by Aria Ford
“Nor do I. Maybe you’d better ask Santa.”
“Santa?” he laughed aloud. “Why?”
“Because apparently you’ve been a very bad boy this year.”
I pushed him back onto the bed and he laughed aloud. I straddled him and he looked into my eyes with a mix of wonder and trust. It made my throat hurt. I felt his hands reach up to my shirt and tug at it and I let him undress me with a tender urgency.
He stayed where he was, beneath me. We were both half dressed. He reached for one of my breasts and teased the nipple with his hand while I ran my fingers over that magnificent chest.
“You are stunning,” I whispered to him. He laughed.
“I should tell you every single day how stunning you are,” he said throatily. “Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to suck those breasts.”
I laughed. When he took my nipple between his lips and sucked, my body caught fire with all sorts of sensations. None of them were maternal.
Then he was sitting up and his hands were unfastening my trousers as I undid the button of his.
***
I was aching with longing beyond anything I had ever known as I lay Jackie down on the bed. I looked at her stunning, beautiful body with awe. This was the woman I wanted. This was the woman I would always want.
I kissed her neck and then turned her over. She made a little sound of inquiry.
“Can you trust me?”
She chuckled. “It depends.”
All the same, she let me roll her over onto her tummy. I looked at her back, with the sweet round buttocks all pink and inviting. I wanted to squeeze them but I fought for self-control.
“I want to spoil you,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if I could, mind: I had received loads of massage over the years, but had not actually given one. I found a tube of body lotion on her bedside table, rubbed it between my hands to warm it and rubbed it into her back.
She sighed. I took the noise to be approval and continued. It was nice to feel her back under my hands, her muscles hard and tense and as I worked on them, easing and relaxing.
“Mmm.” She moaned as I worked on her shoulders, and I wished I could spend forever doing just this. Rubbing her, touching her, pleasing her. Every noise she made sent shivers through me and made me want more.
I moved down to her butt. I resisted the urge to squeeze the firm, round shapes, working on massaging the muscle there too. I could smell her warm, musky scent and I wanted to bury my face between her thighs and move my tongue over those smooth, wet folds. But I didn’t.
I massaged her legs and her feet and then worked back up again, doing her arms and hands and finally her neck. I think she was sleeping by the end of it.
“Jackie?” I licked the small, dark earhole. She turned, a smile on her lips.
“That was wonderful.”
I smiled and we kissed. “Thank you,” I said modestly. She laughed.
“Well, then,” she rolled onto her back, taking my breath away with her beauty and making me want to kiss her all over here too. “I think you might have made me sleepy.”
“Very sleepy?” I asked, teasing. “How sleepy?”
“Very sleepy,” she said drowsily. “Want to find out?”
She parted her thighs playfully and I drew in a breath as my finger met her wet folds. She was certainly not tired down there. She was dripping.
I moved my fingers, sliding in the wetness, and she moaned. I knew her clit would be big and hard and throbbing and the thought made me aware, painfully, of how much I wanted her.
I looked into her eyes as I took myself in my hand and guided myself into her. She gasped. Closed her eyes and clenched her teeth.
I pulled out and pushed in again. This was the woman I had longed for. She was tight and wet and she took all of me, my cock throbbing and pulsing uncontrollably as she panted and whimpered and drove me to even greater heights.
I moved and thrust, moved and thrust and she was moving below me, panting and grimacing and crying out. Finally, she let out a huge cry, her whole body spasming below me. I sighed and let myself move, then. In. Out. In. Out.
I could feel my own orgasm growing inside me, building and building and then, overwhelmingly, crashing.
I found myself panting and shaking, helpless with the waves of pleasure that were flowing through me and around me and across me, drowning every one of my senses and carrying me far beyond myself.
I lay on her chest and she lay in my arms. My head rested on her chest beside her heart. I could feel it move under my face. I moved up a little, not knowing when I had felt so wonderful. I wasn’t sure if I could have felt this wonderful before.
Later, I rolled off her and slid out of her. I washed myself and her and then looked at the clock. It was dinnertime.
“Snooze first, then dinner?” I asked her. She rolled over sleepily and looked into my eyes.
“That, dear, sounds wonderful.”
I smiled and nodded and slid into bed beside her. With her head nestled into my neck, my arms holding her and her hand on my chest, I drifted off into sleep.
I was so happy.
I had found the woman I loved, and my daughter. I was a father. I could not have ever imagined anything that could have made me happier.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Scott
I couldn’t quite believe I was waking up next to the woman I loved. I breathed in, savoring the amazing feeling.
I looked across at Jackie. She was lying on her side, her face relaxed in sleep. Her lips moved, parted gently, as she breathed. I watched her. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, all her cares erased in sleep. I wanted to reach out to touch her soft, fluffy hair.
As I moved, she woke. Her eyelids fluttered open. She looked into my eyes. She smiled.
“Good morning,” she whispered. “Nice to see you.”
I smiled. “Nice to see you too.”
I felt my breath suck in as she stirred, rolling closer. Her body was warm on mine, her breasts pressing against my chest. I held her close, stroking her back as we lay together. We had been woken twice during the night by Stella, but I had been amazed by how deeply and regularly she slept. I had been expecting to get no sleep, if I thought about it.
Not that I always think of sleep when Jackie is close.
I felt my loins tense with longing as she pressed into me and I wanted to take her right there. My cock was throbbing and I was so, so ready. I stroked her and then touched between her legs. She was wet there, wet and warm. I played my fingers between her folds and she moaned.
“Do I get a greeting?” she said.
“I said good morning,” I whispered.
“You did. You said it, yes. But I was thinking something more…tangible.”
I drew in a breath as her hands slid down my chest and moved to my waist. She gripped me in her hand and I groaned aloud as her fist moved along my cock, squeezing it firmly yet gently.
“You do need a more tangible greeting,” I said, hearing my voice shudder. “And I would like to give you one.”
“Mm. Good.” She smiled.
I rolled over so I was kneeling between her thighs and then slid into her. I was shivering so much I gritted my teeth to hold back. I was so close! She moaned as I filled her and I felt all my self-control evaporate as I pounded in her faster and faster and faster…
I came and she came an instant sooner, our voices mingling in a cry that was in itself a thing of beauty.
I collapsed into her arms and lay on her chest, panting and shaking, perspiring madly.
She smiled and wriggled underneath me, holding me against her. I don’t know if we dozed or not, because my awareness was somewhere else for a long while, drifting somewhere in the haze following orgasm.
I heard her cough and rolled off her. “Sorry,” I said.
“No,” she smiled at me, her palm stroking my face. I shuddered with warmth and lay where I was a moment, my arms round her.
“I should go and check Stella,” she
whispered. “Be right back.”
As I listened to her talking softly to the child, I lay there, wrapped in the haze of delight and thought about how complete my life was.
Yesterday morning I had woken up full of dread, thinking that my father was about to succeed in pushing me into marriage with Alexa and that, more or less, life as Scott was ending. Now I had rediscovered the love of my life. And I had a child.
I heard the slight wail from the child subside into the soft sounds of sleepy contentment and felt my heart so full that it might burst. I slid out of the bed and went through to the sitting room to join Jackie there. As I watched my family, I knew that I was the happiest man alive.
I spent the morning with my new family. I would never have thought that such things as making breakfast, reading the paper or washing dishes could be so pleasurable. I had never, I realized, felt quite so happy about the simple facts of being alive.
Later, as it neared lunchtime, I realized I should go. I had to sort some things out. For a start, I had to make preparations for finding myself, Jackie and Stella somewhere to live. Then I wanted to propose properly—so there were some things to do about that. Then, lastly—because it was going to be the hardest part of all—I would have to confront my father.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that. Not only would I have to explain to him that I had fathered a child out of wedlock. I also had to explain to him that I couldn’t follow his directives in this anymore. I wasn’t his to marry off as he chose.
I looked at Jackie and Stella where they sat on the sofa together, fast asleep. I felt courage flood through me then. I could do anything for them. I just had to try.
“Jackie?” I whispered.
“I’m awake…” she opened her eyes and gave me a sleepy grin.
“I have to go, sweetheart,” I whispered. I kissed her and blew a kiss at my daughter’s sleeping face. I didn’t want to wake her. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Good,” she whispered. “I’ll see you after work.”
She took the child to a day care while she was at work, one of the perks of her job, apparently. I thought about how we could make another arrangement and decided to inquire about Au pair services. If we were both working, the least we could do was have Stella in the home she was used to, taken care of by someone we both trusted. That would make us both feel more secure. “Good,” I said. “I’ll see you soon, my gorgeous woman.”
She smiled, eyes still closed. Stretched languidly and patted the child’s head. Opened her eyes. “See you soon, dear.”
I walked out of that house feeling as if my heart was flying.
I spent the rest of the day in a whirlwind of preparations. By the end of it I was fairly confident I had found an apartment that was equidistant from both our work, with a month’s notice. I’d found a new baby stroller—she’d complained about this one—and an au pair agency.
When I went into work the next day, I had the fright of my life.
“Congratulations,” Mrs Atwood, the secretary, said to me. “You two are such a good match. Your father must be so proud…now your two companies simply have to be friends. Don’t they?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jackie
When Ashley told me the news, I was devastated. I had no idea why she would have mentioned it to me, since she couldn’t possibly have known about me and Scott. But she did.
“Did you see…we’re in for a big wedding in the news?”
“Oh?” I asked with mild interest. I was sitting at the table in the staffroom, my sandwiches on the table, munching through the whole-wheat bread.
“Yeah! The society wedding of the decade.”
“Whose?”
“Scott West, of course!”
“What?” I had known Scott was part of high society—by then I had found him on the West Incorporated website. But this?
“Yeah!” she said. She was sitting eating her own lunch. She lowered her sandwich slowly. “Why’re you staring at me like that, Jackie?”
“No reason,” I said dully.
I was in shock. As a psychologist myself, I recognized the symptoms. But there wasn’t much I could do about it. I stood and pushed my chair in, walked back to my tiny office as if in a dream. I sat down and switched on my computer. Went straight online to do a search for “Scott West Marriage.”
I sat with tears rolling slowly down my face as I looked at the pictures that came up. Scott and a tall, model girl with brown hair and red lips. The two walking in the park, at a party. On a rooftop. They were dating. Clearly. Why else would there be a picture of them kissing?
“No,” I whispered. How could he do this to me? Had everything he’d said been a lie?
I sat there for about ten minutes, just looking at the pictures. I couldn’t think. I felt as if someone had sneaked into my heart and switched it off. Nothing made sense.
“Jackie?” My other colleague, Barbara, came in. She frowned at me. “Hell, Jackie, you look terrible!”
I blinked. “I’m fine.”
She raised a brow at me, but nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure. Are you going to be at the football match this afternoon?”
I shook my head. “I need to go and fetch Stella from the daycare.”
“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll miss having you there. Hey—are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. I felt as if I was looking down a long tunnel, seeing everyone from afar. My words came up down the same long hallway. “I’m fine, Barbara. See you later.”
She left. Good: at last I can collapse. I slumped slowly forward in my chair and sobbed.
I let myself cry for a long time. It was better than the numbness, my professional mind noted dimly. I went to the bathroom and washed my face carefully, cleaning it off so that the kids wouldn’t notice I’d been sobbing. Redid makeup and went back for my round of appointments. I tried my best to be attentive and serious, but it was probably obvious my mind was elsewhere.
After work, I collected Stella from the able care of Ainsley at the daycare and drove home.
“Stella,” I murmured as I changed and fed her. “What are we going to do?”
Scott had just turned his back on us. He was out of my life.
I considered my options as I sat in the sitting room, my baby in my arms. We could confront Scott. But the media would be all over it. And if I appeared in the public eye I might ruin Scott—which, despite everything, I didn’t want to do. I loved him. I’d ruin me too. Quite apart from the impossibility of paying lawyers and things, I would face condemnation in the press and I didn’t want that.
“Okay. So confronting him is out. What else can I do?”
The first thing, the most appealing thing, that came to mind was to leave town. I didn’t want to stay here anymore. I didn’t want to drive to work down the street where I met Scott. Didn’t want to sleep in the bed we shared. Didn’t want to hear about the local celebrity.
“Uh.”
Stella stretched and yawned in my arms and I kissed her, my heart full of pain. I thought about leaving. If I left, what would happen to Dad? He was more stable, that was certain—something I suspected had a lot to do with Stella being here. He loved seeing her and that was changing his life.
I can’t take you away from him.
She seemed to know I was thinking about her, because she wriggled and looked up at me. My eyes locked with those gray ones and I felt so sad. How could Scott turn his back on her? I could even understand his issue about me—I mean, his family would probably disapprove of me and I wouldn’t fit in his social sphere. But how could he reject her too?
“There’s only one thing we can do. Talk to Dad about moving.”
If my dad moved too, then we could maybe all move into a small cottage together. My mind was already jumping ahead, making plans. I could hopefully find another job and we could share the rent. That would mean I could leave Dad to look after Stella and I wouldn’t have to pay for daycare. I wondered if I wasn’t maybe overestima
ting Dad’s capabilities there, but maybe he could manage. We’d have to see.
As soon as I’d had the plan, I enacted it. I lifted the sleepy Stella and put her in the traveling cot, then headed out to the car. It was my evening to check on Dad anyway: since he’d stabilized a bit I only went twice in the week and then on Saturdays.
“Dad?” I called as I walked into the kitchen. He was asleep in the sitting room—he opened one bleary eye as I came in, then grinned.
“Ah! There you are, sweetie. And my grandchild! How is she today?”
I smiled as he lifted her out of the carry cot and looked down at her with complete awe.
“She’s fine,” I said. My heart still felt sore, but the sight of my dad, his strong, veined hands holding the tiny baby, never failed to move me. “Dad?”
He noticed immediately that something was up. I loved him for that. He squinted at me. “What is it, baby?”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I started sobbing. I told him what had happened. Not the exact story—if Dad knew who the father of my child was, he’d probably track him down and “fix him”—his words, not mine—and I didn’t want Dad fixing him.
After I’d told him he sat back and looked at me. “What an asshole.”
I sniffed, laughing. Dad looked so mad. It made me feel better having told someone.
“Yeah,” I said with some feeling. “He is an asshole.”
“Well, baby, what do you want to do?”
I sighed. Dad had put Stella back in her cot—she was starting to wake up now, the noise of me crying had disturbed her—and he held my hand. I squeezed those strong, sinewy fingers and was so grateful to have him in my life.
“I don’t know. Dad, I think I want to move town.”
“Oh.” He looked horrified. He didn’t say anything, but his big blue eyes scanned my face brokenly. I was moved.
“Oh, Daddy. I don’t want to leave you. I want to take you with me.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Well. That changes things.”
I smiled. “Daddy, did I remember to tell you I love you?”
His eyes met mine and the look in them was so soft it moved me to tears again. “Baby. I love you too.”
