by Hawk, Maya
I reach to undo his jeans, feeling the bulge beginning to form in his pants. His cock, his big, beautiful cock, is all I want. I want to run my tongue along his length, feeling the way it fills my mouth. I want to feel its soft velvety skin against my palms as it grows. I want it inside me.
Sutton stands and pulls his pants down the rest of the way, revealing his solid, pierced cock in all its perfect glory. He tears my pants off before leaning down and biting the lace fringe of my panties with his perfect teeth, slipping them off and climbing over top of me, pinning me beneath his muscled torso.
His hands work around to my back as he unhooks my bra, leaning down to kiss my collarbone at the same time. His body over mine grounds me.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he whispers. “Waiting for this moment.”
My core heats, growing wet with his words as his hands caress every inch of my body. I reach up and grip his muscled shoulders, tracing my fingernails down over each ripple and bend as his muscles glide beneath his soft flesh.
He scoops his hands under my back and lifts my body upwards until we’re near the head of the bed, and he lays me down delicately until my head hits a white pillow. His eyes lock and never leave mine, and we stay like that for a moment.
This time is going to be different. Less hungry. More intense. Less greedy. More patient. Sex with Sutton can be any variety and still rock my world, but the way he looks at me now is different.
He knows he has me now, and that’s okay because it’s true.
I belong to him.
I am his.
Always have been.
Always will be.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he says. “I have to be inside you.”
His words send me reeling, and I widen my hips. I take a deep breath, anticipating that first insertion. The one that hurts in the best way possible. It’s my favorite part of sex with him. He positions himself between my thighs, gripping onto the base of his monstrous cock and pressing the tip against my swollen, wet sex. He releases his cock for a moment to massage my clit.
“Relax,” he breaths. His hand returns to his cock, and he presses it against me.
“Aah,” I sigh as he inserts himself. The last time we fucked, I barely had time to enjoy it. I barely had time to appreciate his girth or his talent or the way he bucked his hips just perfectly. Fucking a guy who knows female genitalia better than most females comes with its perks.
“You okay?” he asks after a few deep thrusts.
I bite my lip and nod.
He thrusts himself in and out of me, slowly at first, and then building to a quick rhythm. The warmth of his hot mouth covers my left breast as his tongue swirls, teases, and licks my pert, pink nipple.
Sut reaches down and grabs my legs, hoisting them over his broad shoulders until he is so deep inside me I almost beg him to stop. With his cock hitting my wall and spreading my insides until my nerves tingle with tortured ecstasy, I writhe against the pressure and welcome it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he heaves as he continues thrusting. “And tight. God damn, you’re tight.”
“You probably say that to all your patients,” I tease. It’s worth it though because he flashes a smile that lights up his whole face, and plunges himself even deeper inside me.
He lowers my legs down from his shoulders. They fall to the sides of his hips as he pulls himself out of me. He rolls me to my side, crawling behind me and lifting one of my legs up a little before inserting himself in me all over again. He presses his hardness into me again, making my heart dip and ricochet in my chest, and then he wraps his arm under mine, pulling me close and breathing into my ear. Soft grunts leave his mouth with each buck of his hips.
He kisses my neck as he massages my breasts, his body hungry for mine.
After a while, he leans forward a bit and rolls me to my back, never taking himself out of me for even a second. It was like we are sealed, he and I, unable to pry ourselves apart if we wanted to.
His stare pierces my soul, making me forget how to breathe, and he leans down to kiss my half-open mouth, muffling the sighs that escape with every thrust.
He brushes my hair from my face in the most tender of moves, and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to release himself into me.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We have all night. I’m not going anywhere.”
With a corded neck, Sut releases himself inside me, wild spurts of hotness filling my inside. His body convulses as he empties himself and the sweet release takes hold of him. He collapses on top of me, sweaty and panting, and buries his face in my neck.
I run my fingers up and down his arm, grazing his skin with my nails, as I wait for him to recover.
“That was fucking amazing,” he sighs. “Better than the last time.”
“Yes, it was.” My hand trails down my chest, each rise and fall lifting it up and down.
As soon as the warmth of his body leaves mine, I shiver in the cool air conditioning of my dusk-filled bedroom. Without hesitating, he swiftly pulls the comforter up and covers me, slipping his arm behind my neck and holding me close.
“Thanks,” I say.
“I want to take care of you later,” he says, his voice vibrating into my skin. “I know that was all about me, but I just had to have you. I couldn’t wait.”
“It’s fine, Sut…”
“No, it’s not,” he says. “I promise. I want you to feel the way you make me feel.”
His words tickle my core as the thought of him touching me down there or licking me gets me all hot and bothered again.
I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing him in, and close my eyes. I don’t want to look at the clock. I don’t want to watch the minutes tick by, reminding us that my mother will be home in a matter of hours. I don’t want any of this to end.
A smile claims my mouth as I realize it doesn’t have to end here.
His finger traces my belly button, tickling my nerves before moving downwards to the apex between my thighs. My heart races as he spreads my legs apart and slips his finger up and down my slit.
“Close your eyes,” he whispers. “Just relax. Let me do the rest.”
I obey his command, shut my eyes, and lean back into my pillow. The warmth of his body leaves my space as he crawls under the covers and gets into position between my thighs. Pulling in a deep breath, his hot tongue slides into my most sensitive parts, lapping up my wetness. My body pulses in response to his touch. It won’t be long before I’m twisting in sheer ecstasy with Sutton at the helm.
TWENTY-FOUR – SUTTON
I wipe my mouth, and Lauryn’s arousal, against my arm. Her body is limp, almost melted into the mattress, and she’s trying hard to catch her breath.
“Your mom will be home soon,” I say, crawling up. I pull her up and into my arms, holding her as she comes down from her orgasmic high. “I’m not staying over.”
She whimpers, though she’s still wordless.
“I have to visit my mom,” I say, brushing her cheek with my hand. “And my plane leaves tomorrow morning.”
Lauryn nuzzles her face into my shoulder.
“My plane leaves at nine tomorrow from LAX. It’d be really great if I when I got to the terminal, you were there waiting.” My palm brushes against her bare arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps. I wait for her to speak, but all I get are soft hums. “I have to head out now.”
I don’t tell her I’ll see her tomorrow because I know the choice is hers. I’ve said all I can say. I’ve presented my case, and now the defense rests. Guiding her back into the barrage of pillows and blankets, I tuck her in bed and kiss her sweet lips. She kisses me back but says nothing, and I slip out under the veil of dusk and drive to my mother’s house.
***
“Hey, Mom.” I kick my shoes off at the service entry and head straight for the den. Knowing my mother, she’s doing what she’s always done late at night: enjoying a nightcap and listening to some classic jazz by the fireplace.
“Sutton!” She says my name with her trademark, breathless influence. Her face illuminates, and she runs to me with open arms, though one hand is clutching a crystal tumbler filled with a finger of Scotch. Funny how someone so light and airy can drink a man’s drink and make it look natural. “I’m so happy to see you.”
She buries her face in the crook of my neck, and holds me as tight as she can, standing on her tiptoes.
“I’ve missed you so.” She says with an exhale. I hope to God she doesn’t pick up a hint of sex on me. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.” She leads me to a grouping of leather club chairs, Etta James’ softly wafting from nearby speakers.
“Will you be staying the night?”
“Yes, if that’s okay.”
“Of course, Sutty. Your room is all made up and ready to go. I just had Roxy put fresh linens on your old bed.” She smiles, but it’s a pained smile. She’s smiling through hurt and tears and trying to hide the fact that her world is crumbling. Mom takes a sip of Scotch and then another. A third sip empties the remaining liquid, and she rises up, heading toward the bar to pour another finger. “DeVonn moved out last week. We tried to make it work. He was willing to go to counseling, and he found one of the best counselors in Brentwood.” She takes a sip of her freshly poured drink before turning back to face me. “In the end, it was me.” Her mouth smiles but her eyes do not. “I was the one who decided to end things. Funny how things work out, isn’t it, Sutty?”
“I’ve been talking to Lauryn,” I say, figuring she’d welcome a fresh topic. I’m sure she’s been drowning in her own thoughts lately, mourning her former life.
Mom’s face brightens, even in the dimly lit den. “Lauryn? How wonderful. How is she?”
“She’s doing okay. Going through some things. Trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life.”
“I always did feel bad,” Mom says, taking a sip before continuing, “that my being with DeVonn caused a rift between the two of you. You two needed each other. She needs her father too. A girl always needs her father.”
“I don’t think she has any intention of reconciling with him.” My fingers form a triangle as I rest my elbows against my thighs.
“She’ll learn to forgive him as we all do.” She exhales, staring over my shoulder toward a bookcase full of trophies and red carpet photographs of my mother with various co-stars. Her looks have faded slightly over the years, dimming her star along with it, but the little things serve as a daily reminder that she was once relevant if only for a fleeting moment. “Tell Lauryn that forgiveness is not something we do for others. It’s something we do for ourselves.”
I’m sure a therapist gave her that nugget of wisdom, but it doesn’t make it any less true. She’s right.
“Lauryn’s hurting. It’s going to take a while to undo a decade worth of damage,” I say. “But I think she’ll get there.”
“Oh, honey, did I tell you they’re honoring me at the Annual Goldstein Gala?” My mother flits from one topic to another like a hummingbird flits from bird feeder to bird feeder. “I’m the guest of honor. It’s next month. The twenty-first. Will you care to escort me? I’ll need a date.”
I laugh. “Yes, Mother. I’ll be your date.”
She smiles and continues rambling on about how great it feels to be honored once again. She mentions something about a lifetime achievement award and then somehow that turns into a spiel about how she had to fire her decorator and ended up hiring college intern with more talent in his pinky finger than anyone she’s ever worked with combined.
I sit back and let her talk, and when she retires for the evening, I send Lauryn a goodnight text. I want her to know I’m always thinking of her.
Always.
I wash up for bed and set the alarm on my phone, mentally calculating my morning routine so that I’m not late arriving at the airport.
I check my phone one last time before shutting off the light.
No response.
TWENTY-FIVE – LAURYN
It’s way too early to be up. This is not normal. This is not natural. I take scalding sips of hot coffee, letting it burn my throat on the way down. The faster it works its way to my bloodstream, the better off I’ll be. I’m still on east coast time, and this is brutal.
My foot twitches wildly. I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, but I am.
I’ve secured a seat on a Miami-bound plane that departs LAX in less than an hour, and there’s no sight of Sutton yet. Knowing my luck, he cancelled his flight so he could harass me into coming home with him even more.
That boy is relentless.
I smile, finding his determination charming and amusing and admirable. The fact that I can admit that now, that I can be comfortable admitting Sutton Pierce is the best thing that’s ever happened to me speaks volumes. I barely recognized myself that morning as I got ready, but I have a hunch I’m going to love the girl I’m becoming.
Throngs of travelers make their way to their terminals in burst of people. A group of people chatting idly pulls my attention to my left. They take up the entire walkway, walking shoulder to shoulder, and I sit up in an attempt to see over them.
The moment they clear, I see him.
“Sutton,” I mouth, loving the way his name feels coming from my lips. I sit there, smiling like an idiot, and waiting for him to notice me. And then I rise. He steps in my direction, a leather messenger bag slung across his chest and a coffee in his hand. His hair is still shower-damp, and I can only imagine how delicious he smells.
His lifts until he sees the terminal sign, stops short, and scans the area for a free seat. And that’s when he sees me.
I stand with bated breath, hoping for a hint or sign that he’s happy to see me. He doesn’t smile immediately. He doesn’t come running into my arms. This isn’t a movie scene.
He marches toward me and drops his bag at my feet. “You didn’t text back last night.”
My brows furrow. “I-I was sleeping. I had to get up early this morning.”
He still hasn’t smiled, and that’s concerning to me because we’re due to sit next to one another on this plane in less than an hour, and several hours sitting next to someone who suddenly doesn’t want anything to do with you is bound to feel all kinds of horrible.
Without warning, his hands find my jaw and he smashes his mouth upon mine. His kiss is unapologetically bold. He wants the world to know, once again, that I am his.
And I am.
I. Am. His.
“Ladies and gentleman, we will now begin boarding flight 352, non-stop to Miami. If you’ll…” the flight attendant’s voice booms over the speakers, and he peels his mouth off mine. We’re both gasping for air, and our lips curl in tandem.
“I’m going to need a place to live, you know,” I say. “I kind of quit my job.”
“You won’t have to worry about a damn thing, Lauryn.”
EPILOGUE – LAURYN
One Year Later
“Ah, look at that.” I flip to the back of the Miami Herald where an advertisement for a local used car dealership takes up the entire thing. “Cheapest cars in town. Nobody beats Dealy Dan’s Domestic Dealership. Did you know they’ll take any old trade-in? Even if it doesn’t run?”
Sutton removes his sunglasses, turning to me with a smirk as he finishes his bite of his breakfast bagel. “You want a new car?”
“No,” I laugh. “Look.”
I hand him the newspaper with my finger pointing to a photo at the bottom. Dealy Dan’s staff is pictured along with their cell phone numbers, and James’ picture is smashed right in the middle.
“James.”
Sutton brings the paper closer to his face, as if it can’t possibly be James. “No way. He wouldn’t work at a used car dealership…”
“I can’t imagine Colette DuBois hung around long enough to watch him fall to his social-status death,” I huff. “Daughter of an oil baron dating a used car salesman? I don’t think so.”
“He lost it all, baby,” Sut laughs. “I believe that’s what you call karma.”
The faint sound of a baby trails toward us, drifting on a breeze through the window of our next door neighbor’s house. It makes me smile, and I look over at Sutton. He’s smiling too.
“Soon,” he says. “I know you’re anxious to get started with that next chapter.”
“I know,” I say. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have baby fever something fierce. Something about knowing you’re with the most amazing person in the world, the person you’re going to spend your life with, makes waiting to get your life started unbearably tortuous. “I just want these next thirty days to fly by.”
“They will,” he says. “A month from now, we’ll be strolling the white sandy beaches of Turks and Caicos as man and wife.”
“So weird,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Like I never thought you’d be my husband.”
Sutton drops the paper to the side, reaching for me and pulling me into his lap. Our breakfasts sit half-eaten on our patio table. The sun rises over the horizon, threatening to bring with it some humid Miami heat, but none of it matters.
“I knew. I always knew.” His sturdy doctor hands cup my face, pulling me in for a kiss. “I knew I’d find a way to make you mine eventually.”
“I never stood a chance, did I?” I laugh. “You’d never let me get away.”’
“Never.”
“Good.”
He kisses me again, longer, slower. Our mouths dance and our tongues flirt. He has to leave for work soon. Those babies won’t deliver themselves.
“Will you deliver our baby?” I ask, pulling away.
“Excuse me?”
“You know, when we have kids someday. Will you deliver ours?”
Sutton doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t pause or think about it. He shakes his head. “No, never.”
I arch an eyebrow. I’m truly shocked. What doctor wouldn’t like to deliver his own children if he could?
“I’ve always wanted to be on the other end,” he says, running his hand along my thigh sweetly. “I’ve always wanted to be at the head of the bed, holding my wife’s hand, keeping her calm, reminding her to breathe. I want to be surprised when the baby comes out, and I want to be snapping pictures from the moment the baby takes its first breath until it finds comfort in the arms of its mother.”
