“Can’t, feels too good,” she tells me.
I place each of my hands on the sides of her hipbones and hold them down to the bed. I play with her folds, nipping them and licking them. I take a finger and insert it inside of her. She moans and tries to take advantage of one of my hands leaving her hips, arching her back and writhing. So, to keep her still, I take my arm and apply pressure across her abdomen, holding her down. I pump my finger back and forth until I see it glistening with her juices before I dive back in and attack her clit. She grabs ahold of my head and begins chanting.
“Don’t stop, Marcus. Please, don’t stop.”
Stop! Hell no, she’s going to come all over my tongue before I’m even going to consider impaling myself inside of her. I add another finger and stretch her, scissoring my fingers. She’s always been so damn tight, she’s the perfect fit for me. Nothing has ever felt as good as being buried deep inside of my girl.
“Fuck! I’m gonna come!” she screams out. I place my fingers on the magic button inside of her and massage her, I feel her tightening around my digits and keep going at her clit. I circle, suck and taste every inch of it. Once her release hits, and she screams out my name following her release, I climb up her body. I reach over to the nightstand drawer and grab a condom, counting down until the day comes that I no longer have to use them. I pull a square from the roll, before I have a chance to open it, Emory grabs it from me and rips it apart with her teeth. Sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She pulls the rubber out of the package and rolls it down my length, I can’t help but watch as her hands touch me. Mesmerized by the look on her face as she swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, I nearly blow my load. I think of the game I watched last night on the television, I think about statistics, plays…anything, but what her hands are doing to me. Once she’s finished I slide back down her body and lay over top of her. I lean down and kiss her, glad that she’s never shied away from kissing me after I’ve gone down on her. It turns me on, I never had a lover who didn’t fear their taste on my lips. But Emory? God, she devours my lips, as if she can’t get enough of our combined taste. As we kiss, I take my hand and line myself up, then I slowly inch my way inside of her, wanting to savor the feeling for as long as I can. My little hell-cat will demand it faster and harder, this is the only time I get away with a slow, gentle glide.
“Marcus, please,” she says after my third slow pass in. Knowing what it is she wants, I slam inside of her to the root. She arches her back in pleasure.
“You want my cock inside of you? All of it, how do you want it, baby?”
“I want you to punish my pussy, Marcus.” Damn, that woman talks dirty to me and I lose all control. I slam inside of her over and over again. I switch things up, sometimes I go straight in, others I swivel my hips hitting her g-spot just right. I’m teasing her in my own way, but still giving her what she desires most.
“Fuck yeah, Em. Grip my dick with that tight pussy of yours,” I say, panting. I pull out causing her to become frustrated with me.
“No, Marcus, I was almost there.”
“I know, beautiful, turn over, ass in the air and hold on to the bedframe,” I tell her. She loves it when I give her demands and take control in bed. She does as I say, I grab a pillow and place it under her hips. I line myself back up and slam home. I grab her hips and pull them up where her knees are barely touching the mattress. “Mine, Emory. You’re all mine,” I growl out between thrust.
“Yours, forever, Marcus,” she stammers out breathlessly.
Her declaration causes me to pick up my rhythm. I slam in and out of her, grabbing her long hair and wrapping it around my fist I pull her body back into mine, I scoot us forward, she now is on her knees, arms still stretched out as she holds onto the frame. I pull her head around and slam my lips onto hers. She aggressively accepts the kiss and we begin dueling with our tongues. I steadily slam inside of her, only pulling back when I feel my release trying to take hold. I push her back down on all fours, and look down at my dick, seeing our combined pleasure.
“Come, baby, I need you to come now!” I growl out to her. I see her take her arm and it disappears beneath her. “That’s it, baby, play with that pretty clit of yours.” “Marcus!” she screams out and comes hard, gripping me tightly, I pump inside of her a few more times before I join her.
“Fuck, Emory!” I shout out my release. I land on top of her to gather my wits. She falls flat on her stomach breathing heavily, I roll off her and pull her back to my front. I swear, I’ll never get tired of being with her. She is everything important to me in this world. I don’t just want her, I need her, she is the key to my happiness.
Emory
I wake up the next morning and stretch, I smile because I’m deliciously sore in all the right places. I reach my hand out and notice the bed is empty, knowing it was his morning to be at the station for his rotation, it doesn’t surprise me. He usually wakes me up to tell me goodbye and kisses me. I was sleeping so deeply, that it wouldn’t surprise me if he attempted to wake me up, but I didn’t budge. My man wore me out last night, in more ways than one. As I look around, I notice a note lying on my nightstand. I pick it up and read it, smiling knowing it was from him.
Good Morning, or should I say afternoon?
You were sleeping so deeply that when I went to give you a kiss you batted me away. Have I mentioned how adorable you are when you’re asleep? Anyways, I hated not being able to say goodbye to you this morning, but one bat of your hand was more than an indication that I wasn’t getting you up. I finally managed to get a kiss on your forehead before I had to leave. See you in forty-eight hours. Love you, call if you need anything.
Always yours,
Marcus
I pick up my phone to send him a text message.
Me: Sorry if I was the devil to wake this morning. Someone wore me plum out.
Marcus: Oh yeah, looks like I need to have a conversation with this someone…who is it, baby? You can tell me.
I laugh at his rebuttal and respond.
Me: Just some guy I know and love who ravished me really good. I’m deliciously sore this morning and I will be remembering him the rest of the day.
Marcus: Oh yeah, huh, guess I will definitely be having a conversation with this fella, can’t have him stealing my girl.
Me: love you, Marcus. Have a great shift.
Marcus: love you, too and am excited to know you’ll have me on your mind while I’m working.
Me: always <3
I put my phone away and run to grab a shower. Can’t go to work smelling like sweat and sex, I have no clue how I went to sleep like this.
It’s my day to open, so I’m the only one here right now. After I get everything ready for business for the day, I pick up my phone and call the hospital to check on Shyann. She’s been weighing heavily on my mind and in my heart.
“Pediatric ICU,” I hear answered. Now I’m smiling because I recognize that voice.
“Olivia, it’s Emory. How is our girl this morning?”
“She’s doing really well, she’s graduating to the peds floor today.”
“She gets to join the general population today, huh?” I ask, smiling bigger, happy to hear she’s made enough progress that she’ll be out of the ICU area and on the general pediatric wing.
“She sure is.” I can hear the joy in her voice.
“When you get a room number, do you think you could call me with it?”
“I sure will, and your visitor’s permission will be going along for the ride with her. You can still visit her anytime you wish.”
“That’s great news, thanks, Olivia.”
“Your welcome, Emory.” We hang up the phone and I text Marcus to let him know. He doesn’t respond, so I know he’s busy.
Chapter 6
Marcus
Between your heart and mine…
It’s been two weeks since Shyann has been moved to the general peds floor. There’s been no luck finding any living relatives. Emor
y and I talked with a social worker and decided to apply to be her foster parents. The only thing that could possibly deter us is Emory’s health. Which made her sad, so I spent the entire evening making love to her to help get her mind off of it. Her doctor faxed a letter over indicating that she will be a good candidate and is on the road to remission. If nothing else, we can be a temporary placement until hopefully someone comes forward claiming her.
I just received the phone call saying that we’ve been granted temporary guardianship over Shyann. She will be released this evening into our care. I pick up the phone and call Emory to tell her the good news.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, beautiful. How much longer do you think you’ll be?”
“I don’t know, I only had one client on the books this morning and she’s already left. We haven’t had any walk-ins yet, why, what’s up?”
“I just got off the phone with Shyann’s case worker, Miss Tyson, we’re picking her up in a few hours and bringing her home with us.” I have to move the phone from my ear when she squeals out in delight.
“She’s ours?”
“She’s ours, baby,” I tell her.
“Marcus! We have to go shopping, now!” I laugh at her and tell her I’ll be there within the hour to pick her up. This is a good day!
This is one fucked-up day! Not only did I pick Em up, I picked up Glory and Ariel as well, both stating they needed to help us ‘get the right things’ since they know more about babies than we do. It seemed logical at first, but now I’m ready to take them back. We’ve got deliveries coming this evening that consist of a crib, changing table, rocking chair, dresser and some wall art that won’t fit in my truck. How does a baby require so much? She needs a bed, clothes and necessities, that should be it, right?
Next stop is a baby boutique, a freaking boutique that caters to babies…I mean what the actual fuck? My arms are loaded down with dresses, onesies, pants, tops and nightclothes. We just spent over five-hundred dollars on damn baby clothes…clothes she’ll most likely outgrow in a matter of weeks. What’s wrong with department store clothing? I don’t ever think I’ll understand these women and their illogical thinking.
Finally as I’m relaxing, thinking the day is actually over, I’m directed to a baby store that sells wipes, diapers and cream by the bundle. There’s a hundred to a hundred and fifty diapers in what looks like clear trash bags. There are also stuffed animal and age appropriate toys, I throw my hands up and walk out the door and sit in the truck and let the women do their thing. I pull out my phone and play a game, trying to pass the time. What feels like forever later, but is only about thirty minutes, I hear the truck door open. I get out and help put the purchases in the back of the truck bed. Once everyone is settled in, I drive back towards the shop to drop everyone…or, more specifically, Glory and Ariel, back off. We need to take these things by the house and drop them off. Glory is going to meet us back at the house and wait for the furniture to be delivered and put everything away. When we meet back up at the house, I bring in the bags while the girls go into the spare room and talk about how to set it up. I roll my eyes at the debate of whether or not the glider should go next to the window or in front of it.
“Let’s go get our girl, Em,” I say, ending the great debate. These women can get vicious when it comes to these minor details. I don’t know how they ever shared a house growing up. I don’t even want to know how many cat-fights the girls got into, I bet they beat each other good. With this mental picture in my head I smile, my Emory is a scrapper and I bet she gave as good as she got.
We finally make it to the hospital forty-five minutes later, and excitement is in the air. Shyann’s case worker is in her room already and smiles hesitantly at us.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I immediately ask.
“Why don’t you two have a seat.” She says indicating us to sit in the chairs in the room. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. I need to ask you, Marcus, did you serve with a Corporal Steven Sheridan?” Sheridan…Sheridan, then my eyes go wide…Sherry! We gave him a hard time and gifted him with that silly girl’s nickname.
“I did,” I tell her.
“I hate to inform you, but Corporal Sheridan is Shyann’s biological father. He was killed in a road side bombing as you’re well aware,” she says with her voice laced in grief having to tell me this.
“Oh God, Sherry,” I say, hanging my head in sorrow. He was a good man, I served with him for three years in the same unit. Why wasn’t I informed of his death?
“What does this mean for Shyann?” Emory asks.
“Well, that is what I wanted to speak with you about. Do you remember signing papers that would make you Shyann’s legal guardian should anything happen to him or his wife?” Thinking back, I do remember signing something the day Shyann was born. We were overseas, and he had to find out about the birth of his daughter through Skype later that night. Honestly, it just escaped my mind. I never thought in a million years something would happen to both of them.
“Fuck! I never thought those papers would lead to anything like this.” I look over at Emory and explain. “Sheridan was an only child whose family died in a housefire, it’s what caused him to take up firefighting. His wife, Carolina, was a foster care case. She never knew her family or anything about them. Carolina was never adopted and grew up in the system. Neither of them wanted that for Shyann should anything happen to them. I never believed at the time that this is the way it would play out. I was just trying to be a friend and give them peace of mind.”
“You were good friends then?” Miss Tyson asks me.
“He was one of my best while serving, we lost touch when I came home. All this time I thought he was home living life with his family, I always pictured him happy and healthy raising his child and loving his wife. She was everything to him.”
“Then we’ll honor them both by raising their daughter, Marcus.” Emory says with tears in her eyes.
“This is a forever commitment, Emory. Are you up for that?”
“I’ve never backed down from anything before, Marcus. We’ve got this,” she repeats the words back to me that I’ve spoken to her on many different occasions.
“We’ve got this,” I repeat back to her. I’m thankful that we attended Carolina’s small service after her death. I’m happy to know we grieved her on her husband’s, my friend’s, behalf. I didn’t even put two and two together since we didn’t follow the procession to the gravesite. Emory wasn’t feeling well that day, so after the service at the local church, we headed home. Now, for the first time since I signed those damn papers, I’m glad that I did. Shyann will never have to fear being left alone or worry about if someone out there loves her. Emory and I will love her enough that she never feels like something is missing. I will tell her stories about her father and tell her Every. Single. Day, how much that man loved, and worshipped, both her, and her mother.
Emory
I want to cry for Marcus’ loss, I know it has to be eating at him that he didn’t know or keep in contact with his friend. It’s just like high school, you have your friends while you’re there, but then you go to college and lose contact with those you thought you’d be friends with forever. Forever…the meaning should be meant for what it is, but it’s only just that, a word everyone uses as a filler when they think they know the true meaning of it. I told Marcus we’re forever, but what I mean is that no matter what happens between us, he will hold my heart in his hands until my last day. I firmly believe I will grow old and gray with this man, but life is a finicky bitch, you never know what type of curve ball it will throw you from one day to the next. Nothing is set in stone, but you keep going and put one foot in front of the other.
“Well,” Miss Tyson says, “everything is in order whenever you two are ready to take Shyann home, I’m sorry for being the bearer of such bad news.”
“Thank you, it’s just a lot of information to process,” Marcus says to her.
“We appreci
ate everything you’ve done to help us out here, Miss Tyson,” I say standing up to shake her hand.
“You’re most welcome,” she says returning the gesture. “Good luck to you,” she says gathering her things. “I’ll stop by for a home visit sometime next week.”
“Sounds good, thank you…again.” She nods her head and walks out the door.
I look over at Shyann who is still fast asleep and has this cute little snore when she breathes in. Marcus walks Miss Tyson out the door, while he is away, I look down at Shyann and make her a silent promise, “We’ll always take care of you,” and then to her parents I say, “we’ll always tell her about you, and I promise you that we’ll love her as our own.” When Marcus comes back into the room, I notice he has a stack of papers in his hands.
“What’s that?” I ask him.
“A copy of the papers I signed overseas. The ones where I agreed to take on Shyann if anything was to happen to either of them. I can’t believe this is Sheridan’s baby,” Marcus says.
“You’ll have to tell us stories about him. Did you know her mother as well?”
“No, other than via Skype calls. She had a bubbly personality though, I remember that. This is so fucked up, I can’t believe they’re both gone.”
“Their bodies may be gone, but they aren’t. Their hearts and souls live within her. It makes me happy that they trusted you enough with her to have you sign those papers, otherwise, this transition may have been harder than what it will end up being. We need to get with a lawyer, Marcus. Make sure everything is as it should be.” I want to make sure we have our ‘T’s’ crossed and ‘I’s’ dotted.
Clean Slate: Diva's Ink Page 5
