by Marilyn Lee
"Yes."
"Are you fucking her?"
He didn't respond and I wanted to cry. "Are you going to marry her?"
"I'm not sure."
"What about me?"
He kissed my shoulder. "I want you in my bed, no matter what happens."
My eyes filled with tears. "It's not just sex for me, Marc. I care about you."
"You're very young. It's easy to get confused, Lena."
"I'm not so young that I don't know the difference between love and lust."
He stared down at me. "Love? Is that what you think this is? It's good between us. It's great. But it's sex."
"I don't know what you feel, Marc, but I know what I feel."
He pulled me gently into his arms. "Lena."
I shoved against his shoulders. "I have to go. You probably want to see her."
His arms tightened around me and he pressed his lower body against mine. I felt his cock, hot and hard against my stomach. "Does this feel like I want to leave you for another woman?"
"I want more from you than just your big dick!"
"I need time."
"Time for what? Are you still fucking her?"
"You were the one who insisted we fuck last night!"
The combination of anger and embarrassment was too much. I slapped him. "You miserable bastard! I don't ever want to see you again."
I tried to scramble off the bed, but he caught my arm, rolled me over onto my back, and slid his big, hard body on top of me. "Then I'd better have one last fuck before you go."
I wish I could say that he forced me, but he didn't. I was addicted to him and his magnificent cock. He kissed me and I became a wild woman. Kissing and touching him, clutching his hips, shoving mine up against his. "Please. I need your cock in me!"
"Oh you're gonna get it, baby." He finger fucked me a few minutes to get me wet and slippery. Then he shoved forward, filling every inch of my pussy with rigid cock.
He began a deep frenzied fuck, drilling me mercilessly until I lost track of how many times I came on him. Finally I'd had enough and lay limp and purring under him like a satisfied kitten. Groaning, he continued to thrust deeply until he'd emptied his nuts in me.
*****
"Do you have to go?"
I closed the second suitcase on my bed and turned to answer Maria. I'd come straight from Marc's apartment and began packing. "Yes. I feel so…cheap. I need to be home with Mom."
Maria hugged me and we cried together. "I can't get him out of my system. If I stay here, I'll wind up in his bed again and again. When we're together, I do things that shame me later. But I can't stop wanting to do them."
I took stock of myself on the long drive to my parents' upstate home. I didn't like what I saw. I'd run after Marc knowing full well that he had a woman without caring how she must feel.
Mom took one look at me and knew. But instead of the condemnation I'd expected, I saw love and understanding in her eyes. "Can you talk about him?"
I shook my head.
She gave me a hug and let me cry in her arms.
It was good to be home, but when Maria called a week later and told me Marc had been to the apartment, I felt my hopes rising. "What-what did he say?"
"I gave him your parents' address. I hope it was okay."
"No! Yes. Oh, I don't know."
I spent a miserable weekend waiting for him to come. Every time a car came up the lane, I held my breath. I gave up hope of his coming late Sunday night.
I was lying in a hammock on the following Friday afternoon dreading going back to Philadelphia on Sunday when my mother came into the yard. "Lena, there's someone to see you."
I ran through the short list of people I hadn't yet seen and came up blank. "Who is it, Mom?"
"He says his name is Marc Walker."
I jumped up. "Marc? He's—here…?"
"If you don't want to see him, I'll tell him to go."
"No! I'll…" I patted my hair, wishing I was wearing something more glamorous than jeans and a tee shirt. "Where is he?"
"In the living room."
He was pacing back and forth when I entered the room. He smiled when he saw me. "Hey."
I shook my head and held up a hand meant to keep him from coming any closer. "Why are you here?"
He seemed surprised by the question. "To see you."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I told Catherine that it was over between us. I'd like to—would you come back to Philadelphia with me?"
My first inclination was to yell a resounding yes, but I fought back the urge. "I don't think so."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Lena, I—okay. Will you at least allow me to come up here to see you?"
I felt so happy I felt as if I could float. "Why?"
"Why?" He paced the floor in front of me. "Because I want—I need to see you. Please tell me you still want me."
"Maria told me you were at the apartment last weekend. What took you so long?" All my noble notions of how badly I'd behaved toward Catherine Edmond were washed away by my jealousy. "Were you with her having a last roll in the hay?"
"I haven't touched Catherine since I met you."
"Then where have you been? What have you been doing?" I hated the fact that I sounded so jealous but I couldn't seem to help it. "Who have you been with?"
His gaze turned frigid, but I didn't flinch. For once I felt on even ground with him. This time he had sought me out. "Well? Where were you?"
"There is no one else. But before I could come to you, I had to tell her it was over. I owed her that much. I've treated you both very badly, but her worse than you."
I couldn't deny that, but I wasn't backing off. "And that took a week?"
"She avoided me. It took me a week to find her staying at her aunt's home in California." He sighed. "She was hoping I'd get over you before I found her."
"Did you?"
"No! It would take more than a week to get over you."
His voice was soft now and his eyes were warm. I felt my stomach muscles churning with desire. "What—what will it take?"
"I don't know. I don't want to know." He grinned at me. "I don't want to be over you."
That was enough to start with. I flung myself into his arms. His lips were soft and very gentle against mine. He lifted his head after just a few moments, allowing me to gaze into his eyes. "Oh, Marc. You mean it's not just…sex for you anymore?"
He gathered both my trembling hands in one of his against his chest. With his other hand, he wiped the tears from my cheeks. "I don't know that it was ever just sex, Lena. I know I said that's what it was, but…believe it or not, I don't sleep around. And I don't cheat." He looked at me and grimaced. "Well, at least not until I met you. I just know I want to be with you."
"I need you, Marc," I whispered, afraid even now to admit that I loved him.
He bent his head and kissed me very gently. "And I need you."
"You mean you want me."
"I mean exactly what I say. I know the difference between need and want. I need you, Lena."
"Just need, Marc? Not love?"
He shrugged, looking helpless. "I don't know that I've ever really been in love. I'm not sure what it feels like. I just know that when I think about the future, you're always in the picture. Give me another chance? Let's explore our feelings for each other. I have a feeling we'll discover you are not the only one in love here."
Okay, so it wasn't a marriage proposal—yet. It wasn't even the full admission of love I was longing for—yet. But it was a big step in the right direction and I was suddenly confident that both a full admission of love and a marriage proposal would be forthcoming before long.
He’d given up his supermodel and came after me.
And I do love him. I'm hoping that means he loves me too. In the meantime, I only know that being with him is all that matters to me. For now. But the look in his eyes gives me hope that he's in this for the long haul.
Just to help him see what he'll be
getting on a regular basis when he fully commits to me, I intend to take him out back and along the trail behind the house. And when we're deep enough in the woods surrounding the house, I'm going to go down on my knees, unzip his pants, uncork that lovely cock of his and suck on it like a lollipop until he comes in my mouth. Then I'm gonna show him how awesome a love-motivated fuck can be.
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WHITE HEAT
I woke in the middle of the night to the totally delightful sensation of Steve's naked body sliding up mine, his rock hard cock nestled between the lips of my pussy. His warm lips nibbled at that special spot on my neck just below my left ear. That never failed to infuse my whole body with heat and need for him.
"Oh, Steve…" I wrapped my arms around his neck, rubbing my mound against his throbbing dick.
"Yeah, girl." His deep voice held a question.
He never took my acquiescence for granted, even after twelve years of marriage. Even when I was clinging to his neck, a trembling mass of need for his big, sleek, ebony cock.
"Yes," I pleaded, lovingly massaging the hard muscles of his rump. "Oh yes, lover. Yes."
"Yeah, Tasha, girl." He settled his hips firmly on mine, slowly sliding the big head of his dick into my waiting, wet body. I shuddered and nearly came. There was nothing in the world half as exquisite as the first electric touch of his big cock. Moaning in anticipation of the pleasure I knew was coming, I threw my hips upward, greedily enveloping him into my clenching body. I knew he loved to have me wrap my legs around his waist and undulate my body against his like a wave breaking against the shore as he pumped his hard, pulsating length deep inside me.
Sex that night was particularly hot and explosive. I lost track of how many times we pushed and pumped and pounded each other into sweet, searing bliss. He came in me again and again. When we finally fell apart, I felt his sticky cum leak out of my sated pussy and drip down my thigh.
"Damn, girl, that was good!"
"It was de-LICIOUS, Detective Long," I countered.
He was gone when I woke again later that morning. I sat up and looked at my night table. When Steve left for work before I woke, he often left a note.
Last night was the bomb, girl. Keep that tight wet pussy of yours ready for me.
Smiling, I sank back against the pillow and continued reading.
Jake and I will be part of an undercover sting, so I probably won't see you until tomorrow. But don't worry. Jake's got my back. Love you, girl. Steve.
I laid there smiling as I remembered our early morning lovemaking until I heard JR's bedroom door open. "Mom! Mom, you awake?" JR was a healthy ten-year-old with an excellent pair of lungs.
I glanced at my bedside clock and groaned. It was barely seven o'clock. Steve and I almost needed a crane to get JR out of bed at seven on school mornings.
"Be there in a sec," I called and scrambled out of bed. Later that morning when JR was heading to the Poconos with his scout troop, I was in the living room ironing with the radio tuned to the local news station when I heard the beeping sound that signaled a special bulletin.
"This just in," the newscaster announced. "A police officer was seriously wounded this afternoon in a shoot out in the East Park section of the city. The officer's name is being withheld until his next of kin can be notified."
With a pounding heart, I sat the iron down and looked around for the cordless phone. It was on the sideboard. During the ten years Steve had been on the force, we'd developed a system. Whenever he heard about a police officer getting hurt or killed, either he or Jake would call me ASAP to let me know they were okay. They'd never taken more than an hour to call, even when they were on a stake out.
Two hours later, as I was getting really scared, the doorbell rang. He'd come instead of calling. "Thank you, Lord," I whispered and ran through the house and threw open the door. "Steve! I—”
But it was Steve's partner, Jake Diamond. One look at his pale face and I started shaking. "Jake! I heard about the shooting. Steve was shot, wasn't he?"
He swallowed several times and nodded.
I grabbed his shirt. "Oh God, Jake! How bad is he? What hospital have they taken him to?"
"Honey—I…"
I looked past him and saw his car, a dark sedan, parked haphazardly at the curb. "I'll just get my purse and we can go to him. Please God, let him be okay."
Feeling more afraid than I'd ever felt before, I started to walk away. I'd only reached the living room door before Jake grabbed me and turned me to face him. "Honey, I don't know how to say this, but—”
I tried to pull away. "Jake, we can talk later! I just need to get to him now."
His grip on my arms tightened and part of me died as I saw the tears welling in his eyes. "Honey…honey…he didn't make it."
"What?"
"I'm so sorry, but he—he died at the scene."
"No! You liar!" I tore myself away from him and began hitting him with my fists. "You lying bastard! He's not dead! He can't be! He said you had his back! Why are you still alive when he's dead? Why are you still alive? You bastard!"
He made no effort to stop me from hitting him and I continued pummeling his body until I collapsed, sobbing hysterically. Then he was on his knees beside me, crying with me and trying to hold me in his arms.
"Take your hands off me!" I screamed. "How could you let him get killed? Where were you when he needed you?"
He stared at me, tears mixing with the blood I'd drawn on his face. "Honey, honey, please…"
"Don't you honey me. Don't you ever call me that again! You get out! I never want to see your white behind again!"
"You don't mean that. You can't mean that!"
"I do! I do! Get out! Now!"
The following days passed in a blur. The house was filled with family, friends, and police officers offering condolences and just sitting with me and JR. I couldn't feel anything. I'd seen Steve's body, but I couldn't accept that he really was dead until I saw Jake again. Then it all came back. I felt a wave of hate wash over me that he was alive while my husband was dead.
"Get out of here!"
He spread his hands helplessly. "Honey, please, I would have died to save him. You know that!"
"Then why aren't you dead too?"
I heard the gasps of the others gathered and knew they were shocked, but I couldn't help hating the sight of Jake.
"Tasha, baby, you don't mean that." My mother squeezed my shoulders and looked at Jake. "She's upset. She doesn't mean—"
"I do mean it!" I pulled away from my mother and stormed over to stare up at Jake. His face still bore the traces of the bruising from where I'd battered him and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from clawing my nails down his face. "Get out and don't come back! JR and I don't ever want to see you again."
"Mom!" JR grabbed my hand in protest. "Mom, we need Uncle Jake."
"He's not your uncle, JR. He's the man who let your father get killed!"
Jake blanched and turned and walked out of the house. I didn't see him again until the funeral. I allowed him to be a pallbearer because I knew that's what Steve would have wanted, but I refused to allow him to come back to the house afterwards.
The weeks following Steve's funeral were horrible. I fell asleep every night, reliving our last night together. I savored the remembrance of how wildly we’d made love. Knowing I'd never experience that joy again was almost more than I could bear.
Jake called often, but I couldn't talk to him.
"Girl, you know that man would have died for Steve," my best friend Tia said one night after I'd again refused to take Jake's call.
"The man is white," I said bitterly. "And because of that my Steve is dead."
"What does that—” she sighed. “You know Steve trusted him with his life."
"And look where it got him. I don't want him anywhere near me or JR ever again."
&n
bsp; She gave me an angry pat. "Oh, so it's all about what you want. Well, what about want JR wants and needs?"
"JR doesn't want to see him either."
"Girl, you are talking foolish and you know it. You know how JR feels about him and you know how Steve felt about him. I am not going to sit here listening to this. You know in your heart that if there was anything that man could have done to save Steve, he would have. Or have you conveniently forgotten that he got shot three years ago because he jumped in front of a bullet meant for Steve?"
"So what. It was just a scratch."
"He was in the hospital a week!"
I stared at her with angry tears streaming down my cheeks. "Fine! But this time he let him get killed!"
"Girl, get a grip. Remember he and Steve were friends since high school. How do you think he's feeling?"
I guess I knew she was right, but I needed someone to hate. And at six foot two and roughly a hundred and ninety pounds, Jake made a nice sized target. "So?"
She hugged me. "So? You know you and JR are all he has. He needs to be with you."
I shook my head. "No."
"Yes." She gripped my hands. "You've kept him away for over four months. You think that's what Steve would have wanted?"
That shook me because I knew it wasn't. Steve had often told me that Jake was like the brother he'd never had. "I don't know."
"Tash, do the right thing." She sighed, shaking her head. "If you'd talked to him just now, you would have heard how…I'm afraid for him. Call him to make sure he's all right."
"So now I'm supposed to be his keeper?"
"No. Just a friend. As he's been yours and Steve's for years. Don't you think he needs a friend right now?"
"He has other friends."
"None as close as you and Steve. You know that. Tash, the man sounded as if…you'd better call him. Tonight. Now."
I shook my head. "I wouldn't know what to say to him. The breech between us is too wide now."
"Narrow it. Go see him."
I thought of the things I'd said to him. Things I couldn't take back. Things I didn't want to take back. "I can't leave JR alone."
