Halloween Next Door: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 78)

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Halloween Next Door: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 78) Page 8

by Flora Ferrari


  Good, now we’re on the same page.

  I grab her around the waist to support her bent over position and I move my one foot around and kick away the stool.

  Her hands come up on the bar top and I take one leg and bring it up horizontally, laying it across the top of the bar making her legs into an L-shape, with one straight up and down with her foot touching the floor, and her other completely spread out wide.

  I put my hand on her ass cheek which is elevated, feeling that globe, rubbing it, and feel my need to be inside her take over.

  With my other hand I grab her by the hip to steady her and I move forward, my cock finding her hole and I slowly take another step forward, entering her as I do.

  “Oh fuck. This angle is unreal,” she says as I hear her breath hitch as my hand comes off her ass and then back down hard, giving her a firm slap which causes her to cry out.

  “Again.”

  And I don’t make her wait.

  Then my hand slides up her side as I move my hips in rhythm entering her and pulling back.

  When my hand gets high enough along her side I slide it around her front, right in-between her tits feeling the sweat in-between her mounds before I grab a hold of the one nearest to me and carefully tweak her nipple knowing how sensitive it must be right now based on its length and firmness.

  And my firmness is so hard I swear if I came up on my tip toes I’d lift her entire body up with me.

  But there’s no lifting here, just in and out as my speed picks up.

  I grab her hair and give it a firm tug back.

  “Uhhh. Bishop!” she yells and her echo through the house has me at the precipice.

  “Come on my cock, baby. Give me everything you’ve got, Pumpkin,” I say.

  And right on command her walls lock onto me, giving my dick a death grip that swears to never let go as we both let go of every thought in the world as our bodies let go of our gifts for each other.

  My torso spasms forward once…then twice…and finally a third time before I bend over with my forearm on the counter next to her trying to catch my breath.

  “Oh my god, that was incredible,” she says.

  I reach my hand around and scoop up her thigh from underneath, carefully pulling it back and putting her foot back down on the floor.

  My dick still buried deep and I can feel the tightness in this position, with her legs together and me behind her, my cock completely vertical.

  “You finished that intensely and you’re still hard?” she asks.

  “When am I not hard for you?”

  She smiles and suddenly the kitchen timer dings.

  I carefully back my cock out of her and hear the sound of a vacuum emptying, the air escaping her.

  “A perfect fit as always,” I say.

  I watch her globes giggle as she moves toward the oven and turns a switch and then does something with the kitchen timer.

  “It’s done?”

  “That was just the first fifteen minutes at four twenty-five. Now it needs another thirty-five to forty minutes at three fifty.”

  “You’re saying we’ve got another thirty minutes?”

  “Maybe more,” she says with a wink.

  “Where’d that whip cream go?”

  CHAPTER 24

  Bishop

  November 2nd(the morning after)

  Ding dong!

  I strain to get out three more reps at three hundred fifteen pounds on the bench press in my home gym in my garage.

  I exhale hard and get up off the bench looking at the clock.

  It’s eight o’clock exactly. Whoever this is is acting like this is some sort of appointment.

  But I’m not expecting anyone and I don’t like the idea of someone coming to our house uninvited and ringing our doorbell and possibly waking up the woman who will be my wife as soon as this semester is over and we can have a proper wedding.

  I make my way to the front door and when I’m only a few steps away the damn bell rings again.

  Whoever this person is better have a good excuse for their actions, because this is complete b.s.

  “What in the f…”

  My chest is still heaving from that last set and I’m covered in sweat.

  Not to mention I’m completely shirtless, have no shoes on, and all this weightlifting has my testosterone running wild.

  If he came here looking for a fight this time I’ll give it to him.

  “Do you have a minute?” he asks.

  I don’t say anything. I just stand there staring at him. He’s already wasting any time I’m going to give him so he better get going before this door goes back to being closed.

  “I didn’t come here looking for a fight.”

  I resist the urge to rub his face in the fact that that’s a damn good decision.

  “I came here to…”

  It’s only then I can see the pain on his face.

  The last time he was here the pain and the anger that he may have shown were hidden underneath that stupid hockey mask that was supposed to go with his ridiculous rabbit outfit.

  But this time there is no mask. There are no filters. It’s just him and me and although I know he felt pain last time, partly because of the way I grabbed a hold of him but more so because of the fear of losing his daughter, I can see this time the pain is different.

  “I came here to apologize,” he says. “If you have the time to hear me out.”

  A million thoughts run through my head all at the same time. The first one I have is that he should be apologizing to his own flesh and blood first, but she’s asleep and we’re here now so I guess the time to do this is now.

  If he manned up and came here to say his peace then I should give him that chance, no matter how he acted the last time. He is going to be my father-in-law soon, no matter how messed up that sounds.

  “Have you spoken to Penelope?”

  “No,” he says. “I came here to say it to her face. I want her to know this is real. I want her to look in my eyes and know I mean it.”

  I nod.

  “You know, Bishop…when I left here I was mad as hell. That’s no secret. But after I got home I tried to think of all the ways I could bury you in the Bayou where no one would ever find you. But you know what the problem was with each of my crazy plans I concocted? That I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret.”

  I have no idea what he’s talking about and I’m not sure if I appreciate his honesty right now or if I should reconsider our friendship based on what he just said.

  Not that I haven’t reconsidered it already.

  For the strangest reason an old Chris Rock skit from a stand up comedy special jumps into my mind. It’s the one where he says, “If you haven’t contemplated murder…you ain’t been in love.” He adds some other lines and then continues, “If you haven’t bought a shovel, and a bag, and a rug to roll their ass up in…you ain’t been in love. If you haven’t practiced your alibi in front of the mirror…you ain’t been in love. And the only thing that stopped you from killing this motherfucker…was an episode of CSI.”

  And I never understood that line because I was never fully invested in being in love, until her. Now I would absolutely never do anything to harm her. I can say with complete conviction that I wouldn’t. But if someone tried to harm her? Let’s just say that I wouldn’t not be contemplating any of the above because I take any disrespect to my woman much more seriously than I take a slight to myself. And I take those pretty damn seriously too.

  But I think the reason that line jumped into my head is because in a completely messed up way it shows me one thing about Peter’s character that you don’t find much these days.

  Yeah he may have dressed up in more shades of pastel than a man should be allowed to wear, and I consider one shade way too many. Yeah he may not be the biggest or toughest guy or even the best athlete. And I’m not even sure the guy can drive all that well, I mean he’s known to have trouble just staying in-between the lines when he gets excite
d when he’s having a conversation with a passenger.

  But that’s the beauty of this.

  He’d learn to shoot a gun straight if he perceived someone was doing something wrong to his family.

  And family is absolutely everything.

  “But then I spoke with Paula…or more accurately I listened to her. Listened as she spelled out the friendship the two of us have. And as angry as I was, and damn was I pissed off like you’ve never seen me, Paula knew what to say. She never said I should give you a pass because we’re buddies or anything like that. She appealed to reason, even in my emotional state. Because Paula knows I may have my flaws but if you can spell something out to me logically then there’s a damn good chance that it will make sense to me and I’ll be okay with it.”

  He pauses and takes a deep breath before blowing it out.

  “Well, when she told me how Penelope experienced first hand how I spoke about you and how much praise I laid on you that it was no wonder she looked at you in a favorable light. And then she reminded me that all the women back home always had a crush on you, and that it probably wasn’t just because we were in a small town with limited options. So that, and about a hundred other logical reasons she gave me over the next few hours started to calm me down a bit.

  And once I had the chance to sleep on it, and toss it around my brain a little while. Let it marinate up there and really kick the thoughts around, no matter how confusing and maddening they were…I could see what she was talking about.

  And probably the most important thing there was to see was what I saw on my baby girl’s hand the other night. I may have been angry and I may have acted impulsively and wildly, but in the midst of all my mayhem I did see one thing that tied it all back together and in the end? Well, it made it all right.

  You put a ring on her finger and that shows your intentions are genuine and true.

  This isn’t something dirty, or inappropriate. Hell, I had her at twenty. She’s practically nineteen now. So if she were to get pregnant in six months from now…”

  He pauses realizing he doesn’t want to think about that right now. I feel like I’m winning right now, so I’m not going to address that point.

  “Well, she’d be right on target. History would be repeating itself which it often seems to do.

  So I come here in peace. And I come here to congratulate you, if…

  …you can accept my apology.”

  There’s a lot of things I can say right now, but I think this isn’t the time or the place. It’s best to make hay while the sun is shining and call it a victory. Plus it takes balls for a man to admit he was wrong and I can admire that…especially when he’s my best friend.

  “I can and I do,” I say.

  He extends his hand and I waste no time filling his grip with my own.

  We shake, like old friends do.

  “But I think it’s a good idea if you have a word with Penelope when she’s awake. Ultimately this all boils down to what she thinks and how she feels.”

  “I feel awake and I think this is one of the best moments I’ve ever seen, especially between two stubborn old men,” a voice behind me says.

  I turn and see she’s in a T-shirt and jeans but clearly still in the process of waking up.

  “How long have you been back there?” I ask.

  “Long enough,” she says as she comes to my side and gives me a hug. Then she gives her dad a big long look before bursting out into tears and giving him a tight hug.

  I sit and watch the moment thinking how if this was any other man I wouldn’t allow this to happen.

  Her hugs are reserved for me and mine for her, especially ones this intimate.

  But this isn’t just some ordinary fellow. This is her father and my best friend.

  And this is the start of putting things back together again, and it looks like we’re on the fast track to a speedy recovery.

  But this hug does seem to be dragging on.

  “Okay enough you two. That’s my woman you’ve got your arms around, Peter,” I say.

  They release each other and I move in to wipe away Penelope’s tears.

  “Isn’t it beautiful dad?” she says showing him her engagement ring.

  “It looks like it perfectly belongs on your hands…and I know you’re perfectly safe and in good hands…with him,” he says as his eyes shift up to mine.

  And before I know what’s happening the three of us are hugging it out together, but I angle my body to keep Peter from getting more of a hug on Penelope than I get.

  She’s mine after all and I always protect what’s mine.

  EPILOGUE

  Penelope

  Halloween – one year later

  “Rah!” Bishop says at the height of the tension in the movie.

  I bury my head in his chest and grab ahold of him tight as we lie together on the couch, cuddled up this Halloween having a scary movie marathon together.

  For dinner I even made “broth of blood,” which was actually just tomato soup, hot dog mummies, complete with “blood” inside so when you bit into them it squirted out. It was just ketchup of course. Also there were witch’s finger cookies, where I used almonds for the fingernails. And the main course was “Halloween ribs” which were ribs, but I put a skull at the top and some sausages below for the intestines.

  I got pretty creative, and gory, to say the least.

  But we’ve somehow bonded over scary and gory movies. It was something neither of us was into before, but I think all the Halloween stuff reminds us of how we met so we like to kind of recreate that feeling as often as we can.

  And we’ve recreated some pretty intense moments from movies from time to time too, and these aren’t the kinds of movies you can get on Netflix. Whoops!

  But being nineteen now and Bishop being thirty-nine and working out every day it’s natural that we have a healthy sexual appetite for each other.

  Although I’d say Bishop might just be certified obsessed.

  The man cannot keep his hands off me!

  Even being five months pregnant he’s still chasing me around the house like we’re both a couple of teenagers.

  I hear a knock on the front door and wonder why whoever it is didn’t just ring the bell.

  “Is the light on?”

  “No, I turned it off before we started the movie. No distractions during ‘us time.’ That’s always been the rule.”

  “Hmmm. I wonder who it is.”

  We both get up and race to the door.

  “First!” we say at the same time which causes us to burst out laughing.

  Bishop opens the door and I can’t believe who I see standing in front of me.

  “Amber!” I say and lean down to give her a hug. It’s nice to be able to lean in to give someone a hug. I spend most of my days looking up to hug my big Bishop.

  “Hi Penelope. Hi Mr. Boudreaux. I’m sorry to knock even though your light isn’t on. I didn’t come by for candy.”

  “It looks like you made out as well as you did last year,” I say.

  “I did, but maybe even better…because of you.”

  “Because of me?”

  Amber looks up at her mother Ashley. I remember meeting her once and it actually seemed a bit contentious. She looks different now. Happier.

  “Penelope, I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we first met. It’s just…well…I didn’t really like the idea of her being in Big Brothers Big Sisters. It made me feel like I didn’t have my act together. But looking back now…well, I didn’t have my act together and it took something like that to make me realize it.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Amber’s little hand take her mother’s hand.

  “And when I realized just how much I didn’t have my life together, and how close I was to losing my baby…well you best believe this mother bear’s ears perked up and listened.”

  Oh my god I was not expecting this right now.

  “And I listened to what Amber said about the times
you two spent together. At first I was so angry I wanted to come over and give you a piece of my mind, and if I’m being honest, my fists. But I have to admit now, I learned from you. I listened to what my baby told me and I learned the things that made her happy and I knew if you could make her happy a couple times a week and only for a few hours, well her mama sure can make her happy too then. Am I right?”

 

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