The Giving Season

by Rebecca Brock

  Michael raised his head to gaze at Jessy, who lazily opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she said, kissing him again, a sweet, brief kiss on the lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  The rest of the house was silent and dark. It seemed impossible to her that they were going to do what they were going to do. After so many years of yearning and wishing and hoping and fantasizing, the moment was finally upon her.

  All of her bravado disappeared. The closer they got to Michael’s bedroom, the more apprehensive she became. This wasn’t just kissing or making out or even heavy petting. She and Michael were about to make love. Have sex. Do the deed.

  Her stomach churned. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this.

  Michael looked down at her and smiled, and every hormone in her body flared to sudden, burning life.

  Or maybe I am ready, she thought, remembering the way his hands had felt on her body, the way his mouth moved so wet and hot over her bare skin.

  “After you,” he said as he opened the door. Jessy nervously glanced up at him again, then looked into the room. For just a moment, all she could see was the bed. The big, quilt-covered, four-poster bed.

  Michael closed the door, discreetly locking it. For a moment, he looked as nervous and awed as Jessy felt. His eyes caught hers, holding her gaze for a few long, silent moments.

  “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

  Jessy shook away the clinging remnants of her own nervousness and took his hands in hers, holding them loosely as she stood on tiptoe and kissed his throat, his chin, his lips. She felt him tremble even as his body tensed against hers.

  “I’m sure,” she said and looked up to his eyes again.

  Without hesitation, Michael wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with himself, kissing her as if they had been apart for years instead of hours. His sudden ardor caught Jessy off-guard, as thrilling as it was frightening—especially as she felt herself responding to him, as she felt her own body pressing harder against his, trying to get even closer.

  Somehow, moving more gracefully than two entwined bodies should move, Michael maneuvered Jessy backwards to the bed, breaking their breathless kiss just long enough to ease her back against the pillows. He stretched out beside her, holding her close as his mouth found hers again. He deftly unbuttoned her blouse, easing his hand beneath the material, cupping her breast through her bra—

  And Jessy suddenly realized what was truly happening. What was going to happen. Despite the pleasure, despite the intimacy, Jessy felt a sickening wave of self-consciousness, all too aware of how bright it was in the room, even in the dim light of the bedroom lamp. All too aware of how vividly the scars and imperfections of her less than perfect body would appear. Michael would take one look at her and—

  Jessy involuntarily jerked away from him, raising her arms to cover herself as she pulled her blouse together again. Her reaction was purely instinctive, the impossible-to-shake remnants of a lifetime spent hiding behind loose clothing and dark shadows. She still wanted Michael as intensely as ever—but could not bear the thought of seeing the disgust in his eyes when he saw her body.

  Michael fell back against the pillows, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight out in front of him. He rubbed at his mouth, then ran a hand through his disheveled hair, taking his time before raising his gaze back to Jessy again. For a few long moments they just silently stared at each other, still breathing raggedly, still dazed by the intensity of what they’d shared. Michael remained silent, simply looking at her with a mixture of confusion and disappointment in his eyes.

  Jessy couldn’t stand it, too humiliated by her own actions, by her own body, to face him.

  “Michael—I don’t know—I mean—” She sighed, releasing her frustrations in a soft curse. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she finally said, raising her gaze to his again.

  “You were doing pretty good there for a while.” Michael didn’t bother to close his shirt, and lying there—a sheen of sweat on his bare chest and his eyes hooded with barely restrained desire—he made Jessy’s entire body tremble with the need to touch him, to feel him so close to her again. “What’s wrong?”

  Jessy sat up beside him, still clutching her blouse together, hiding herself from his eyes. “My body—” Her voice caught, each word a torture. This was the last hurdle, the last fear, and she had to face it, even though she was terrified of Michael’s reaction.

  “Jessy—” Michael scooted closer to her, taking her hand. “I’ve told you—that doesn’t matter to me.”

  “But it does to me.” Jessy managed to look into his eyes. The passion that had filled them only moments earlier remained, but now it was tempered with a tenderness that touched her to the soul. “I’ve got scars—stretch marks—”

  Michael touched her cheek, lifting her face so that he could look into her eyes. He saw the tears shimmering in them and was too confused to speak for a moment. How could she ever believe that he would possibly reject her because of something like that?

  “Jessy,” he whispered, “I could tell you for the rest of our lives that none of that matters to me—”

  “But—“

  “But nothing.” Michael traced the shape of her lower lip with his thumb, loving the feel, the warmth, of her skin. As she gazed up to him, he felt an overwhelming sense of completeness, a contentment he thought he’d never know. He just wished he could help her feel that same peace of mind.

  “Jess,” he continued, his voice softer than a caress, “when I look at you, I see a woman who is kind and gentle and compassionate. I see a woman who makes me smile, who makes my children smile.”

  Tears trickled over Jessy’s cheeks. Michael smiled, sweeping the tears away with a gentle touch.

  “When I look at you,” he whispered, “I see a beautiful woman. I don’t know what else I can say to make you believe me—except that I love you.”

  Jessy gazed at him, then slowly, shakily smiled. “I love you, too—and I want to make love to you—”

  Michael said nothing for a moment, leaning away from Jessy, never looking away from her eyes as he gently opened her blouse again. Jessy cringed, as if to hide herself, but Michael stopped her with a faint shake of his head.

  “No,” he breathed. “I want to see you.”

  Jessy fought the urge to close her eyes. She didn’t want to see him try to hide the disgust, the disappointment, when he finally saw her body. As he eased her blouse away, she felt with exquisite awareness every bulge, every scar, every imperfection. She wanted to turn her face away, but couldn’t. She wanted to trust Michael’s promise.

  Michael finally looked away from her wide-eyed gaze, allowing himself to see her full breasts, to see the milk-white skin that was faintly etched by pinkish striations. For a moment, he had to fight the impulse to smile—this was what she was so worried about? He saw absolutely nothing wrong with her; in fact, he couldn’t imagine how anything about her could be anything less than beautiful. But he didn’t dare smile. Jessy needed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt just how much he loved her, how much he wanted her.

  He gently trailed his fingertip over the lacy edge of her bra, tracing the upper swell of her breasts. Her breath caught as he dipped his finger into her cleavage then continued his tortuous circuit. He watched her close her eyes for a moment, watched her gather her courage, and loved her all the more for it.

  “Look at me,” he said quietly, shrugging out of his shirt as Jessy opened her eyes again. He kept her gaze as he carefully slipped the straps of her bra over her shoulders, then reached around to the back and easily undid the clasp. In her eyes, he could see the struggle to keep her arms at her sides, to resist the urge to cover herself.

  Then he allowed his gaze to travel the length of her naked torso. And he allowed himself to finally smile as he met her eyes again.

  “Jessy—” he whispered, shaking his head slightly in wonderment. “You’re beautiful.”
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  His acceptance destroyed the last of the barriers that she had hidden behind for so long. Jessy felt herself blushing to the roots, felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and realized with a bit of a shock that no matter what might happen between them, this was still Michael. This was still the man who made her laugh, the man who talked to her and listened to her and held her as she wept. This was the man she trusted with her life. The man she loved with all her soul.

  The small smile finally broke through, and as she touched his chest, stroking the soft, wiry hair, she actually felt beautiful. And loved. More than anything, she felt loved.

  He cradled her in his embrace as they lay back against the pillows, kissing her so gently, so tenderly, that she thought she might die of the sheer pleasure of his touch. She had that odd sensation of feeling drugged once again; time slipped away from them as they kissed and touched, palms skimming over hard muscle and soft curves, stroking, caressing. The rest of Jessy’s clothing seemed to fall away in a few deft motions, and she watched wide-eyed as Michael stood beside the bed, undoing his jeans as he stared unrelentingly into her eyes.

  Jessy felt a little dazed as the rest of that magnificent body was revealed to her. Michael’s legs were as finely muscled as an athlete, the same ripened peach shade as his chest and arms. Wearing only his underwear, he seemed as sheepish and shy as Jessy had been.

  Then, with a bashful smile, he sat beside her once again. With a quick tug, the underwear came off and he was as naked and vulnerable as Jessy.

  At the sight of him, Jessy felt the heat rising in her cheeks, spreading throughout her entire body. She glanced back to his eyes and recognized the expression on his face; he was every bit as anxious and nervous as she had been. But even as she gazed at him, that first uneasy moment of vulnerability was passing. And now there was nothing left to fear.

  Michael smiled again and moved over Jessy, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her again. Jessy gasped against his mouth at the feel of his long, slender fingers moving over her skin, at the brush of his silky hair against her breasts as his mouth explored her body. She followed his example, touching him as he touched her, marveling at the reaction of his body. He moved so that he covered her body with his, and she could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against her stomach. The thought that she could inspire such a fierce reaction was as startling as it was empowering.

  After what seemed an eternity of soft caresses and gentle kisses, Michael reluctantly rolled away from Jessy, breathing hard as he fumbled through the drawer of his bedside table. Jessy blinked as if coming out of a daze, watching as Michael withdrew a small foil square from the drawer. He looked up, saw her watching, and weakly smiled as he returned to her side.

  “I had hoped this might happen,” he said softly, ripping open the foil. “I just didn’t know where or when.”

  Jessy slowly smiled, feeling the faintest twinge of embarrassment as she watched Michael slip the condom onto himself, but relieved. She hadn’t even thought to consider it.

  He returned to her, folding her into his arms as his lips nipped and suckled at hers, and in that moment the last of Jessy’s fears were eased. She loved him. She trusted him. And he loved her. Nothing else mattered.

  “I’m a little out of practice,” Michael whispered as he moved over her again, bracing himself on his elbows as he settled against her. Jessy welcomed his weight, relishing the feel of his body pressed into hers.

  She smiled up at him, lacing her fingers through his soft hair as she kissed him again. “Then I guess that’s something else we have in common, isn’t it?”

  Michael’s smile lasted only a moment before he dipped his head and kissed her again, communicating his desire, his hunger, in long, thorough kisses that stole their breaths away. He explored her body with his hands, his mouth, and invited her to do the same. Jessy felt her shyness melt away, replaced by burning curiosity. Time faded, measured only through the beating of their hearts, the soft exhalations of their breaths.

  When he knew that she was ready for him, Michael raised his head and gazed into her eyes, seeing the need, the passion—the uncertainty. He hesitated, almost ready to stop, to let her regain her courage, when she whispered one word that changed everything: “Please.”

  Almost unable to restrain himself, Michael eased into her slowly, wincing at her soft whimpers of pleasure and pain, and wrapped his arms completely around her, cradling her close as she adjusted to the feel of him. “I’m sorry,” he breathed into her ear, hating himself for causing her any kind of pain.

  Jessy took a deep, shuddery breath and looked into his eyes once more. A faint smile curled the corner of her mouth and she moved beneath him, relaxing as she accepted him inside her. “Don’t be sorry,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  Michael’s eyes closed for a moment as he settled into her, feeling with exquisite clarity a sense of completeness. They would never again have this moment of discovery, but Michael knew that this was only the beginning. And he knew that Jessy felt the same way. She had given herself to him, had given him a gift that he would treasure for the rest of his life.

  “I love you too,” he said quietly, gazing into her eyes. And he knew, in that shared moment, that they would have the rest of their lives to keep proving it to each other. “I love you—”

  Jessy welcomed him with another slow kiss, and as the first light of dawn peeked through the bedroom window, she gazed into his dark eyes and watched as her pleasure was mirrored in his expressions, echoed in his throaty growls and her softer cries. She had never known a man could be so tender; he touched her as if she were made of spun glass, so gentle as he moved over her, inside her. The momentary pain had faded into an almost unbearable pleasure as his breathing grew harsher and his movement gradually quickened. Control slipped away form her as she matched his moves, instinctively growing bolder and more desperate for release with each passing moment.

  Finally she could bear no more. She trembled as pleasure rippled through her, then opened her eyes just as Michael shuddered, hovering over her with his eyes squeezed shut and his entire face tight with release. After a moment, his entire body went lax and he opened his eyes to look at her once more, a shaky but tender smile slowly spreading over his lips. Jessy managed to return the smile, gasping as she struggled to catch her breath.

  “Out of practice, huh?” She grinned as he laughed softly and rolled her into his arms. The sense of loneliness she had known for so long was gone now, replaced by a happiness, a contentment, that was frightening in its intensity. Michael’s hand moved lazily over the length of her back as she burrowed closer to his chest, loving the smell, the feel, the warmth of him. Her entire life had led her to this one moment, this one man.

  And she wanted it to last forever.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “I should be out doing chores,” Michael whispered, bundling Jessy closer to his chest as he slowly stroked the length of her back. She nuzzled into his chest hair, spanning her hand over his stomach as she pressed soft kisses along his throat and shoulder.

  “Take the day off.”

  Michael chuckled. “Tell that to the cows.”

  Jessy raised her head and kissed him again, loving the way he instantly responded to her touch. She could not get enough of him, could never tire of feeling his hands on her body, of tasting his skin against her lips. And most miraculous of all, she knew that he felt the same about her. There was no question of his feelings for her, no doubts or hesitations.

  It was the greatest gift that she had ever known.

  Michael rolled Jessy beneath him, cradling her in one arm as he slowly broke away from the kiss with soft nibbles to her lips and chin, trailing his mouth along her jaw, her throat, along the line of her collarbone to her breasts. Jessy gave herself to him completely, unashamed of her body now that she’d shared it with him, smiling in contentment as he traced the curve of her breasts with his hands and mouth. He raised his head slightly, brow furrowed wh
en he saw the smile on her face.

  “Am I amusing you?” he asked with a grin, teasing her left nipple with a flick of his tongue.

  Jessy tangled her fingers in his tousled hair, watching him as he moved to her right breast. “I just had a vision of my imminent nymphomania, thanks to you.”

  Michael’s grin slowly spread, deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes, and Jessy was struck again by the gentleness, the tenderness, of his gaze. His eyes reflected his every emotion, and at that moment, as he looked at her with such love and affection, Jessy felt as though she were the only woman in the world.

  “Imminent nymphomania, huh?” Michael’s smile curved wickedly as he returned his attention to her breasts once more, his hand stroking her stomach, moving ever lower. “I’ve created a monster.”

  Jessy laughed softly, lifting his face back to hers for another kiss. Her smile slowly melted away as Michael’s lips, so soft and warm, found hers once again. The kiss began gently, growing deeper, more desperate with each heartbeat. They wouldn’t have much time; soon the sun would be rising and the kids would be waking up and their first night together would be over.

  But it was only the first night. The first of many more to come.

  Michael moved easily over her body, fitting into her with an ease that took both their breaths away. She held him close as they silently moved together, muffling her cries against his mouth, his throat, as he brought her closer and closer to the edge—

  And someone knocked at the door.

  “Daddy!” Ben’s voice sounded breathless with excitement. “Uncle Frank is here!”

  “Come on, Daddy!” Marie chimed in, pounding on the door. “Why’s the door locked?”

  Michael stopped moving, burying his head in Jessy’s hair for a moment as he groaned. Jessy laughed softly, despite the interruption, and kissed his temple as Ben and Marie kept knocking and calling for him.

  “You’d better answer them,” she whispered.

  Michael raised his head, keeping his face so close to hers that she could see her reflection in his eyes. “Sorry, baby—”