helped as well as Ethan Scott, who’s returning the favors I’ve done him for his upcoming restaurant. Lys is in on my surprise too, so she stayed at Mary Carter’s last night and she’ll stay there again tonight as I’m hoping Tricia and I will be celebrating this gift.

  “I don’t know, man. She’s organized and detailed. Lists and charts and shit. What if I got it wrong?”

  “Then you replace it, or you don’t. She’ll live,” Tom interjects.

  I want Tricia to love it. I want her to know how much I love her.

  When she enters the house, I step forward to the front door, setting my beer on a riser to the staircase without having taken a sip.

  “Hey, honey,” she greets me, hands full of plates piled with decorated cookies. Her mother stands behind her, carrying more cookies from their day.

  “Baby,” I greet her, stepping up to kiss her temple. I take the plate from her hand, and she turns for the plate in her mother’s hands.

  “Let me take these to the kitchen,” she says, and I couldn’t have planned it any better. I follow her, slipping the plate I carry onto the dining room table as we pass through that room. I’m holding my breath when we near the kitchen and almost collide with her once she enters.

  She stares at the space.

  New stove and refrigerator. New countertop. New flooring that looks like hardwood. The kitchen previously had carpet. Who carpets a kitchen? Fresh paint on the wall.

  “I-I . . .” she stutters, skimming her gaze over everything.

  “I know it’s not perfect yet. You told me you wanted to paint the cabinets since they are still solid, which we can do in the summer. We can cut out that cabinet if you want a dishwasher. Those old appliances just had to go, and the countertop was the one you showed me online.” She has this crazy thing called a Pinterest board with all her interests and hopes for a new kitchen, along with updated bathrooms plus furniture. It’s a bit backward to put in the flooring and appliances plus countertop before painting the cabinets but the new look does wonders for the space. She hadn’t yet decided on a tile for the backsplash.

  “You gave me a new kitchen.” She’s still holding the plate of cookies, her mouth gaping as she tries to take it all in. Black granite counter. Stainless steel appliances. The floor is a light gray wood imitation that is better for a kitchen cleanup. The cabinets are still solid—nothing a good coat of paint won’t revive.

  “You gave me a new kitchen,” Tricia repeats, still not looking at me but surveying the space.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say hesitantly, looking over my shoulder at Tom, Jess, and Ethan, who spent two days helping me complete this rush job. With her stunned reaction, I’m not certain how she’s taking it. I turn back to her.

  “In the Latino culture, the kitchen is the center of a home, and I noticed in your mother’s house it is too, so I wanted to give that to you. A kitchen is the place a house becomes a home.”

  She slowly turns to me, still holding the plate of cookies, and blinks. I take the plate from her hands, worried she’ll drop it, and set it on the new countertop. We took out the oversized table. Her family all chipped in to buy
her a new one for Christmas.

  “You made me a home,” she whispers. A tear leaks from her eye.

  Shit.

  “Did I get it wrong, pretty lady?”

  With that, she bursts into tears and falls into my arms. Then the next minute, she’s climbing my body, knees raised at my hips, and arms around my neck. She’s kissing my face. Between her tears and her kisses, every inch of my cheeks is wet, and I’m laughing because I don’t know what this is.

  “You gave me a home,” she mutters between kisses, balancing on my body as I hold her under her ass even though her brothers stand behind us, and her mother is watching. “I love this so much. I love you so much. Leon, thank you. Thank you for this.”

  Her mouth crushes against mine, and I stumble back from her eagerness.

  “Hey, we helped, too,” Ethan calls out, hinting I should share her enthusiasm, but there is no way I am.

  “So did I, but I want none of that,” Tom gags behind us.

  “I want that, so it’s time I get home to Emily,” Jess says, and Tricia finally leans back, but remains clamped onto me.

  “Thank you, all of you,” she calls out and then returns to my mouth. We don’t hear any of them leave.

  + + +

  “Please,” she whimpers. We were on our way up to our bedroom as Tricia wanted to thank me for the gift of a kitchen—for the second time. She’s already thanked me once, falling to her knees on the new kitchen floor and taking me with her mouth, but now we’re bent over the dining room table, and I’m thrusting into her. She jumped on my back as we left the kitchen and nipped at my neck. I knew I couldn’t wait the distance it would take to get up the stairs. I flipped her to the dining room table, repaying her eager appreciation with my mouth between her thighs before we took to this position.

  “Thank you,” she stutters as I enter her over and over again. Little does she know I’m the one grateful for her, and if I’d have known she was hot for appliances, I’d have taken her to a home improvement store every night. Then again, we’ve been having sex often enough with or without new appliances, so there’s been no loss by not visiting a Home Depot.