by Lexi Whitlow
Once more I press my lips to hers and I kiss her, letting our tongues reacquaint themselves with one another. It’s been too long. I missed kissing her.
“Are you still feeling ill?” I ask her, finally breaking the kiss.
She shakes her head. “Not now. I was before and I probably will again, but right now I’m okay.”
“Then you need to eat something now, while you can.” I roll off the bed and retrieve the room service menu. Thirty minutes later, a knock on the door delivers our meals.
I watch Avery eat like I’m a lion guarding his pride at the site of the kill. I want her to eat her fill and I want her to keep it down this time. She’s eating for more than just herself.
She starts with cheesecake – whatever works – then dives in with carnivorous abandon to a medium rare cut of beef tenderloin.
“Oh my god, this is so good,” she mumbles, her mouth full. “I feel like I can finally eat. Oh yes,” She smears sour cream on her baked potato, then gobbles a mouthful. “It needs more butter.” She reaches for it and smears it on.
This is wonderful. She’s eating again. She’s been picking at dry toast and humus for weeks.
“Your parents did not react well to me confronting them with that report,” I say, broaching the subject she tried to open earlier.
Avery stops chewing and looks up at me, a wary expression darkening her lovely blue eyes.
“Keep eating,” I tell her, pointing my fork at her steak. Then I tell her everything, from leaving her apartment in the morning before she woke up, until the moment I saw her on the highway walking down that exit ramp.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” I admit. “Thinking of all the different ways I might have lost you. Please don’t ever take off on your own like that again. And if you’re ever in a car that breaks down, stay with it. Please. Promise me.”
“Okay,” Avery says. “One one condition.”
She’s got conditions. Okay.
“I want you to show me how to change a flat tire, and change the oil, and properly add coolant. I want to know how to read a road map. I want to know how to balance my checkbook and figure interest on a loan. These are the kinds of things that I never learned, because no one ever thought I should know them. And I know there are a thousand other things I don’t know that I should, that I can’t even think of.”
That’s my girl.
“That’s a deal,” I say. “I can do all that.”
“Good.” She grins at me. “I’ll tell you one thing I did right.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“I got cash before I hit the road. Cleaned out my checking account – almost twenty thousand dollars. The Thomas political machine may be smart, but it can’t track cash. I know you’re worried they’re on our tail, but unless they followed you, I’m pretty sure we’re clear of them.”
I know they didn’t follow me, but I also know we’re not clear of their reach until we’re on foreign soil.
“You went for a walk down the I-5 by yourself, with twenty large in your purse?” I ask her, forking a mouthful of asparagus.
She grins. “Pretty brave, eh?”
“Pretty stupid, eh?” I respond. “You ever do anything like that again and I’ll turn you over my knee and teach you what a spanking feels like. For real.”
She frowns. “I thought I did good.”
I take a breath. “You did good. You just did some really reckless stuff too. But… it all turned out okay. Luckily.”
I figure that Avery is correct. No one is close on our heels, not anytime soon anyway. I want her to rest. I want her to absorb everything that has happened. I want her to feel safe.
After we eat, while Avery showers, I call a local mechanic’s shop to get the Honda towed from the highway and repaired. I explain that it may take awhile to get the car picked up, but I’ll pay for the work as soon as it’s done.
“I may have a guy who can drive it to California – for a fee – and get the bus back,” the owner offers.
I like that idea a lot. We arrange it.
Avery comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white robe courtesy of the hotel. Her hair is wet and clean, and has just a hint of curl coming back to its texture. I reach out and run my fingers through it, feeling the waves in my palm.
“I love you, Avery,” I say.
She smiles up at me, running a towel through her locks. “I love you too, Maddox.”
It’s the first time she’s ever come right out and said it that way. Hearing it makes my heart swell, my throat close, and my dick twitch. I realize I’m afraid to think of her in that way now that I know she’s carrying our child.
She steps toward me, loosening the belt on her robe. She takes my hand in hers and slips it inside the robe, placing it on her breast.
“I’m not fragile,” she says. “And I feel fine right now. In fact I feel pretty good. I’m maybe ten weeks pregnant. I don’t know yet. But I know that I feel a lot better than Idid.”
She smells like strawberry shampoo. She smells good. Her skin is hot, warm, and soft. I breath her in. I kiss her.
She meets my kisses eagerly, her tongue mingling with mine. Her hand slips to my waist and then around the small of my back, pulling me into her, while she returns my kisses with heat.
Her breasts, slightly swollen and hard, press against my chest.
“Make love to me,” she says. “I need to feel your skin on my skin so I know this is really real.”
Oh, my sweet girl, it’s real.
She hooks her fingers into my belt loops and pulls me backwards, walking with her, toward the bed. She grins and falls back into it’s plush covers and I tumble over her, catching myself, looming above her. I don’t know what’s safe at this early stage of her pregnancy, so I take it very easy. Her robe slips away, revealing her full naked body, gentle curves and milky white skin where she’s not pink with sunburn. I kiss those tender spots and then gently nip her breasts. Avery’s back arches high, pressing her belly up to meet mine at this attention.
“So sensitive,” I observe, teasing.
She agrees. “Unbelievably so.” She touches the nipple of her right breast and bites her lip. “I think I really like it.”
I follow her lead, nuzzling her tits, sucking nipples, tweaking them between my fingertips as I lay down kisses from her pubic bone to her sternum. She responds with little moans and purrs, but her hands urge me impatiently for more than foreplay. She tugs at my shirt, trying to pull it off. I help, unbuttoning it, shrugging it off my shoulders and casting it aside. Then I slip my belt loose and undo my button and zipper. Avery slips her hand inside my jeans, finding me hard against her fingers, begging for release from clothing.
“Come out and play.” She half giggles, sitting up, shoving my jeans off my hips with her free hand.
She strokes my cock expertly, working her fingertips against the base of my shaft while her palm presses firmly, pulling me to full length. Then she leans forward and takes me into her mouth, sliding my cock between her lips, wrapping her tongue around the head, lapping and sucking. I let my head tip backwards as I feel the exquisite pleasure of her attentions. My mind slips into oblivion, every thought fleeing except the drowning pleasure of this moment. There’s nothing except my cock and her hands and her mouth and the idea that I want to come hard – right now.
I push that idea away and snatch some focus back from the mind-numbing pleasure Avery is giving me. My hands fall to her shoulders and I very gently urge her backwards. She protests, without breaking her sucking, teasing rhythm, and even the subtle vibration of her whining sends a jolt of ecstasy into my core.
I don’t want to come in her mouth, but I’m close – so close. And it feels so fucking good.
“Baby – stop. Please. Please.”
Looking down at her, with her beautiful full lips wrapped around me, my balls in her hands, is just about enough to make me explode. Then she looks up at me, those blue eyes gleaming, a smile creeping i
nto the corners. She’s enjoying it almost as much as I am.
That’s it. I press her shoulders backward, forcing her off me, then I push her down onto the bed.
“You didn’t let me finish my work.” She complains, her fingers crawling up my belly, tracing the contour of my abs.
I reach low, past the soft downy fur between her legs and slip a finger in, feeling her wetness. She’s positively soaking. Her eyes close with my touch and her hips rock hard to meet me.
“Inside me,” she begs. “Fuck me. Now.”
I hesitate, even as I part her legs with my knees, hanging above her, taking her in. I don’t want to hurt her – or the baby.
“Is this safe?” I ask her, pressing my hard-on against her belly as her body begs for me.
“Yeah.” She almost laughs. “Yeah, it’s fine. Like I said. Women’s bodies aren’t as fragile as everyone likes to think.” She finds my cock with her hand and guides me.
I slip inside her, blinded momentarily by the intense pressure and heat of her enveloping muscles taking in my full length. I’m anxious. I wait for her to set the rhythm, her body riding up to meet me, her hips rocking against mine. I breath deep to regain my focus. I don’t want to hurt her. I have almost no concern for my own pleasure – I’m too concerned for Avery – but I press in when she asks me to, and go deeper still as she comes hard underneath me. I feel her shudder and quake, trembling beneath me.
I see her laughter and smiles as she recovers, then feel her grip my ass with pressing hands that urge me on.
“It’s okay,” she says, running her fingers through my hair. “You can’t hurt me.”
I hope she’s right. I move in gently, rolling in, trying to be easy.
“Maddox. Fuck me hard,” she says. “C’mon. Don’t be afraid. It’s okay.”
I’m not convinced. I’m scared of losing control and being too rough with her.
I’ve shot people. I’ve pulled dead guys onto helicopters and tied off destroyed limbs on barely living men to keep them from bleeding out. I’ve defied orders to save lives, and killed people despite orders to the contrary. I’ve blown up sixty million dollars worth of government property to keep it from falling into enemy hands. But I have never – not even once – had sex with a woman who was pregnant with our child.
Avery shoves my shoulders backward. “Roll over,” she demands, pushing hard.
I find myself on my back with her on top, sitting on top of me, my cock buried deep inside her, her hips grinding against mine.
“I’ll fuck you,” she growls, almost threatening, leaning forward, pressing her round, firm tits into my chest, her clit hard against my shaft as she draws me out and then sucks me back in.
My hands fall to her hips, gripping the soft skin of her ass cheeks. She’s so warm. Her pussy so hot and so incredibly tight, wrapped around my cock as she rides me, shoving me into her, then pulling out. Every nerve in my body fires looking up at her, holding her, feeling her drive. She owns me.
She finds the pace and moves with it, burying me deep and then rising up, teasing the head of my cock with her muscles, pinching me hard.
“Oh fuck,” I hear myself say. My head rolls backward. My eyes squeeze closed. I feel my balls draw up as the tension at my belly tightens to a spring loaded coil.
“That’s it,” she urges me on, her hands falling to my chest while she grinds, moving me in deep and then drawing back slowly, teasingly.
“Oh fuck.”
I can’t stand it. I wrap my hands around her ass and in a second I’ve got her underneath me, my cock inside her, thrusting hard and deep. I’m suspended above her looking down, meeting her eyes as I feel her legs wrap around my hips, her body rising to mine in a pumping rhythm.
“That’s it,” she says again. “Just like that.” She comes again easily, giggling into my chest with wave after wave of throbbing orgasm as I punch into her. Then I feel my coil break and release, shoving a million volts of pent up angst, fear, and frustration from the day, releasing all at once in one massive, jettisoning explosion inside her.
I hear Avery cry out, her fingers digging into my back, stinging me.
I pull back. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
She’s crying. I see the tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. I’m terrified I’ve hurt her.
“No Maddox,” she says, breathless. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
Her arms slip up around my shoulders. She hugs me tightly while her hips rock slowly, her body still quivering against mine.
“You make me feel so perfect. This is perfect.”
It’s perfect to me too.
We will figure all of this out. Not by the time we get to Vancouver, probably not even anytime soon. But with the help of friends like Ella, her Aunt Bebe, Salvatore and a few others we may not have even met yet, we’ll find our way. We have one another to take care of, and a baby on the way. Nothing is ever really perfect, but sometimes it’s not far off if you keep your priorities in order. I know what my priorities are now. I love Avery and our tiny potential of a family. I’ll be the best for her that I can possibly be. Beyond those basic facts, not much else matters.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Avery - November 5, 2018
“Okay, I’m sick of the news,” I say. I lean back on the couch in our Vancouver apartment. “And I’m sick of the election. I just want it to be over. I don’t want to see my mother or father on TV again.”
Ella is visiting for an impromptu baby shower that I expect isn’t so impromptu. I think she knew it would be hard for me to get through the November election without her. So she’s here, sitting at the kitchen table, chatting with Maddox and eating a hefty portion of his French toast. The news is on mute behind them, and I hide my face from it.
Ella turns it off of mute. “Trust me. I was up last night when I got here, and I saw it before you did. You’re going to like this.”
The Canadian reporter talks with her clipped accent and round Os. I’m falling in love with it here — and the people have a lot to do with it. I feel like everything that happened in California is so far away now.
“… it was found that the Senator from California, Evelyn Thomas was embezzling money from her campaign funds. Yes, that’s right, Stewart. She has hundreds of thousands in misallocated funds.”
There’s a man next to the women, nodding and then shaking his head in disapproval.
“This is impossible.” My stomach ties in a knot, and my mouth drops open. “They paid us to keep quiet.”
“And apparently, they paid you from their misallocated motherfucking funds,” Ella says, taking a triumphant bite of toast. “Just listen.”
Maddox looks at me and shrugs, smiling.
“Yes, it appears that Senator Thomas and General Thomas were using money from campaign donors for a private investigator and for other personal expenses which have not been disclosed,” the man says.
There’s a shot of my mother in her office, face pale, eyes surrounded by dark gray circles. “I told the press I would not speak to them. This is between me and my lawyer.”
Nothing else. She shuts them down just like that. No apology to her constituents. Nothing else.
The TV screen flips back to the woman reporter. “It goes on like this, with her saying nothing and refusing to comment to the press. There hasn’t yet been talk of law enforcement involvement, but it does appear some of the misallocated funds also went to illegal enterprises. There may also have been some voter tampering in her home district of San Francisco. We’re not entirely sure at this point.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “What the hell is going on? None of the three of us was supposed to release any of the information we found.”
“None of us did,” Maddox says. “But there were other people who knew about Evelyn’s little games. They might have been nudged in the right direction to spill some information. Not everyone can be bought off by Evelyn and Richard Thomas. There are some people in this country who’d r
ather see someone honest win.”
“And needless to say, Mrs. Thomas is now withdrawing from the Senate race. I do believe her bid for president is no longer a factor in the next election…”
The woman keeps talking, and the man backs her up with more details. The three of us listen in silence as the speculation continues.
“If they paid us with misallocated funds …” I say at last.
Maddox looks at me and shakes his head. “They didn’t. They paid us from their personal accounts. I made sure of it. And your trust fund is still protected. We’re fine.”
Ella sighs. “I thought we had our hands on some dirty money,” she says, laughing. “Well, we’re okay. Your parents aren’t. How do you feel about that, baby?”
My best friend comes and sits down next to me, putting her hand on my belly.
My head swims. “I’m not sure what to think.” I swallow hard. It’s tough to hear that your parents weren’t even as good as I thought they were. And my opinion of them was lukewarm at its very best. “So they weren’t just spying on me with that money?”
“No,” Ella says gently.
Maddox comes and joins us on the couch. “It appears they were doing a lot more than that. Your dad may well get stripped of his rank, and your mom is likely to lose her job, her bid for reelection, and her reputation.”
I close my eyes and think about what they did to me and more — how they treated Maddox. “Good,” I say. “That’s nothing less than she deserves.”
“That’s a fact,” he says, but he takes his hand in mine. I feel the warmth of his presence, his protection. And I let it give me strength. “But what’s good about being an adult is that you get to build your own life. Your own family. I learned that in the Marines.”
Ella nods. “And here, you’ve got Maddox. And Bebe. And probably me when I finish up this degree. Vancouver is just as good as San Francisco.”
“It’s growing on me,” I say.
The baby kicks — hard — and I put Maddox’s hand to it. “She agrees with you guys.”
Maddox swallows hard, and I see tears at the corners of his eyes. For a tough-as-nails marine, he’s already insanely emotional about his daughter.
