Along Came Love

by Tracey Livesay

  She crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and stretched it down and away from her body. Undulating her torso counter-­clockwise, she lifted the garment over her head in one fluid movement and let it fall off the bed.

  Score!

  She shook her head, letting the fall of her braids hide her exhilarated smile.

  Almost done . . .

  She reached behind her and undid her bra, tossing it in a wide arc to land on the floor across the room. His eyes followed the garment, but snapped back to her form, as if he couldn’t wait to see what she did next.

  Hiding her smile, she bent forward and shimmied her shoulders, letting her breasts jiggle. She palmed them, holding one in each hand and then compressing them together, so they met in the middle of her chest, squeezing her throbbing nipples between her index and middle fingers. She arched her back and tilted her head to the side, letting him take it all in, before falling back onto her elbows, her legs crossed, her body completely naked.

  The air in the room was so charged she could feel sparks of electricity dancing upon her skin.

  Mike cleared his throat. Twice. “What the fuck was that?”

  “Bartender in a Burlesque club. Vegas.”

  She blinked and he was out of his pants. He growled and pounced on the bed, yanking her ankle so she fell flat on her back as he hovered on all fours above her.

  “Look at me.” He gritted his teeth, determined to get the words out despite the effort it cost him. “No more running away from me. I’m in this for the long haul and we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  He leaned forward and braced himself on his elbows, so he didn’t burden her with his weight. When he slid into her, the intimate fullness of their joining made her dizzy.

  He froze and his brows slammed together. “Is this okay? You on your back?”

  She was more than okay. She was tremendous, fantastic, exceptional. Nothing had ever felt this good. How had she ever thought she’d be able to put it behind her and move on?

  She nodded and tightened her inner muscles around him. He mumbled something inaudible and began to slowly stroke inside her, the ridges of his engorged cock grazing against her sensitized flesh with each joining and departure.

  She slid her fingers through the hair at his nape, down the sides of his neck, across his shoulders. She wanted to touch him everywhere. She couldn’t be close enough, wanted to take all of him, to consume him and be consumed by him.

  “I’ve missed this pussy. It’s mine . . .”

  Ooh, dirty talk. Yes . . .

  “Ahh, this pussy missed you . . . fingers and vibrator not cutting it . . .”

  “ . . . vibrator not doing it right. You’ll have to show me . . .”

  She raked her nails into his defined pecs, dragged them down his abs and around to his firm ass, squeezing the flesh and trying to bring him closer, but it was physically impossible.

  Her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow, the pleasure almost too intense to handle. He captured her mouth with a kiss, stilling her while quickening his pace. It didn’t take long to revive the tingles that pulsed in her lower belly. They’d lain dormant after the first time, but they’d never gone completely away. They roused and sparked to life and she strained for them, eager to experience the fireworks again, only this time he’d be there with her. So close . . .

  “Mike, baby, don’t stop . . .”

  She lifted her hips, met him thrust for thrust.

  “That’s it. You’re so fucking beautiful when you come. Come for me . . .”

  His words tipped the scales and sent her soaring as light exploded behind her eyelids and her body shuddered and quaked in the stunning aftermath of her climax. He sped up his pace, his movements losing all semblance of coordination and control as his body slammed into hers and he roared her name, following her into the chasm.

  When she’d finally taken in enough air to speak, Indi said, “She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.”

  He lifted himself off her and she smiled at the dazed, clouded look on his face. He peered down at her. “Who?”

  “The fabulous and fertile celebrity mom from that pregnancy book. My sex dreams couldn’t hold a candle to you.”

  INDI LAY ON Mike’s chest, his arm thrown casually around her shoulder, her fingers trailing across his smooth skin. His heart beat soundly beneath her hand. They’d cracked opened the glass doors a little while ago, and the faint sounds of the crashing surf struggled up to serenade them. She hadn’t wanted to disturb the peace they’d managed to find, but something was nagging at her and she needed an answer.

  “When I talked to your mother last night, she mentioned you used to be different when you were younger. More carefree and easygoing. At first I thought she must be joking, but she wasn’t. She didn’t say what happened, just hinted something had.”

  He exhaled and Indi’s head rose and fell with the movement. “When I was sixteen, I disobeyed my parents and snuck out on a school night to hang with some friends. I knew I wasn’t supposed to—­my gut was telling me it was wrong and I could hear my father’s voice in my head—­but I was so tired of his goddamn lectures.”

  He lifted his head and braced his folded arm behind it. “They’d been drinking before I even got there. I figured I’d stick around and make sure everyone got home safely, only . . . one of the boys wanted to climb the cliffs. I told him no, but he didn’t listen, and the other guys kept egging him on, so I got annoyed. I started to leave, but then I heard this yell. I turned and I saw Greg—­ He’d lost his balance. That moment where he teetered on the edge—­ I tried to run back up and—­I don’t know, grab him and pull him back—­but it was too late. He fell and broke his neck.”

  Though there had been some starts and stops, he’d delivered the entire tale in a flat monotone.

  She gasped. That’s not what she’d been expecting.

  “No! Oh, Mike. Baby, I’m so sorry.” She threw her arms around him as a slight tremor coursed through his body.

  “It was my fault. I knew we shouldn’t have been there. If only I’d tried harder to convince them not to climb the cliffs.”

  He squeezed her close even as he threw an arm over his eyes. She pressed soft kisses across his chest and up the side of his neck, wanting to impart any comfort she could.

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  “No. We all told the police what happened. The other kids got citations for drinking in public. A boy died and I got nothing. I should’ve listened to my dad.”

  She wasn’t going to sit there and witness his self-­flagellation.

  She grasped his chin in her hand and turned his head to face her. “You were a kid. You did what kids do. You snuck out to be with your friends. You didn’t drink. You definitely didn’t push him. Those were his choices.”

  “But I was the sober one. If I’d only tried harder to talk them out of climbing the cliffs—­”

  “I want you to think about what happened and how much blame you’re carrying around today. Then I want you to pretend Nugget had been in your situation.”

  He hissed and his body actually jerked beneath her hands.

  “Would you want him to suffer the way you are? The correlation between what happened and your responsibility for it isn’t accurate. Let the guilt go. It’s not contributing to anything. It’s only eating you up inside.”

  He pulled in a deep shaky breath and closed his eyes. She hoped he was considering what she’d said. The idea that he’d shouldered such guilt at a young age sad­dened her.

  She kissed his chest. “You’re a good man, Mike,” she whispered.

  His lashes flew up. “I’m not looking for compliments.”

  “I don’t think you hear this one often enough. And I’m talking about you, not your company or your accomplishments. There are a lot of ­people in this town who
respect your father and I’m sure he’s done some amazing things. But you are an amazing person. You struck out on your own when it would’ve been easier to accept the life your father was willing to hand you. You helped your best friend find love, even when doing so could have negatively affected your company, you’re almost single-­handedly supporting a youth housing shelter for the next five years, and despite the rude way I handled our initial parting, you posted my bail when I called and accepted my word about Nugget without a paternity test. You’re even willing to raise him on your own. Nugget will be lucky to have you.”

  His muscles tightened beneath her cheek. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  No take-­backsies. “Does it have to mean anything?”

  He rose, his muscles flexing and releasing, and pulled her to a sitting position. His light blue gaze searched hers. “You’re damn right it does.”

  “Okay, fine. Yes, I’ve changed my mind about the adoption. You can raise Nugget.”

  He didn’t let her go. “And you’ll give us a chance? I mean, if I’m as amazing as you say I am . . .”

  She tried to pull away but the stubborn man wouldn’t let her. She looked down at fingers that twisted the ecru colored duvet. “Doesn’t all of this seem like it’s happening too fast? It hasn’t even been two full weeks.”

  His hand cupped her cheek and combed through her braids. “When two ­people connect, the length of their acquaintance is irrelevant.”

  She grabbed his wrist, brought the back of his hand to her lips. “I wasn’t expecting this. Everything’s happening so fast and I need some time. Can we keep it between us? For a little while longer?”

  It would give her the opportunity to learn if she could trust her feelings, to work on giving up her independence, to see if she were ready to accept this family they’d created . . . and to try to overcome the agonizing fear that they wouldn’t accept her.

  HOURS LATER, IN the early morning light, Indi stared at the man lying next to her. When animated, he was the most exhilarating person she’d ever known. But when slumber softened the edges of his face, her heart hurt with the effort it took to contain her emotions. He wanted her and, God help her, she wanted him, too. She had no idea if their relationship, or their family, could work, but they had about five months before Nugget was born to see what would happen.

  And she didn’t intend to waste any second of it.

  She tossed the blanket aside and trailed her hand down his naked body until her fingers grazed his dick nestled in a thatch of dark blond curls. She took it in her hand and smiled slightly as it began to grow and harden. She felt the graze of his knuckles against her cheek and her mouth watered. She started with his nipples, flicking her tongue against the rosettes until they pebbled. She kissed and licked her way down his torso, rubbing her chin against the bristled path that led straight to what she desired.

  She took him in her mouth, his musky scent driving her insane. She fondled him with her right hand while her tongue worked the deep ridge at the base of his head. The moisture from her salivating lips slid down his shaft and helpfully lubricated her firm strokes. When she tasted the bloom of his precum, she moaned and opened her mouth as wide as she could to take him in further.

  She felt his hands tangle in her braids and she smiled against him but she didn’t stop what she was doing. She suctioned her cheeks, as she worked him in and out, her tongue sliding alongside the bottom half of his cock, the roof of her mouth massaging the top. His hips began to pump, and the notion that he was fucking her face was such a turn-­on she slid a hand down to play among her drenched and swollen folds.

  “If your goal is for me to come in your mouth, you’re close to succeeding.” A lethargic passion weighted his voice.

  She withdrew from his cock with a soft pop. “Next time. I promise.”

  He studied her from beneath heavy-­lidded eyes. “It seems we’re assembling a substantial fucking to-­do list. It may take a long time to work our way through it.”

  She straddled him and bent forward to press a wet, hot, openmouthed kiss to his lips, her ass in the air. She straightened . . . and slid down on his shaft.

  They sighed in unison.

  Bracing her hands on his chest, she arched her back and rotated her hips, grinding her clit against his pelvis. He groaned and dug his fingers into her hips as she shivered at the remembered pleasure gathering low in her belly.

  “You can do it, Mike. You’re the most determined man I know.”

  Chapter Twenty

  HIS BODY HUMMED like a tuning fork out of pitch, seeking the source of its recalibration.

  Where was she?

  Mike leaned against the back of a chair and once again checked the time on his phone. With the visual confirmation that only ten minutes had elapsed since his last inspection instead of the hour he’d feared, he slid the device back into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and tipped his head back to glare mutinously up at the ceiling. Early evening sunlight poured in through the great room’s glass walls, projecting shadow lines across every surface it touched. Living on the West Coast and circulating in the social sphere he did, he’d come to terms with being dressed in formal attire when the sun was out but he’d never get used to the oddness. It made him feel like a moneyed lethargic lothario goofing off while everyone around him worked.

  “This is ridiculous!” Robert paced the perimeter of the room, the line of his jaw harder than the stone on the fireplace. “The gala started thirty minutes ago. Why am I still home?”

  Mike eyed the other man. He’d bet one of his two limited bottles of Jefferson’s Presidential Select bourbon his father didn’t feel uneasiness in his suit. Robert Black wore his classic tuxedo as if he’d been born wearing a bow tie and satin peak lapels.

  He sighed. “Because the ladies are still getting dressed.”

  “How is that possible? Your mother has known about this event for months. If she needed hours to get ready, she could’ve built them into her schedule so we could be on time.”

  He sympathized with his father’s impatience, but his restlessness was pushing Mike to the edge.

  “You’re acting as if this were an aberration. From what I remember, you two always do this dance: you’re ready before she is, she takes her time, and when she finally appears, you kiss her cheek and tell her she was worth the wait.”

  When he was younger he’d thought the tender display gross. Like most kids, he really wanted to believe his entrance into the world came via stork and not because his parents—­gasp!—­did it. As he’d gotten older, he’d appreciated the outward displays of love and affection his parents shared. Had wanted that for himself.

  He just hadn’t anticipated the package in which it would arrive.

  His father waved a negating hand. “I can’t even claim her lateness is exacerbated by extra company. She and your sister dragged India off when you both returned home after lunch . . . five hours ago! In five hours I can play a round of golf and still have time left over for a meal.” Robert pivoted crisply and narrowed his eyes. “Which reminds me, unless the two of you came in late after your mother and I retired and then snuck out early before we awakened, it appears you stayed out all night. Together.”

  Mike’s cock hardened as memories slammed through him. Of Indi on top of him, her thighs squeezing his hips. Of her breasts teasing and enticing him to reach up and take a dark nipple between his lips. Of her torso moving between his hands as he turned her over and slid from her front entrance to the rear . . .

  He returned Robert’s gaze, aware that no doubts or misgivings clouded his eyes. “And if we did?”

  Robert inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. “We talked about this. You’re a handsome, wealthy, successful man at the dawn of your career. Between you and Adam, Computronix has the ability to become the biggest technology company in the world. But you need to
listen to me; I’ve never steered you wrong before. The right woman by your side can boost your standing in ways you’d never imagine. Skylar Thompson is the right woman—­”

  “For someone else!” The words claimed their independence from him in righ­teous fury, mocking his own previous inability to do so. He was not going to allow his father to copilot his life anymore. He completed his assertion in a calmer, but no less resolute tone. “Skylar is a wonderful woman, but she’s not for me.”

  Surprisingly, Robert chose not to argue the point further. He glanced at his watch, muttered a low curse, and strode to the door. “I’m not waiting another second. You bring them along when they finish primping.”

  “Of course.” Mike waited until his father crossed the great room and reached for the doorknob. “I only hope you’ve considered how much you’ll enjoy the evening with a pissed-­off Barbara Black by your side.”

  A low blow, sure, but his father had squandered his generous mood.

  Robert’s spine straightened, as if some unseen hand squeezed his shoulder blades together. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be in the study.”

  “No need to do that. We’re ready,” Barbara said, her voice a feminine hacksaw, cutting through the tension in the room.

  Finally!

  Mike sprung from his perch and turned to see his mother glide into the room in a floor-­length navy blue dress with capped lace sleeves and draped folds that gathered at her waist.

  “You look lovely, Mom.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  His father tugged on his cuffs, twisting the onyx and platinum links. “Barbara, it shouldn’t take five hours to get ready for an event.”

  “Stop pacing, Robert,” she said, arching a look in his father’s direction while she accepted Mike’s kiss on her cheek. “It takes as long as it takes. Besides, you’re the guest of honor. We don’t need to be there as ­people arrive. The family should make an entrance.”

  Robert started toward her. “There’s making an entrance and there’s being late.”