Rogue Acts
Page 30
She writhed wildly. Then, as usual, she grabbed the side of his head, pulled his face right to hers, and kissed him.
Sarah had done a lot that day, with almost everything planned, however quickly the plans had been made. She hadn’t expected to be quoted scripture as foreplay. She did expect this, though, when she kissed him, everything melted away: her worries, her fears, the reference of that damn Bible verse. Instead, heat, pleasure, desire, everything sizzled in and through her. And then she jumped when his hand stroked down her stomach and reached her pubic hair and kept going.
“Hey, it’s me.” Mark’s voice was deep and tender, and though she’d squeezed her eyes shut tight, she could hear the smile in his voice. “Your sister asked me some very pointed questions, and then gave me like five romance novels to read. There was a pattern.”
So she kissed him again, and let the fire take her away, and he slid his fingers between her legs into her. He found her clitoris and smoothed and circled it and she shivered in the fire, and then he reached further down and she realized she was hot and wet and that something was poking her. Right. That’s how this worked. She reached out to touch his penis and he shivered and swore. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked it and he prayed.
Okay, he just yelled out “Jesus!”
“Is that part of the pattern too?”
“No! Let go and let me concentrate. There’s a process, and I’m going to follow it.”
He followed it alright. His busy fingers worked and then he kissed her and she kissed him back and everything got fuzzy and fiery and when her tongue touched his, she shook and yelled and came. “Mark. Fuck.”
“Is that an imperative? Because it sounds good to me.” But first he kissed her cheek and whispered, “Hey, I love you.”
And then he grabbed the condom because they hadn’t decided about kids yet, gently pushed into her, and it was a little weird and stretchy, but his face and his first muttered expletive were enough for now, and when he started moving and moving and moving and then yelled “Oh Jesus Sarah” as he came with shuddering thrusts. And then he was heavy on her, his face in her neck. “Mmmmmm.”
“Hey, you’re squishing me.” But if she hadn’t needed to breathe again, she would have let him stay.
She was shattered by the intimacy of this moment after. No more expectations. Just skin to skin, peace together, them, him, home. It was enough. She wasn’t enough and he wasn’t enough, they probably wouldn’t change the world, but this moment, together, the one they’d waited for and struggled and sometimes had to explain to impertinent friends—she could carry this moment—and so many more, Lord willing—with her, and keep going, keep learning, keep loving her kids, and maybe he would apprentice with a tuck pointer, and work to restore the brick city, or maybe he’d get a counseling degree, and it would be hard and glorious and together. He rolled off her, slowly and carefully, and they both lay flat on the bed, their hands clasped, their sides touching.
Thank you!
Thank you so much for reading!
I have more stories planned about people of conviction pursuing justice and finding love. Sign up for my occasional newsletter to keep up to date.
I would love to hear from you! Visit my website, find me on Twitter and Facebook, or email me at janeleeblair@gmail.com.
Also by Jane Lee Blair
“My Delight Is In Her” in Rogue Desire
“Take a Knee” in Rogue Affair
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Miss Bates, Emma Barry, Gwendolyn Crane, Ruby Lang, Abby Norman, and Stacey Agdern for feedback and encouragement.
Thank you to my long-suffering family: sorry about all the late meals. Kids, I promise I’ll write a story you can read soon.
Thank you to Noelle Adams for writing the Willow Creek series and showing me there was a place for my real life in Romancelandia.
And thank you to Lucy Parker, whose London Celebrities books gave me a soundtrack for getting through the last two months of 2017 without getting any more hives.
About the Author
Jane Lee Blair has degrees in sociology and English, a pastor husband, four children, and a crumbly brick house in a Midwestern city. She loves reading, gardening, crocheting, and Twitter.
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