by Evelyn Glass
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, shaking her head.
“What for?”
“I shouldn’t have brought any of it up,” she sighed. “I know we agreed…I know we agreed that we weren’t going to let it get in the way of things with Ella.”
I glanced over my shoulder, towards the room where Ella was distantly out for the count. I looked back at Mona, my gaze meeting hers at last. God, those eyes—they had been the first thing I’d really noticed about her, and even now, I had to admit that they were haunting me.
“Ella’s safe,” I remarked, finishing up my dinner and putting down my plate. “As safe as she can be, anyway. For now.”
Mona followed my lead, placing her plate next to mine on the small coffee table in front of us. There was nothing between us now, nothing to deflect everything we’d done so well to hide from each other.
“She is,” Mona agreed. “For now.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it, either,” I admitted, voice low. “I…you’re amazing.”
“I know.” She flashed me a cocky grin, making me laugh. The tension seemed to drop away, and she shifted a little closer to me, closing the gap between us. My fingertips were only an inch or two from the bare skin of her neck, and I fought the urge to reach out and skim them along her collarbone. To see her reaction, to watch her squirm in front of me. “I know that…” She took a deep breath before she spoke again, as if she knew that getting this next bit right was crucial. “I know that you’re nervous about bringing someone new into Ella’s life. But I’m already in it. And she’d never have to know about…us. Not until we were ready.”
She scanned my face for a reaction and, upon not finding one, seemed to panic.
“Only if you want this,” she continued hurriedly. A smile curled onto my lips at the ridiculousness of her statement. There was never any “if” in the equation. I’d wanted Mona from the moment I laid eyes on her, and that had only grown more intense with the time that had passed; my lust had turned to something heavier and headier, something that meant more than anything else I’d felt for a grown-ass woman before.
She glanced down at my mouth, then back up to my eyes, and I reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes and her lips parted; I paused for a moment, watching her, taking her in in this strangely intimate moment. She was lost in my touch, and I knew there was no point in fighting the urges any more. I wanted her, she wanted me, and there was nothing more either of us could do to keep Ella any safer than she already was in that moment. Everything dropped away, and I leaned forward and planted my lips against hers.
She caught my face in her hands and pulled me close, at once frantic and savoring every touch; our tongues met, and I pulled her on top of me. She tasted just as I remembered her tasting, but this time, it was different—I wasn’t driven by adrenaline. I wanted her because I wanted her. No one else would do. The thought that I had ever wanted anyone before I wanted her seemed ridiculous in retrospect, as I slid my hand around her waist and pulled her body taut against mine.
She pulled back for a moment and let out a short breath, staring into my eyes, before we resumed our making out. It was as though she wanted to confirm that it was really me, that this was really happening. I knew exactly how she felt—I kept on stroking her hair, reminding myself that this was Mona, the only woman I felt as though I’d ever truly trusted. Her sweet scent enveloped me, and I wondered if I could bottle it to spray on my pillow at night before I went to sleep, so I could pretend that she was still there next to me.
“Are you sure about this?” I breathed into her ear. I knew that we needed a back-out clause, needed to know that if this went wrong we could blame it on ourselves. Because I knew that this was a gamble. Even going this far was probably pushing our luck, knowing that this thing between us was real and potent and serious and that if we wanted to we could probably make it work. Tantalizing ourselves with the promise of something we didn’t really know for sure we could make work yet was dangerous, and we both knew it.
“Yes,” she replied, her gaze meeting mine fleetingly. She rolled down on to the couch and pulled me on top of her, so we were flat against each other; her body was soft and cool beneath my own, and I kissed her once again. I didn’t give a shit what kind of bad decisions we were making. I just knew that I couldn’t let this stop. It felt different to the last time, as though something was urging us on, something beyond simple desire.
Chapter Eighteen
I had never felt anything like this before in my life. As I pulled him down on top of me, I felt my heart swell with something—an emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on, something that seemed to defy explanation or reasoning. I raked my nails down his back, and even through his shirt, I could feel him react; arching up to get closer to me, to feel me near him. This wasn’t like before. The last time, it had all been about fucking and trying each other on for size, but this time around…my brain was aching from the whirl of emotions that were pulsing through me with every heartbeat.
I pulled my hand around and placed it on his chest, feeling around until I could make out the pulse of his heart against my fingertips. He pulled back and looked at me, lifting his hand so he could interlock his fingers with mine; both of us, there, staring at each other as we focused on the sensation of his heart beating against our joined hands. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that—could have been a second, could have been an hour—but for that moment, nothing mattered but him and me. Everything else seemed to drop away around us, leaving as bare and raw and alone amongst the mess that had sprung up around us.
He leaned down slowly, and caught my lip between his teeth; he tugged on it gently, sending the blood rushing to the surface of my skin. Every motion seemed to be carefully premediated, as if he’d known exactly what he wanted to do with me from the moment I got out of his bed the first time around. He’d been thinking about it as much as I had, and I had every intention of making the most of whatever time we had together. I wasn’t sure what would happen next—whether we would wake up tomorrow and find another layer added to this strange story of ours, one that would push us apart all over again—and all I wanted was to be able to cling on to this moment while we still had it. It was desperate, yes, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t real.
He moved down, kissing my chin and my throat and that spot where my neck met my breasts. His mouth was warm despite the cool air in the apartment surrounding us, and as soon as his lips met my skin, I knew I wanted more. There would be no stopping this. Nothing could come between us—not the building collapsing around us where we sat—this needed to happen, had needed to happen since the first time we ended up in his bed. I had never felt for anyone the way I did for Jazz in that moment—a build-up of the care and desire and affection we’d built between us over the last few months released in that moment. I felt tears prick my eyes, my mind confused at trying to make sense of so many emotions at once—but I dismissed them, tilting my head so I could watch him moving down my body. I giggled as I watched him flip up my shirt and plant a kiss against my belly—he looked up at me and smiled.
“You smell so good,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to my skin again and skimming his lips up against me. Then, before I knew it, he was between my legs again, fumbling with the fly on my jeans and slipping my panties over my hips. Just like last time. As though he’d been craving me—wanting me all this time without me knowing about it. I wondered if he’d laid in bed late at night and found his mind drifting to the feel of his mouth on my pussy; I knew I had, no matter how much I’d tried to deny it over the past few weeks.
He paused once my jeans were off, and looked up at me; he was close enough that I could feel his breath on me again, and it was sending waves of tingles down my spine. But he didn’t seem to have any intention of going down on me.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, his voice gentle but fierce in the same breath. I did as I was told at once, not even thinking twice as I slid my hand
between my legs. He parted my thighs so he could watch, even though he seemed more trained in on my face than the movement of my fingers. Blood pulsed around my head and my heart began to crash against my ribs as I slipped my fingers against my slick pussy—the relief was palpable, but the look on his face as he watched me was almost too much to take. I had no idea that someone not touching me could be so erotic. His eyes flicked down to my cunt and back up to me as I pushed a finger inside of myself, squirming against it, putting on a show. I wanted him to know how much he turned me on, to see in no uncertain terms that I desired him in ways I couldn’t even imagine.
I always wondered what it would be like if we hooked up again—if the tantalizing wrongness of the situation would serve as the main drive behind it, making it hot, or whether the lust would have vanished after the first time. I was incorrect on both counts; no, something deeper existed between us now. I couldn’t have put it into words—or maybe I was just too afraid to, yet—but it was intoxicating and sexy and intimate and before I knew it I found myself on the brink of coming.
I let out a sharp gasp as I climaxed, my entire body tensing and relaxing in one wave of motion as it happened. Before I had a chance to even think anything else, Jazz caught my fingers in his mouth, sucking lightly; I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of his tongue against the pads of my hand, and then realized that he was unbuckling his jeans as well. I propped myself up on my elbows as he hurriedly undressed, then climbed up on top of me to kiss me again.
“Can I—”
“God, yes,” I sighed against his ear, not even needing to hear the rest of what he was saying for me to know that I wanted it, wanted him, without question. He grabbed the base of his cock, lined it up, and thrust into me in one swift motion.
“Ah!” I gasped, trying to keep my voice down. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face against his shoulder, letting his skin muffle the sound of my cries. He moved slowly at first, taking his time until he was all the way inside of me. I arched my hips up, and hooked my ankles together around his waist to allow him deeper access. I closed my eyes and let him fuck me, all too happy to hand over control of the situation to him. He caught my face in one hand and tilted it towards him, kissing me again—this time gently, chaste despite what was going on below the waist. He opened his eyes and looked at me, taking me in, his gaze searching as he thrust harder than before. I pressed a kiss against his chin, running my finger along the sharp line of his jaw and wondering how the hell I had ended up with a man as spectacular as Jazz.
Jazz began to move faster, his breath coming in ragged pants against my ear. I ground up against him, already on the brink of coming again; the second orgasm felt mellow and soft compared to the first, a release rather than a relief, and I let out a small, satisfied moan against his skin. I’d forgotten how good he smelled, and I tightened my grip on him, inhaling deeply, wondering how we’d ever let this get away, how we’d not been doing this since the moment we met.
A few seconds later, I felt his cock twitch inside of me; his grip on me relaxed for a moment, and I realized he must have come. He thrust into me one last time and held himself there for a second, eyes closed and mouth open—I could have watched him like that all night long, I really could, the sight of him in his orgasmic state. But he slowly pulled himself out of me, planting a kiss on my cheek as he did so, and went to grab for his pants. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tight, watching him, wondering where we went from here now that the fucking was done with.
“We should get some sleep,” Jazz suggested, nodding to the bedroom opposite Ella’s.
I eyed him carefully. “In the same bed?”
“Obviously,” he grinned, and leaned across to kiss me once more. It was soft and gentle, no intent in it beyond him expressing how he felt—and somehow, it was just as good as the screwing we’d just gotten down to.
Jazz held his hand out to me, and I took it, grabbing my pants and underwear from the couch and allowing him to lead me through to the bedroom. I stripped down, curled up on my side, and as soon as I felt Jazz wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest, I let myself go, drifting off into unconsciousness in a matter of minutes.
Chapter Nineteen
I woke early the next day, and glanced over to see Mona sprawled out in bed next to me. But this time, I didn’t feel a surge of panic at the sight of her; I didn’t fear for what was to come next. No, instead, I felt a little buzz of childish excitement at the sight of the sexy-as-fuck woman sleeping right next to me. I reached out to run a hand up her back, and she squirmed against the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned to look at me.
“Hey.” She grinned bashfully.
“Hey,” I replied, trailing my fingers across her skin. She closed her eyes again, and I watched the way her spine swayed sensually against the sheets. God, if I could have spent a whole month in this bed with her, I think I would have.
“So…” I trailed off. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. And that was despite everything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours; we were in a safe house, someone was pursuing me and my daughter, and we’d been followed at least some of the way here. But in that moment, all I felt was that hazy, blissful sense that something had gone really, really right.
“We should probably check on Ella.” She yawned, pulling herself upright. She stretched, and her breasts shifted in the sexiest way—I fought the urge to touch them, because I knew she was right.
I pulled myself out of bed and grabbed my clothes. I was so aware of Monas presence as I got dressed—why had I waited so long to do this? Waking up next to her felt obvious. She was the only person other than me I trusted with Ella—not to mention the fact she was smart, funny, compassionate, and hot as hell. We were a natural match. We made sense, and I wanted to kick myself that it had taken me so long to realize it.
I made my way through to Ella’s room, and found her still passed out in bed; I glanced at my phone and saw that it was barely seven in the morning. It was a Saturday, so I didn’t have to worry about getting her to school or anything. In fact, we could just spend the day together here, the three of us, if we wanted. The thought made my heart swell with happiness, even though I knew this was a strange situation to be happy about. I guessed I was just making the most of a bad situation. And I had to admit, as bad situations went, this one seemed to be turning out kind of alright. We were all safe, we were all here—at least for the time being. I wouldn’t mind if none of this changed for a while.
I made my way back through to the bedroom, and flopped down on the bed; Mona was getting dressed, much to my disappointment.
“She’s still asleep,” I murmured, and Mona turned to me and smiled.
“She okay?”
“Perfect.” I nodded, and walked over to her. I wrapped my hands around her waist from behind and planted a kiss on her neck; I knew it wouldn’t exactly be the best idea, but I would have taken her straight back to bed if I could. She nestled against me and let out a small, satisfied noise against my neck.
I didn’t think it needed saying; it hung in the air between the two of us, our bodies speaking it every time we touched. And besides, it was early days yet. With the intensity of the last twenty-four hours, I wanted to make sure that we would survive being together as normal people, as people who weren’t fighting some crazy, unknown force. I was pretty sure we would. But that didn’t mean the words didn’t cross my mind—that I didn’t want to whisper “I love you” into her ear, just so she knew that this wasn’t like the last time. I wasn’t going anywhere.
But she knew. She pulled out of the embrace, and planted a kiss on my cheek. Was it stupid that I felt giddy just being this close to her? I knew I was acting like an idiot, but I was in love—and lust. I felt as though the world had lurched sideways as soon as she had come into it, and I had to admit I liked it. I was so scared of change, but when it came to her, I wanted it.
“I’m starving,” she sighed. “Do you k
now if they have anything in here for breakfast?”
She made her way through to the kitchen area and I followed her; I went through the cupboards, and a plan began to form. I turned to her with a grin, and nodded towards Ella’s room.
“You want to check if she’s up? Because I’ve got a feeling that she’s going to want to join us for breakfast.”
A few minutes later, I was standing in front of the stove carefully measuring out dollops of pancake batter into a sizzling saucepan. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a way for Ella to feel like this place was a little more normal, a little more fun. Mona and Ella emerged from her bedroom, and Ella’s eyes practically bugged out of her head when she saw what I was cooking.
“Pancakes?” she exclaimed.
I nodded, laughing at her excitement. “Good morning to you to.”
“Hey, don’t blame the girl, you are making pancakes,” Mona pointed out. She eyed my pan hungrily “And they look so good.”
“I’ll try and save a few leftovers for you,” I teased, and Ella jumped down on the sofa next to Mona. There was an old TV sitting in the corner of the room, and Mona flicked it on, finding a few cartoons for Ella to enjoy as I cooked up breakfast.
