Redemption (Iris Series)

by Lynn, Rebecca

  “Jonathan, I swear. You’re not getting one fucking Oreo if you don’t stop,” she sputtered in hysterics.

  “All you have to do is tell me where they are, baby,” he chuckled.

  “Okay, okay!”

  He stopped immediately. The gleam in his eye told her he wanted to fuck her, which was fine by her because their little tickling war made her primed and ready. Trying to catch her breath, she gave him a saucy look and ran her finger over the snap of his jeans allowing her fingers to dip into the waistband.

  “How badly do you want that Oreo, Mr. White?”

  Before answering, he walked her back into the wall. “I have another cookie in mind at the moment.”

  “I bet you do, big boy,” she said, laughing. “Don’t burn that mac and cheese, champ. I want it.” She undid his jeans and put her hand in his boxer briefs, reaching for that glorious cock of his that was standing at attention.

  He moaned when she found it.

  She gripped it and squeezed. He leaned forward to kiss her, this time on her neck, scraping his teeth and sucking at her skin. He plunged his hand down her yoga pants, finding her wet and hot for him.

  “We have five minutes,” he said with a groan.

  “So the Oreo was only gonna tide you over for five minutes?” she whimpered, rotating her hips into his fingers.

  “Yup.”

  “Just so you know, I won’t need the whole five minutes,” she gasped, already close to the edge.

  “Just so you know, I can make you come in less than one,” he moaned in her mouth. “Oh yeah, baby. Creamy and sweet,” he murmured. He played with her, rubbing his fingers over her clit.

  She moaned, pumping him with her hand and frantically grinding into his other one while nipping at his chin.

  He curled the two fingers inside her forming a ‘come here’ motion, and slid them over her G-spot.

  “Ah!” She bowed up, then her heart rate kicking up another notch. “Fuck 60 seconds! I’m there in 10,” she gasped.

  She heard him chuckle just as her hand on his cock stopped moving. It couldn’t seem to remember what it was supposed to be doing to him as her own pleasure took over. She was a selfish bitch. She knew it. Her head thrashed against the wall, sounds escaping from the back of her throat of their own volition.

  “Come, baby. Give it to me,” he encouraged, his thumb pressing into her clit.

  She did, gasping and whimpering his name while coming all around his fingers. He captured her mouth with his, swallowing the sounds of her climax and gripping her hair with his other hand.

  She let the feelings take her as she fell over the edge. A moment later, slumberous and spent, she finally remembered that he hadn’t had any relief. Taking him in her hand with renewed purpose, she said with promise, “Your gentlemanlike behavior in making me always come first deserves a reward, JBG.”

  He hissed. His fingers were still inside of her, but she disengaged herself from him and moved away, turning him so he was now against the wall. Then she got on her knees. Her mouth watered as she licked her lips then made brief eye contact with him before swallowing him whole.

  He groaned through his teeth.

  She didn’t wait. She didn’t tease. She just went at him, determined to bring him release in record time. With vigor, she undulated her tongue along his shaft and sucked, swallowing over and over.

  He grabbed tufts of her hair and pumped lightly into her mouth.

  “Yan-na,” his voice stuttered on the syllables. “I’m close, baby. I’m close,” he groaned.

  She didn’t let up and reached her hand around to pump him while her mouth was latched onto him.

  He was moaning in earnest now, straining his hips into her. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” he warned with a growl. “Yan!”

  Then he exploded into her mouth.

  Ah, she thought. Success.

  She swallowed down every drop that came out of him, sucking him until he was finally done, his cock jumping slightly in her mouth. Sucking the tip one last time, she smiled up at him like the cat who swallowed the proverbial canary.

  His breathing was still a bit erratic, but with a contented smile on his lips, he reached his hand around to cup her face and pulled her up his body. She landed on him with a kiss, working his lower lip into her mouth and biting down on it.

  Before either of them could speak, they heard the oven timer beeping.

  They both smiled.

  “Dinner’s ready,” he said.

  ……

  “I can’t wait to meet your mom just so I can thank her for teaching you how to make this,” Ayanna groaned, savoring the creamy and delicious baked macaroni and cheese. “And kudos for the addition of the green salad. It’s a nice touch for those of us who don’t want to harden our arteries completely,” she said dryly.

  “The kielbasa is great, isn’t it? That Farmer’s Market had a really nice selection.”

  “It’s perfect, champ. Thank you for making it. It was nice to have a meal ready for me after chopping vegetables all day,” she said, taking another bite.

  “You know one of the things I love about you?”

  She smiled at the question. “What’s that?”

  “You’re not afraid to eat,” he said around his own food in his mouth.

  “Nope. I’m definitely not,” she giggled. “Ryann and I always say the only reason why we exercise is so we can eat whatever we want. Plus, being a chef gives me the freedom to truly enjoy food. I love the entire sensual experience. The presentation on the plate, the aroma, the flavors mixed together with the different textures. I love everything about it.”

  “It shows,” he murmured, a smile touching his eyes. “When you eat something you like, it looks like you’re about to get off.”

  The corner of her mouth tipped up. “Doesn’t everyone look orgasmic,” she paused and zeroed in on him thinking of their moment at the door, “when they’re eating something delicious?”

  “I know I look like that when I’m eating my favorite cookie...I bet I look like that eating Oreos, too. Ba dum bump.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Oh, brother.”

  He smiled, and she talked about the catering event planned for the next day, and he talked about getting ready for school.

  Eventually they started talking about their trip to Boston.

  “Are you still nervous?”

  “A little,” she shrugged. “Emily gave me props yesterday, so I’m trying not to let my insecurities get in the way.”

  “You have nothing to be insecure about. I promise.”

  “Have you brought a lot of women to meet your family?” She asked because she was sincerely curious.

  He shook his head. “Before you, only Dylan. And just for the record,” he paused, “my parents couldn’t stand her. Of course, they didn’t tell me this until after I broke up with her,” he finished dryly. “My mom expressed her concerns that we might be too young after we got engaged, but I didn’t realize how visceral of a reaction she had toward her. There’s no doubt about it. Some people are just really good at reading others, and my mom is one of them.”

  Ayanna was biting her lip, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. She hoped his mom liked her.

  “And you know what she’s going to say when she meets you?” he asked, looking at her tenderly.

  “What?”

  “She’s gonna say, ‘I like this one. She’s a keeper.’ She’ll love you because you keep me in line. And she’ll love that you’re a writer and a chef. She’s a big fan of the arts.”

  Ayanna got up from the table and walked up to Jonathan, who opened his legs and pulled her in between them while she was still standing. She grabbed lightly at his hair as he encircled her waist and looked up at her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Just being honest, babe.”

  “I told my mom I was in love with you when we were in the kitchen the other night. She wasn’t surprised and she thought you were a really
nice guy.” She waited, gathering her thoughts then she continued. “She wasn’t surprised because she could see how much I loved you, and I think she could see how much you loved me. I’m hoping your mom will see the same thing.”

  “I know she will,” he breathed and she leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips.

  “I’ll clean then we’ll have Oreos.”

  “I’ll help. The faster we clean, the faster I get my Oreos.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  She chuckled, leading him into the kitchen.

  ……

  They spent the night at her place. Jonathan was a sucker for her silk sheets and was determined to get a set for his own bed.

  Tuesday was a busy day for The Local Yokel, with their huge bridal shower luncheon. It was a success and by the time Ayanna got home at seven that night, she was dead on her feet. She and Jon were leaving for Boston the next morning and she still had to pack.

  While she was collapsed on her sofa, Jon had texted to see if she’d gotten home. When she responded, he came down to see her. He took one look at her, poured her a glass of wine, heated up some leftover mac and cheese, and walked over to the sofa. She picked up her feet so he could sit down, he handed her the glass and plate, then he took off her shoes and gave her what could only be described as the best foot rub ever.

  “Thank you,” she murmured sipping at the wine and taking a bite of the comfort food. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep, and I need to pack, champ.” She swallowed her food then yawned.

  “Just eat and relax.”

  “Mmm. If you say so.”

  She ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying his attention and ministrations. When she was done, he took her plate and moved it to the end table.

  “Why don’t you just close your eyes for a while. There’ll be plenty of time in the morning to pack.”

  “You obviously had no sisters or gay brothers if you think I can throw some things together in a bag at the last minute. Especially for a trip as important as this,” she said. “I was planning on modeling the outfits tonight so you can help me choose. Don’t straight guys do that?”

  He looked at her as if she had three heads.

  “What good are you, other than to give me phenomenal foot rubs after a long day, and toe curling orgasms?” She waited a beat. “On second thought, that’s precisely what you’re good for. Among other things.” She smiled.

  He smirked back. “What other things?” He pressed his thumb just under the ball of her foot and rubbed.

  She sighed at the sensation and looked at him languorously. “You’re good at cooking me dinner, at helping people plan their finances, at being kind, at being open, honest, loving, compassionate, protective...not to mention you look good while doing it. The list goes on, champ.”

  He kissed the top of her foot then continued massaging. “Just close your eyes and relax for a bit while I do this.”

  “Just for a sec,” she said, her voice drifting off as her eyelids drooped.

  The next time she opened her eyes, she was on the sofa with a throw placed over her shoulders. She looked over to Jon who was sitting in the armchair working on his laptop.

  “Hey,” she said groggily.

  “Hey, you.” He looked up with a smile and walked over to sit next to her on the sofa.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost 10.”

  “Ugh. I gotta pack, champ.” She yawned.

  “Okay. I’m happy to sit here and watch you model.”

  She smiled and touched his face. “That’s good. Because it’s too late to call Ryann. She’s an early to bed, early to rise kinda gal if you know what I mean. Let me get crack-a-lackin’.” She got up and skipped to the bedroom, now fully awake.

  She made a pit stop to the bathroom and by the time she had walked out she was groaning. She had gotten her period. No wonder she had been so tired. Her cycle was like clockwork because she was on the pill, and her schedule had been so crazy the last few days, that she had completely forgotten she was going to get it.

  She walked out of her bedroom and stood at the living room entrance watching him work, his eyes so bright and intelligent while he was figuring something out. He looked up.

  “Where’s your first outfit?”

  “I’m getting there, but I have some news first.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I got my period.”

  He looked at her as if waiting for her to continue then he said, “Um. Okay. That’s good, right? It means all your girly parts are working?”

  She sighed dramatically. “That means we can’t have sex for a few days.”

  He chuckled ruefully. “You survived 40 days...longer actually. You don’t think we can handle, what is it—?” He let his voice trail off, waiting for her to fill in the number.

  “Four days,” she grumbled. “It’s different now that I’m having it with you.”

  He laughed and got up, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her. “I think we can creatively find other ways to express love to each other, don’t you?”

  She leaned up and kissed him, cuddling into him. She was immediately comforted and gave him a sultry look.

  “You bet, Johnny Be Good. In fact, the first way you can express your love for me is to sit there and let me put on my fashion show. And you have to be honest if you think any of the clothes are too slutty. I don’t want to offend your parents.”

  “First of all,” he grabbed her face, cupping her jaw, “none of your clothes are slutty. They all make you look hot. I like your clothes.”

  “Not always, you didn’t.”

  “Let’s not talk about that, okay?” He cringed. “I was just being a jealous asshole.”

  “Still, you need to give honest feedback.” With that, she went back to the bedroom and began the hour long clothing frenzy. If he could sit through this, he would definitely be proving his love, she thought wryly.

  She opened up her drawers and got to work.

  Chapter 21

  The drive up the Saw Mill River Parkway, and then eventually I-84 and I-90 showed the foliage of New England in full bloom. Ayanna knew that in the next several weeks the leaves would turn to the autumnal beauty of russets, ambers, and golds. She hoped that she and Jon could take a drive up again to see it. The peaceful three and a half hour drive to Boston gave Ayanna and Jonathan time to enjoy the scenery and quiet conversation.

  Although Ayanna had been to Boston years earlier, she’d never been to the area where Jonathan’s family lived. Driving through Hartford, he talked about his childhood, his neighborhood, and younger brother, Mark.

  “So, Boston’s Back Bay is a fairly affluent neighborhood,” Jonathan began. “When the bay’s tidal flats were filled in in the late 1800’s, they began building up the residential area. The architecture is eclectic, lots of Victorians, but also French style, Gothic, Georgian. A big mix of history there. You know how I told you my mom loved taking us to museums?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Back Bay has the Museum of Science and the Boston Public Library, among many other sites. It’s a great area. Lots of boutiques on Newbury Street and some local restaurants I know you’ll appreciate. We can take some time tomorrow and go to Copley Square and take a stroll around.”

  “Did you grow up there too, or is that just where your parents live now?”

  “That’s where I grew up. My parents live in the same house as when I was a kid. I say house, but it’s more of a town home. It’s an old brownstone...three stories, tons of fireplaces. It’ll remind you a little of Jeremy’s place.”

  “Nice.”

  “It is. Still urban living, but it ain’t too shabby.”

  “Did you go to school in Back Bay?”

  He nodded. “I went to a private high school in the neighborhood. It was small, but diverse. And very challenging academically, but it really taught us how to think critically. The sports programs weren’t huge since the school was so small and that was sometim
es difficult, but Mark and I made up for it with community sports.”

  “Your mom teaches in a private or public school?”

  “Public,” he smiled. “That was kind of a bone of contention between my parents when we were kids. As a staunch Democrat, my mom wanted us to go to a public school. My dad, the eternal conservative, wanted private.”

  “How did he win that argument?” she laughed.

  “He’s a lawyer,” Jonathan shrugged with smirk. “But they compromised and my mom made sure we were involved in lots of community service and sports. They’re both big into giving back to the community.”

  “That’s where you got your moral compass. I love that part about you.” She settled in, enjoying hearing about his family. “So are you more like your mom or your dad?”

  He thought for a second. “Definitely more like my dad in temperament. Politically, I’m not as conservative as he is, but I think I tend to be more serious minded like him. My brother on the other hand is all my mom.” He chuckled.

  She loved hearing about this stuff.

  “How so?” she smiled, eager to hear about his brother.

  “My mom is an absolute pisser. Very funny, self-effacing, a bit of a prankster,” he grinned. “That’s totally my brother.”

  “How the hell did your parents get together?” she asked, already knowing she was going to love this story.

  “They went to BU together for their undergrad work and my mom knocked his socks off, or at least that’s how the story goes. We all figured my dad couldn’t stop laughing long enough to know what was going on and before he knew it, my mom had him snagged with a ring on her finger. They’re strict Catholics, so we all joke that he wouldn’t have been able to get away even if he wanted to after that.”

  “That’s awesome,” she giggled. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “She’s definitely a pip.”

  “And what does your brother do for a living?”

  “He’s an architect and runs his own business in the area.”

  “Will I meet him while we’re in town?”