by Josie Kerr
Em moved her body closer, pressing her breasts to his chest while dragging one hand down the length of his body. Her hand brushed his groin and she hesitated. She moved her hands under his soft boxer briefs and gently cupped his balls. His breath hitched for a moment, but then he relaxed into her hands. She looked into his eyes, continuing to stroke his hard length.
“Will you let me do something to make you feel good?”
Mick swallowed and licked his lips. He blew out his breath. “Okay?”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
Mick’s only answer was a soft chuckle.
Em pushed him gently over onto his back. She started to lift his shirt, but he resisted, shaking his head. She nodded, and touched her lips to his. She gazed at Mick’s handsome face. His eyes were still screwed tight, but the large bulge in his black boxer briefs told of his arousal. She palmed his erection through the material of his shorts, and began working them down over his hips and legs. His erect cock slapped against his belly when freed from the soft material. He was now bare from the waist down, and his hands were balled up in fists.
Em stroked his hard cock. He was both long and thick. She circled her fingers around the base, and placed a soft kiss on the head, thinking that it was a really good thing that she didn’t have a gag reflex.
“So, can I do this?” Em dragged her tongue along the vein that throbbed on the underside of his stiff shaft.
“Yeah?”
Em moved back to his face, whispering small encouragements and placing light kisses on his eyelids, temples, and jaw. She moved down his body, kissing his chest and abdomen through the soft material of his t-shirt. She moved between his legs, spreading them. She leaned over and circled the head with her tongue, licking off the bit of moisture at the tip. Mick sucked in a breath.
She took the head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Her hands stroked Mick’s hips and his hard abs. She ran her tongue down the length of his shaft and kissed the base of his cock as she stroked his hard length. She took more of his cock in her mouth, humming around it and tonguing the underside of his shaft. He almost came off the bed when she pulled one of his balls into her mouth while she stroked the sensitive space just behind them.
Mick had moved his hands to her head, wrapping them in her hair. Em looked up and caught Mick’s scorching look as he watched her suck the head of his cock. She slowly took his length in her mouth, swallowing him down and opening her throat to take him all, all the while keeping her eyes glued to his.
She gripped his powerful thighs as she began to move. Mick couldn’t help his natural thrusting and Em continued moving her head with his rhythm. Mick felt the orgasm building in his back, and his breathing changed.
“Em...” he said in warning.
Em responded by taking him deeper down her throat as she prepared for his climax. He groaned her name as his cock twitched and Em swallowed down everything he gave, still sucking and humming around his cock.
After his climax ended, Mick sank into the mattress, his limbs heavy and relaxed.
“Dear God, so that’s what all the fuss is about,” he said breathlessly.
He stroked the back of Em’s head where it lay on his abdomen. At one look at the expression on Mick’s face, Em stated, “No one’s ever done this for you.”
He licked his lips. “Grace had an insane gag reflex. She could barely brush her teeth without yucking. Add that to morning sickness, and she wasn’t too keen on giving oral pleasure.” He shrugged and grinned nervously. “So no, not really.”
Em kissed his softening cock, then made her way back up his body, kissing and nipping at his torso and neck. When they were face to face, Mick tucked her hair behind her ear and started to kiss her on the mouth.
“Wait, let me brush my teeth before...” Mick pulled her head down to him and caught her mouth in a deep kiss before she could finish her sentence. He could taste himself on her and decided that was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.
Em smiled against his mouth and kissed him again. She kissed his eyes and each cheek, and settled down against the pillows, pulling him against her, his big body sprawled in sated relaxation. He drifted to sleep, his head nestled in the hollow between her breasts.
*****
A soft kiss on his check awakened Mick.
“Hey there. I didn’t mean to wake you. I have an early presentation to prep for. I’ll come by when I’m finished?” Em stroked his face as she posed the question.
“Yeah, come by when you’re finished, please.” Mick searched Em’s face for some clue as to what she feeling, her expression inscrutable. She kissed him again and squeezed his shoulder, giving him a small smile. He grinned as he realized that when she left, she was still wearing only his t-shirt.
He rolled over and put his face in the pillows, inhaling deeply the scent of oranges and vanilla left by Em’s body. Her scent prompted a heaviness in his balls and the hardening of his cock. He threw the covers back and looked at the reaction to her scent. He had slept without briefs and his hard cock was winking up at him. He lazily stroked the head, remembering Em’s warm mouth.
Mick exhaled with a small chuckle. He knew he wasn’t going to get relief unless he took matters into his own hands.
He went into the bathroom, his erection leading the way. He turned on the shower, took off his shirt, and looked at himself in the full length mirror. He was still tightly muscled, though not as hard and big as he was when he was still actively training. His heavily tattooed torso and arms still looked good, he supposed. He turned and looked at his ass. A little flabby maybe? He clenched his butt cheeks. Nah, still good.
He turned back around and touched the large tattoo that covered the entirety of one side of his ribcage. He touched the five names on his left pec.
Mick surveyed himself one last time in the mirror, flexing his big arms and stiff cock, and then got in the shower. He stepped under the scalding water, letting it pound him on the back. He ran his hands over his body, thinking about Em.
As he worked his shaft, he decided that he needed to find some of that orange stuff that Em used. Remembering both her firm grip on his cock with her small, soft hands and her hot mouth enveloping his hard length, Mick came explosively with a loud groan that sounded a lot like Em’s name.
Showered and mostly relieved but still semi-hard, Mick wandered into the kitchen for coffee. Maybe caffeine would clear his muddled head.
As he waited for the coffee to brew, he considered Em. She was beautiful and smart. She made him feel cherished like he hadn’t felt in years, and it wasn’t just because of the physical intimacy.
He smiled when he saw the cake on the prissy cake plate. When had she made this? He opened the note next to the cake.
Michael,
I made this for your birthday. Have some for breakfast. You deserve something sweet. I’ll see you soon.
Em
XO
P.S. I know your birthday was two days ago. Work with me.
He dipped his finger in a bit of icing and stole a pecan off the top of the cake. He would wait to share it with Em. Cake was always better when shared with a friend.
Mick wandered back into his bedroom, coffee in hand. He leaned against the door jamb, looking at the bed, both pillows dented where their heads had rested earlier. It had been a long time since he had shared a bed with someone. It was just as nice as he remembered, and it was something he could get used to.
Chapter 24
Mick pretended to work for a few hours but in reality, all he could think about was the previous evening’s activities. Em had called earlier, apologizing for not being able to come by after what was turning out to be a marathon schedule revision session.
“It’s going to be really late when we get finished, Mick. You shouldn’t wait for me.”
Mick dismissed her protests with a scoff. “Come by whenever you get finished. We’ve got cake to eat, remember?”
Em laughed her tinkling laugh—man,
he really liked the sound of that—and promised him she would.
Suddenly motivated, Mick spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up long-overdue paperwork and working on new arrangements. The afternoon stretched into evening, and then evening into night.
After giving up hope that Em would be by, Mick sat listening to some instrumental Celtic music when he heard a soft knock on his door. He bounded from the couch, but then forced himself to slow down and not appear too eager.
He opened the door to see Em’s back as she made her way to the stairs.
“Em,” was all he said.
She turned her head and a wide smile brightened up Em’s face. B’y , she’s so pretty.
Em walked back to where Mick leaned on the door jamb. “I didn’t knock very loud in case you were asleep. I told you it was going to be late.”
Mick grinned and motioned for her to come into the house.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“Yeah, we ordered in,” Em said. Her brown eyes were tired behind her glasses, and she stifled a yawn. She was exhausted, and tomorrow she was going to do it all over again, but she wasn’t going to miss a chance to see Mick when she was going out of town in a few days.
Mick’s face clouded. “Em, you’re exhausted. I didn’t mean for you to feel obligated to stop by.”
Em waved him off. “I wanted to see you, Mick, even though I saw you this morning.” She turned pink at the mention of the morning, suddenly shy.
Mick closed the distance between them and gathered her into his arms. Em automatically wrapped her hands behind his back and rested her head on his broad chest. She gave him a squeeze.
“You know, I was promised cake,” she said, looking up at him. “I heard the baker was phenomenal.” Mick squeezed her back and gave her a wink.
Mick pulled out a kitchen chair, ignoring Em’s protests that she should cut and serve, and soon returned with two slices of cake and two glasses of milk.
He groaned after he swallowed the first bite of cake. “That baker needs to be arrested. Nothing should taste this good.” Em blushed prettily at his compliments.
She looked at him as he ate, noticing a hint of sadness in his silvery blue eyes. Em reached out and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Has it been a long time since you’ve celebrated your birthday?”
“Yeah, it has,” he said quietly. Em waited for him to continue. “We decided to get married on my birthday because that day was always one of the worst for me when I was growing up. Grace thought that by getting married on that date, it would kind of negate some of the bad stuff.”
“Oh, Mick,” Em breathed. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just squeezed his hand again.
“I was 12 before I ever remember getting a cake or even something other than berated about how I ruined my mother’s life. Rory, being the busy-nose that he is, found out it was my birthday, and he and Grace showed up at the shitty apartment that we lived in. I was completely mortified. Moira wasn’t home, thank God. But they showed up with homemade cupcakes, and I was an asshole. I was so worried that Moira was going to come back and make a scene in front of them that I grabbed the plate and shut the door in their faces. I don’t think I even said thank you.
“I was in the middle of eating the cupcakes in my room when Moira got home. She snatched the half-eaten one out of my hand and threw it away and then threw the rest out. Then she proceeded to beat the shit out of me, but it was completely worth it. I might have been barely able to walk the next day, but someone had taken the time to celebrate the fact that I existed and that was pretty fucking special.”
Em’s fingers fluttered over the inked designs on his arms. Mick grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss on her fingers.
“Thank you, Em,” he said. “I mean it.”
Em blinked, desperate not to cry. She patted his hand again and stood up, gathering the plates and glasses. Mick sat at the kitchen table and watched her rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. When she finished tidying up, she sat back down at the table and took his hand again.
“I’ll see you soon?” she asked.
“Yeah, you’ll see me soon,” Mick said with a smile. “Come by whenever you want to or can. I don’t sleep much.” Em nodded, then placed a soft kiss on Mick’s lips and left his apartment.
******
Mick was in the middle of debating whether it would seem pushy and desperate to ask when he could see Em again when Rory called. Mick picked up the phone, somewhat embarrassed about his previous rudeness.
“So do you have something to share with the class?” Rory’s question came out suspiciously benign.
“I’m sorry that I cussed you, Rory.”
Rory was shocked at Mick’s apology. He didn’t think that Mick had ever apologized to him, not once in almost 30 years.
He cleared his throat. “Em said she saw you the other night. I want to know, or then again, maybe I don’t, just how much of you she saw.”
Mick was quiet a moment, trying to gauge exactly how much he should tell his friend. “Um, maybe she saw to third base...I think.”
“How on Earth did you get a girl knocked up twice and still have no idea what base you’re on?” Rory laughed.
“Maybe remember I hit a home run the first time at bat, thanks to that crappy rubber she got from her brother,” Mick said, irritated.
“Ugh okay! I don’t need to know about broken rubbers and my sister. I am getting you some big boy condoms, though, just in case.”
Mick was quiet.
“Oh, you aren’t feeling guilty, are you?” Rory’s voice softened. “It’s been over 20 years. You don’t need to feel guilty. It’s not like you’re going to forget her.”
“I forgot to call you that night.”
“Truthfully, I’m kind of glad. That means that you had something else occupying your mind.”
“That’s what worries me. Em deserves to be more than a receptacle for my forgetting.”
“So she was a receptacle!”
“God no, she wasn’t! She made me...feel better, though. A whole lot better.”
“I think if you’re worried about using her, then you just guaranteed that you won’t. So, what’s next?”
“I think we need to go on a proper date.”
“Okay, Casanova, I am definitely dropping off some extra-large rubbers after work.”
“I can get my own damn condoms, thank you very much, Rory.”
“Famous last words, Mick, famous last words.”
Thankfully, Rory didn’t come over with a case of condoms, though truthfully, Mick was completely overwhelmed at the choices at the drugstore. Latex, non-latex, lambskin, lubricated, spermicidal, ribbed, reservoir tip —he had total option paralysis until he realized that there were only a few extra-large choices available. He wasn’t taking chances this time. If genetics were a clue, Em was still squarely in baby-making range and lord knows, neither of them was up for that.
Mick heard Em come home and he immediately ran up to her apartment before he lost his nerve.
Mick knocked on the door and waited. Em opened the door and smiled shyly at him.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Would you like to join me for supper?”
“Like on a date?”
“Yeah, a proper date.”
Her face split into a broad grin. “Why yes, Michael Brennan, I would love to go on a proper date with you.”
“Is tomorrow at 8:30 too soon?”
“No, it’s perfect.”
“Perfect.”
They stood grinning like idiots at each other until Em shooed him away, saying she needed to take care of some things before she had a proper date with her handsome neighbor.
Mick pumped his fist as he went down the stairs.
Chapter 25
Mick stared at her, mouth agape. Em shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She cleared her throat. “Um, am I not dressed appropriately?”
“B’y, you’re some ni
ce piece a’ stuff, Em, all dolled up.”
Mick’s eyes raked over Em’s body. She was wearing another of those silky, almost transparent blouses that bared her arms and was deceptively prim along the neckline. Her cherry-red trousers hugged her hips. And those shoes! Sky-high black platform sandals.
He touched the soft bow at the neckline of her blouse. “Is there a name for this?” he asked.
With a wicked grin she answered, “It’s called a pussy bow.”
Oh, you’re in trouble, b’y.
Em continued grinning. “You don’t look too bad yourself. You clean up nicely.”
They walked to the car, Mick’s hand resting on Em’s lower back. As he helped her in the car, her tattooed calf peeked from the bottom of her trouser leg. Mick prayed for self-control as he walked around the Charger.
Em watched Mick on the way to the restaurant. He had gotten his beard trimmed, and his hair cut, too. He wore it brushed back away from his handsome face tonight. His white dress shirt was open at the collar, and the dark coat hugged his broad shoulders and caressed his big arms.
“What? You’re making me kinda nervous, Em.” Mick cleared his throat and cut his eyes quickly over at Em in the passenger seat.
“Your tattoos are very strategically placed. In long sleeves and a collared shirt, you can’t see them at all.”
“You’re very observant.”
Em cocked her head at him. “Usually when someone has two densely inked sleeves of tattoos like you do, they have them on their neck and hands as well, and you don’t. I just find that interesting.”
“Well, I’m an engineer, and they tend to be on the conservative side. I wanted to make sure I could get a job.”
“Hm.” Em was thoughtful.
“What about you? You have that stocking. Not that I really got a chance to examine it the other morning,” he said, his ears turning pink. “What’s the story behind that?”
“I started with a ring around my ankle, a Claddagh. God, my mother freaked out. She was horrified. I loved it and couldn’t wait to get more, but you know, tattoos can be expensive, plus I didn’t want to listen to her bemoan how I was making a spectacle of myself, so I waited. Then my mother passed away, and I thought ‘Screw it,’ and so I added to it over time. The whole stocking took nine years, total. I don’t regret it a bit. The only thing I regret is letting Tripp bully me into not wearing skirts at the office, but that’s a moot point since I’m not working with him anymore.”
