“Shhhh. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothes.
“Yes, there is, so much to be sorry for. Please . . . please let me show you how sorry I am.” I’m desperate to be closer to him. To feel him all the way to my core. I need the touch of his hands to burn into my skin so I’ll always feel him inside me.
He’s only dressed in sweatpants. I grab at his waist, trying to undo the cord on his pants.
“Chrissy, hold on.” He tries to slow me down, but I’m on a mission. “Chrissy, stop,” he says again, trying to hold my hands away from his pants. He seems uncertain of what to make of this new side of me.
When I realize that his grip on my hands isn’t going to allow me access to what I want—what I need—I look up into his eyes and declare, “I swear, Ian . . .” I inhale and exhale, building courage. “If you try and stop me now, then I will walk back out of your life and you will miss the opportunity to see where this can take us.”
Shock? Confusion? Conflict? Yep, it’s all there in his expression. I know Ian wants me, wants this. But my outburst has him questioning. “Chrissy, I don’t understand. What’s gotten into you?”
“You, Ian Whitman. You have gotten into me.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, still holding my hands, rubbing his thumb along the outside of my knuckles.
I’ve let too much time come between us to wait a second longer. “Positive,” I respond instantly.
I wait as he searches my face until he sees what he needs. And then I watch as the white flag goes up.
“Fuck, come here,” he growls, and scoops me clear off my feet. He carries me inside the house and to his bedroom like I weigh nothing more than a feather, and he tosses me onto his king-sized bed. My hair splays all around my head.
Worried I possibly resemble Medusa, I begin to pat my hair down.
“Don’t,” he says, stopping me. “Don’t move. I need to look at you. I need to first make sure this is real.” He practically groans his demand. “Then I need to undress you and get reacquainted with every single part of your body.”
Oh, God, that voice is getting reacquainted with my core as we speak.
He presses his knee onto the bed and crawls up my body until our noses are practically touching. “I’ve missed you, Chris.” His breath skims my cheeks as his confession skims my heart.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“If this isn’t what you want, this is your last chance to back out. Because once I get started with you, I won’t let you go.”
There is something so hot and manly about his statement. If I was wearing panties, they would be soaked. “Then you better get to exploring.”
And then he dips down and takes my mouth like it was meant for his lips. I sense he’s struggling to go slow, but it’s as if he’s a man who’s been starved of what he craves. As if he’s been fighting a temptation that has a whole new level of appetite.
And Ian is hungry.
His greedy tongue works my lips open and he dives in, tasting and teasing me. The way he’s working my mouth is pure perfection. I moan into his, or he moans into mine, I’m not sure. He breaks away to work his way down my neck as he sucks and massages my skin with his tongue.
“Oh, Jesus almighty.” I tilt my neck, giving him better access. I’m already feeling flushed, my skin buzzing with desire.
“God, you taste like heaven.” Kissing his way to my ear, he bites my lobe. His hands roam up my ribcage, and he lightly brushes his thumb along the side of my breasts. The tender touch causes me to whimper, each sound I make cracking Ian’s control. “Hands up, Chris.”
I obey his simple request and my hands go above my head. He raises his right hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and brings his beautiful mouth back down, aligning our lips perfectly to once more devour my mouth. With his free hand, he tugs at my shirt, pushing it past my stomach, exposing my overheated skin. He breaks our kiss to jerk my shirt over my head and toss it aside. He sits up and I feel his gaze lingering on my breasts, which have most definitely grown since the last time we were in this position.
I hear him groan as he bends down, pulling my black lacy bra away from my right breast and pressing his wet mouth to my nipple. His tongue tickles my sensitive skin as he licks and sucks—I’m sure leaving a mark. I don’t care. He does the same hot damage to my other nipple.
God, when did this guy turn into such a sex pistol?
He releases my hands and wraps his fingers around my back to unhook my bra. With one quick snap, it’s off. He continues to undress me, unbuttoning my pants and yanking them down my hips and off my body. The audible groan that leaves his mouth is not missed. I snap out of my lust-filled coma to see him standing above me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, confused. No way is he stopping now. No matter if he decides he doesn’t like the merchandise. He’s just staring at me. Not at me, but at me. I adjust my line of vision to what has him in a trance.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
He takes his hands and swipes them down his face. “You’re not wearing any panties.”
Yeah, about those. “Is that a problem?” I ask, a bit amused but also impatient. I decide not to push him over the edge with mentioning the blue thong.
“You’re going to kill me before I even get a chance to taste you and be inside you again. You are going to fucking kill me.” He inhales, then exhales heavily.
I’m not sure if I should console him or smack him to get back on track. “Well, about that fucking you speak of? I was hoping we could get to that.”
Thankfully, he snaps out of his trance and gets to the matter at hand.
Grabbing my legs, he pulls me to the end of the bed and I squeal. I sit up on my elbows questioning his motive, until I see the hunger in his eyes. He kneels at the end of the bed and before I can say a peep, he goes for the gold. His mouth lands on my hot flesh and the first lick sends me falling back onto the mattress.
Man, he’s good at this. Like, oh, God, maybe too good.
His tongue goes wild, twisting and jabbing into my center as I pant and moan. My hands make their way into his thick hair and I grab on and pull. This rewards me with a deep growl from Ian and two inserted fingers. Holy smokes, did he just twist his tongue at the same time? That pretty much does me in. The fullness I feel from his two long fingers gliding in and out while his mouth eats me alive . . .
I begin to squeeze as I arch my back. I whimper his name, and then the room goes black as my orgasm explodes through me, sending a bolt of ecstasy up my spine.
Ian laps at me slowly as I come back down to earth. Once my body stops shaking, he stands up and pushes his sweatpants down his legs. I get a good look at the biggest surprise ever.
“Holy growth spurt,” I breathe out. Talk about growing with age.
Ian laughs and climbs onto the bed, covering my body with his. He makes it so our eyes are locked and our mouths are breathing the same air, out from one mouth and into the other. That’s how close we are.
“I guess you’re not the only one who’s filled out.” He chuckles as he dips to fill his mouth with my nipple. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, moving up my collarbone to my neck. “Every single piece of you, and each little sound that leaves those sexy lips of yours.” He ends his speech as his lips linger over mine.
I lift my head to connect, but he pulls away. “I plan to cherish you all day and night, but right now, I have to take you fast, okay?” His confession confirms his need and sends my body back to the starting line and I’m ready to go all over again.
“I want you to take me now, Ian. Please.”
I watch as he closes his eyes. When he reopens them, they’re glimmering with determination. And his focus is all on me. He leans over to the nightstand and opens the drawer. Pulling out a condom, I watch as he rips the package open with his sexy mouth and slides it onto his large length.
“Are you ready?” he asks one final time.
“Always.”
/> “God, I’m a dead man.” And then he slams his mouth onto mine. I wrap my legs around his solid waist, and with the perfect alignment, he pushes inside me. I think the dual moan was just heard two towns over. The feeling of being filled by this man is nothing less than extraordinary. Ian doesn’t move right away, trying to make sure I’m comfortable with our fit. “Are you okay?” he asks me.
Does a bear shit in the woods?
I don’t bother responding; I just clench my insides and push up against him, causing him to go deeper inside me. Yep, that did it. He needs no more confirmation. He begins to move and when I say move, I mean move. Pulling all the way out, and without warning slamming back into me. In and out and bam, again. I’m starting to feel like it’s not me who’s going to kill him.
I want this to last forever, because there is no better feeling than the way he’s gliding in and out, massaging my insides, but I lose the battle and again my orgasm blasts through me. Just as my back arches, Ian wraps a hand around my ass cheek and thrusts my body harder into his, allowing an even deeper penetration.
Holy orgasm marathon.
I didn’t think my flower was built this way, but as he rides me harder and thrusts faster, I feel a third orgasm building. I almost want to say this is a mistake. Maybe I blacked out and I’m just waking up hours later mid-fuck. Oh, God, even that sounds super-hot.
“Fuckin’ Christ, I can feel you squeezing me again. Let it go, babe.” He pumps into me again and again. I think he sounds just as shocked as I am.
“Again,” I gasp.
Then it happens.
His face tightens, and with his hand still firmly gripping my hip, he finally lets go. We skyrocket into ecstasy together, his eyes never leaving mine. And holy cow, his expression is breathtaking.
His body gives in and drops on top of mine. Just as quickly he flips me so I’m on top. We’re chest to chest as my arms and legs drape over his body. Our flushed skin is layered with sweat from the best workout known to man. I’m going to thank him for the magic he just worked on my vagina, but before I do, I close my eyes and pass the fuck out.
I WAKE UP TO the gentle strokes of strong fingers gliding up and down my naked back. The goose bumps that cover my sensitive skin remind me of the most amazing morning I’ve had in, well, ever. I lift my head and turn to catch Ian’s mouth landing on my shoulder blade.
“Good morning,” he purrs into my skin and moves inward to kiss the side of my mouth.
His voice, so low and soft, sends little lust bubbles to my lower region and once they hit their mark, they pop, giving me a jolt of hormonal pleasure. I open my mouth to say good morning back, but I fail and moan instead. I hear Ian laughing. He knows he’s got me.
“So . . .” he begins, pushing a strand of my flyaway hair out of my face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to ask, okay?”
Oh, great. Here we go. The infamous questions. Why can’t we just see where this goes? No plans, no—
“Where’s Pippa?”
—labels, no . . . who? Oh, yeah! Pippa. “Oh, she’s with Henry and Patti. Sleepover,” I state matter-of-factly.
I spot relief on his face.
“Why?” I ask suddenly, not liking that look on his sexy face.
“I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t waiting in the car or anything.”
“You thought I left her somewhere. Like forgot her?” I scrunch my nose and narrow my eyes at him.
“Well for starters, I already got up and checked the car, so no. I didn’t think she was there.” He gets ready to block any incoming swings. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you don’t have much experience with kids, and I wanted to make sure is all.” He looks guilty for asking.
And he should, dammit! I would never have just left Pippa in the car while I came in and had the best three orgasms of my entire existence. I’m not that devoid of miniature human skills.
“Still always in your head.” He interrupts my internal argument by flipping me fully onto my back and sliding on top of me. I love how strong he is and that he can just maneuver my tiny self into his preferred positions. It reminds me of this morning and how many times he adjusted my legs and my body and—
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Oh, just wondering if you still have those sexy flannel sheets,” I tease.
He laughs. “Would you judge me if I said I did?”
“I would tell you to go get them and put them on this bed,” I say softly.
“The last time we made love was on those sheets,” he says, “in my room before you left.”
It feels like a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time.
He puts his fingers into my crazy mop and comes closer to unite his lips and mine. And let me state for the record his lips are to die for. I hum my satisfaction into his mouth and wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer so we’re chest to chest. I can feel his excitement growing hard against my belly with each lick and tug of our tongues.
“I have to ask,” I mumble when I break free for air. “Why hasn’t someone snatched you up? Married with a handful of kids running around?” Because inquiring minds and hearts want to know.
After kissing me senseless, he pulls away to answer. “Sometimes the heart knows what the heart wants.” He pauses. “And it just never seemed right to fill it with something that wasn’t real, just to pretend to be full.”
Okay then! He wins. Stick a fork in me. I’m done.
“Kiss me,” I demand with only one intention in mind.
And boy oh, boy, does he do just that.
ONE THING THAT’S CHANGED since we were love-crazed teenagers rolling around in the sheets is the added responsibilities of adulthood. Ian does have a job to do and there’s a four-year-old needing our presence, so we finish making out to get ready for the day.
His idea of a co-ed shower turns into hot water gone extremely cold by the time we finish the most amazing and unspeakable things in that space. I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not a bit sore, but who would have thought one can bend that way?
Ian ends up having to call Amber to let her know he’s going to be in a bit late this morning. Of course, while he informs her of his impending tardiness, it seems fitting that I throw in a few jabs by giggling in the background and telling him to get back in bed. Ian just looks confused at my odd behavior, and even more so at the sudden silence when Amber hangs up on him.
Winner.
Moving on, we throw on clothes and head out. I call Patti on the way and hear that Pippa is still in one piece and Henry has already dropped her at school. Pippa insisted they drive the whole way with the lights on and poor ol’ Henry allowed her to scream into the megaphone all the way through the neighborhood.
Running into the center holding hands, we pass Greg, whose jaw drops at our PDA.
Unfazed, Ian places a wet kiss on my still-swollen lips. “Have a good day, dear,” he says as he smiles at Greg and saunters down the hall.
I’m still reeling when I turn in the opposite direction toward the art room and see Amber standing in the doorway to her office with her bitchy arms crossed over her fake breasts. I should really talk to her sometime about her RBF. Resting bitch face is a serious issue for some women.
There are the perfect responses for times like this and this one is definitely a raise-my-hand-and-model-wave-at-her, just before I turn on my pretty stilettos and head to my room.
To have a good day.
I’m in the stock room once again, digging through the supplies, making one more attempt at the inventory. The kids are drawing trees.
Another psychology lesson: drawing trees can reveal one’s ego and ambitions. A droopy tree can symbolize depression or lack of spirit, while a tree with flowers and fullness can symbolize happiness and love. The tree I demonstrated to the kids might have been a bit much since my example took the whole page and looked like every bright color in the crayon box threw up on it. If they were smart, they would pin me as happy. Possi
bly in love. Again.
Okay, totally in love.
I’m sighing into the paint boxes as I count. I have no idea how this is going to work. Cornelius is expecting me to return to work any day now, and here I am, playing teacher of the year like it’s my regular day job. I have all my things in a penthouse that I plan on never stepping foot in again, but I do have footing back in San Francisco. My job for one. Friends, a life.
Ian’s going to ask me again soon. I know it. How long do I plan on staying? Do I plan on staying? In a perfect world, I want to stay and play house with Ian and Pippa till the end of time. But perfect worlds are as real as the tooth fairy, and I need to grow up and start making some big-girl decisions.
I finish my list and head out to check on the progress of the kids. Greg is standing by my desk with his artwork in hand. “Are you finished already?” I ask, dumping my pad on the desk.
“For reals, Ms. C. This tree thing was easy. You need to bump up the difficulty level tomorrow.”
“We’ll see.” At that, I smile, take his picture from his hands and examine his work. Understanding spreads across my face. “Ah, I see you’re a right brainer.”
Greg looks totally confused. “Say what? I have both sides of my brain, Ms. C.”
I laugh. “What I mean is you’re a right-side thinker. The right side of the brain is supposedly tied to artistic creativity.”
Yep, still lost.
I turn his picture around so he can take a better look at his own work. “I asked you to draw a tree. What did you draw?”
He’s staring at me, then moves to study his drawing. “Well, for the tree trunk I drew myself. The branches are my long hands, and the leaves are basketball hoops. Hanging from the hoops are balls.” He stops and looks at me, determining if he gave the right answer or not.
I smile proudly. “Exactly. I asked you to draw a tree. What you did was draw an abstract. You went beyond the physical realm of the object in question. Broke away from the traditional representation of the subject. The colors and objects you used are nothing that would symbolize a literal tree. You’ve created an emotional representation instead. I don’t see any bark colors you’d find in nature, but you used reds which symbolize liveliness. I assume the added basketball stuff is because that’s an inner passion branching out?” I stop to wink at him.
My So Called Life (Love Not Included Series Book 3) Page 11
