by Kim Karr
Breathless, he touches his nose to mine. Leans in to my neck. Wraps a piece of my hair around his fingers.
I can’t breathe. “We should stop.”
“Yeah,” he manages, catching his own breath. “I want to take you someplace.”
Sliding off him, I get in my seat, no longer cold, instead now both hot and bothered, but so deliciously happy. “Where?” I ask shrugging out of my wool coat.
That sexy mouth quirks up. “You’ll see.”
I shake my head, realizing that trying to get anything else out of him is hopeless.
Soon enough, he’s bobbing and weaving through cars on M-10N.
“Are we going to your mother’s?” I ask as we head toward Bloomfield.
He glances over me with those languid dark eyes. “Nope.”
I laugh, rueful. “Then where?”
The cat that caught the canary is the look he gives me.
“Pfttt.” My lips move like a motorboat and I cross my arms.
Jasper makes a low purring noise. “I love when you do that.”
I shake my head. “You’re so infuriating.”
“I’ll remind you of that later when you’re begging me to put my mouth on your pussy.”
“Jasper! You have such a dirty mouth. And I do not beg,” I add.
He raises a brow. “Yeah, you do, Charlotte.”
Heat rises up my chest. “I do not.”
“Charlotte.” His voice dips low.
I turn to look at him.
“I’ll be happy to be the one begging later,” he murmurs.
Triumph flares in my gaze. “Then I’ll be happy to let you put your mouth between my thighs.”
He licks his lips once, then again, before flashing me a wolfish grin.
Twenty minutes later he’s pulling into a long brick driveway that leads to the most beautiful sprawling Cape Cod-style house with copper gutters and a cedar shingle roof sitting on Turtle Lake. “Why are we here?” I ask, reaching for my coat.
“Just come with me,” he says getting out of the car. “And you don’t need that.”
Leaving my coat behind, I quickly smooth my hair and then hurry to meet him as he waits for me at the front of the car with his hand outstretched. Our fingers lace as we approach the front steps.
One.
Two.
Three.
And we’re standing on a covered porch. I wait for him to ring the doorbell, but he surprises me when he uses his keys to unlock the door. “What are you doing?”
Without answering me, he picks me up and carries me over the threshold like he’s Prince Charming and I’m his princess.
He’s never picked me up like this.
Inside, the house is empty.
He sets me down without saying a word. His body is trembling. His face flushed.
Nerves?
My head is buzzing as I look around the entry area. I find my body rotating to take it all in. The beautiful wood floors, the large open space, and the spectacular view of the lake, which is the only thing you can see out the massive windows.
“Charlotte. Will you look at me?”
I finish pirouetting back around only to gasp in utter surprise.
Jasper is on the floor on one knee. A small velvet box in his hand. A hopeful look in his eyes. When our heated gazes meet, he opens the box and something shiny glitters inside, bright enough to make me gasp again.
“Charlotte Lane, you were the best part of my life growing up and I want you to be the best part my life as I grow old. Will you marry me?”
My hands fly to my mouth and tears stream down my cheeks as I take him all in. The ring he’s now holding between his fingers flashes so brilliantly in the light in the room and he’s looking at me like I’m his world. Like without me there could be no him.
And then I smile at him and softly say, “Yes.”
Slowly, he rises to his feet. Steps closer to me. When I look at him I see everything we are and everything we can be. “I can’t promise you things will always be easy, but I can promise you they will always be worth it.”
“Yes,” I say again.
Possibly a little bashful, he smiles back at me and holds the ring over my fingertip. “Yes?”
I nod and feel like I’m Cinderella swirling and swirling as my fairy godmother casts her wand upon me.
Jasper slides the ring all the way down.
I’m still in motion, sparkles of color twirling around me.
As soon as he glances up, I break out of the magic spell and shout, “Yes,” and throw my arms around him. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
For a moment we soak each other in. The love. The heat. The friendship. And then he lets out a breath and kisses me, hard. I kiss him back tasting not only him, but us. We. Him and me.
This time when I let go of him, it’s with a surreal feeling that never in my life will I ever really be letting go of him. I lean back to look at the beautiful stone and then back to see his beautiful face. I catch sight of the staircase, a large hallway leading to a kitchen, another hallway. “Where are we?” I murmur into his ear.
He looks down into my face and simply says, “Home.”
“Home?” I ask in surprise.
He nods. “We can move in anytime. The house is ours.”
I blink trying to take it all in.
He puts his hand on my belly. “We need a safe place to raise our child.”
Safe.
With him I know we will always be safe. Protected. Loved.
“Come on, let me show you the kitchen,” he says with excitement.
We cross the massive living room and into a room with a kitchen and family room that opens up to a large stone patio.
He rushes to the windows where a kitchen table would go. “I want to put a swimming pool in.” Jasper points to the open back yard. “And a swing set. And monkey bars. And maybe even a little race track.”
Tears streaming down my cheeks, I laugh as I walk over and wrap my arms around him. “That sounds perfect.” Resting my chin on his shoulder I squeeze him and think, how could I ever have doubted him?
Slowly, he turns. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”
There are fireplaces in the master bedroom, family room, and on the outdoor patio. A wet bar in the dining room. An office. Three other bedrooms. And a view that beats almost any I’ve ever seen.
Back in the large open kitchen with sparkling white marble counters and dark wood cabinets, I walk to the window over the sink and look out at the trees and lake and the bliss of it all.
“My mother could help you plant a flower garden out there,” he whispers in my ear, his arms going tight around me.
I nod. Speechless.
“You haven’t said much. Don’t you like it?” he asks concerned.
Twisting in his hold, I wrap my arms around his neck. “JJ,” I say, using his nickname I haven’t used in so long. “I . . . I.” I struggle with the words. Emotion clogs in my throat. “I have never been more happy in my entire life. This place is beautiful. You are beautiful. I just feel like this is all so surreal and any moment it’s all going to disappear.”
There’s a familiar look in his eyes. Gone is the boy with the bashful charm. He kisses me once. “That, Charlie Lane, is not going to happen.” He lifts me and turns, sitting me on the huge island. “This is real. This is happening.” He kisses me again and this time his hands slide under the hem of my skirt.
I take a deep breath and lean back on the counter, letting his hands and mouth explore my ever-changing body. I can feel the corners of his mouth curve upwards as he moves to kiss my stomach.
“You’re going to love it here,” he whispers to my belly.
My heart flutters with joy.
His lips course their way down my clothed body and even through the fabric, he makes me quiver.
I’m wearing a sweater, skirt, tights, and boots.
Seeming not at all bothered by the layers of fabric between us, Jasper continues to kiss down my body, ov
er my thighs, and back up. As he ascends my quivering legs, he eases my skirt up with his warm fingers.
I lift his chin.
His gaze meets mine.
I’m practically panting. “What are you doing?”
Sly like a fox’s grin, he nips at the fabric covering my pussy.
I gasp, “Jasper.”
“That’s it, Charlotte, beg.”
And so I do. Because I want this. Because I want him. “Please, Jasper.”
My skirt is up around my waist now. And he’s easing down my tights and panties, pulling them to the top of my knee-length boots, leaving my bare flesh exposed. “Please what, Charlotte?”
The marble is cool beneath my skin, but when his wet mouth blows hot, teasing, bursts of air against my pussy, I cry out, “Please put your mouth between my thighs.”
There’s a satisfied laugh that echoes in the large, empty space before he dips his mouth in a swooping lick that makes me shake even harder. With lust in his eyes, he spreads my legs as wide as he can with my tights at my knees, and then his hands slide beneath me and he pulls my body toward his mouth. My pussy clenches at his intimate touch.
When his tongue circles my clit, it starts throbbing immediately. His touch is hot. His breath is warm. His lips are wet. He licks. He dips. He sucks. He devours me. And way too soon, I am pulsating everywhere.
His gaze lifts. “You taste so goddamn good.”
Tiny shivers course through me.
His words murmur against me. “I can’t believe I get to taste you for the rest of my life.”
I open further, stretching the restraint of my tights as much as I can, and then I arch, offering my body to him. Giving him what always belonged to him. Always did. Always will.
He slides a finger inside me, and it feels so good. “Let go, Charlotte,” he says lifting his mouth from between my legs for only a few short seconds.
And when his lips touch my soft flesh again, I cry out and let myself go. Let him take me to that place only he has ever gone. My head falls and I arch my back as he licks, sucks, and kisses all of me. My toes curl as an exquisite sensation overcomes me, rocks me, makes me his. And in this single moment of ecstasy, my body trembles as he claims what’s always been his and I cry out with what can only be described as pure pleasure.
I look down at him. At the man who makes me feel. Feel everything. From the sound of voice, to his soft touch, to the way he looks at me. I feel it deep within my soul.
The nerves in my body jump when his lips rejoin mine. My fingers unbutton his pants and I mutter around his lips, “Do you want to go to our new room?”
His mouth opens to answer, but all that comes out is the word fuck, which sounds more like a groan. Before I can slide my fingers inside his waistband, his hand extends. “I’ll lead the way.”
Quickly removing my boots and tights, I’m off the counter and by his side in no time. With my lips on his neck, we ascend the stairs of a house we will make a home.
He stops inside the bedroom, but only long enough to kick his shoes off one at a time, and remove his shirt. And then he comes at me without hesitation. “I want to see you,” he whispers.
And I want to show him. I undress slowly. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I pull my sweater over my head, slower still I undo my bra and let it fall to the ground. The heat in his stare is a fire that looks like it will never burn out. Almost in slow motion, I slide my skirt over my hips, and as soon as it’s gone, my small bump comes to life. More obvious when I’m naked than clothed.
His eyes land on it, and he sucks in a breath. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathes.
Strong and confident, I reach my hand out for him.
He grips my hips and walks us backwards. When my thighs hit the built-in window seat, I find his pants and finish undoing his zipper. There’s no hesitation when he shoves them down. In the bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, he stands before me in his boxer briefs and my arousal escalates to an alarming level. It’s unlike me to swear, but fuck he is beautiful.
My heart goes thump, thump, and I can’t help but think of the first night we spent together. “Do you remember,” I whisper, “our first night together when both of us were so nervous to see each other naked. So scared to touch each other. Worried that what we shared as children would be jaded if we crossed the line from friends to lovers?”
He nips at my lip. “I do. I was even more nervous than you knew.”
Gently, I run my fingers down his chest. “I knew you were nervous, but I also knew there was no way what we shared could ever be jaded.”
To my surprise he doesn’t have a smartass comeback. “You were right to think that. What we have is something nothing can ever change.”
My left hand slides lower, my ring feeling perfect on my finger. “I love you, JJ Storm.”
“I love you, Charlie Lane,” he breathes.
Filled with so much joy, my fingers graze along the outside of the fabric—he is long and full and I have to see him. With a prowess I know he loves, I push him onto the bench and ease off those Calvin Kleins.
He groans. “I love when the kitten turns into a tiger.”
A seductive knowing smile curves my lips, but this time I don’t tell him I know that. Some things are more fun unsaid.
I’ve grown into a woman I am secure to be.
Because of him.
I’ve accepted my past.
Because of him.
I’ve found love in him.
Because of him.
Tiny blue flowers spread before me like bunches of small wild fires, but all I see when I look at them is the beauty they hold. Not the sad memories they once represented.
Because I know he will never forget me.
Emotion filling me, I cast my eyes down and admire the leanness of his body. It doesn’t reflect the fullness of his cock—but then again, it’s beautiful, just like him. And when I glance up and he looks at me with those languid brown eyes, my stomach flutters. I think it will be fluttering forever.
Yes, this man is model material, but it’s not only his looks that put me in a constant state of utter arousal—it’s everything he is. And when I look at him there’s only one thing I want—and that’s him.
All of him.
Now and forever.
NO TRAFFIC
Jasper
IF ANYONE WOULD have told me I’d turn out to be that guy, I would not have only sucker punched him to the jaw, but I probably would have made certain he swallowed his teeth too.
You know the guy.
The one in the commercial who’s fucking every chick in town and then looks at a couple making googly eyes at each other and says, “I’m never falling in love.” And then in the next frame he’s looking hopelessly into a girl’s eyes.
Soon enough the couple is walking down the street and they pass a family with a screaming kid, and the guy says, “We’re never having kids,” and his girl turns to him and says, “We’re pregnant.”
Then the three of them are sitting around a table in a very cool urban apartment, and the guy says, “We’re never moving to the suburbs,” and then poof, he buys a house in suburbia.
Notice I left the minivan out—that is never happening, that I can guarantee you. Anyway, I could go on and on, but I think you get my drift. My story can’t be told quite in that order, but pretty damn close.
The fire crackles behind me, the lights of the Christmas tree twinkle in the reflection of the window that overlooks the lake, and the smell of turkey wafts through the air. Sipping my drink, I look around at the house Charlotte and I are slowly making a home, and smile.
Furniture, dishes, and rugs surround us, but those are just things. What makes this house a home is the love we are filling it with.
We’ve been through a lot, but I think things are finally going to go our way. Sure, I carry a heavy guilt around with me every day that Alex hasn’t had to pay for his sins, yet I know, at the same time, this city would have never have s
urvived another corruption scandal. Maybe the ends don’t justify the means—but maybe, just maybe, they do.
“Who’s going to say grace?” Drew’s mom, Mrs. Kates, asks looking toward her son, pulling me from my dark thoughts.
I shove Alex out of my head.
“Don’t look at me,” Drew says to his mother.
“I’ll do it,” Jake pipes up.
Mrs. Crown pats Jake’s hand.
He stands up, Shannon looking at him with a look I know all too well in her eyes. Somehow, Pretty Boy let go of his dirty boy issues and is giving the relationship thing a try. I’m kind of proud of him. He clinks his glass with a spoon.
“Hey, Pretty Boy, Mrs. Kates said grace, not a toast,” Will mumbles.
Will’s mother leans over and whispers something into his ear. Using Alex’s contacts, Whitney was able to get her into one of the rehabilitation centers. She’s doing really well, so well in fact, that she was allowed a pass to join us for Christmas.
When his mother sits back, Will clears his throat. “Sorry, Jake, go on,” he mutters and takes Whitney’s hand in his and then his mother’s too.
I laugh so hard I can’t help myself.
My mother’s looming stare and tightening grip tell me I should shut up because I might be the next one to get scolded.
It seems the four women of Cass Corridor, who didn’t bond when their boys were younger, have now decided to jump on the bandwagon and join forces to try to control their grown sons’ antics.
Funny thing is—they’re doing it.
While Jake gives thanks for everything we have, I look over to my wife who is sitting beside me.
Beautiful.
Vibrant.
Fucking amazing.
Forgoing a long engagement, we got married a couple of weeks after I proposed. I didn’t want to wait and neither did she. She wore white. I wore a tux. Yes a tux. I even bought new dress shoes. We had a small ceremony and celebrated with everyone we care about. Even after we exchanged vows, nothing has really changed between Charlotte and I because the truth is—we’ve always belonged to each other.
Charlotte’s belly is now noticeably round and her breasts equally so. Dirty thoughts cross my mind. They’re on how much I love to suck those round tits, caress them, and cradle them in my hands. Then my mind goes clean when I look at her belly. At our unborn son. And I can’t help but think about what Charlotte has done to me. How she has made me a better man.
