by Gina Watson
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you if I need to keep using condoms.”
“Unless you’re ready to have a child with me, then yes.” She giggled. “But I know it’s less than desirable for you.”
“Nonsense, nothing could make you less desirable.”
He swiftly pulled the shirt from her body. On her knees between his legs he hugged her to him with his warm, large hands on her back, cradling her. His hands went lower and pressed lightly, causing her back to arc and her breasts to meet his lips. His lips kissed her softly, almost reverently, before he took her into his mouth and lightly sucked. His teeth delicately captured her, squeezing and gingerly tugging, and then his tongue soothed where his efforts had excited.
The alternating soft and hard sensations on her tits had left her tingling and she moaned her pleasure around his name.
He chuckled, and then cleared his throat. “You really seem to like that.”
She lowered her head, a tad embarrassed at her showy, loud expression. “I have sensitive nipples.”
“I’m glad because I love driving you wild.”
His bowed head and hair disheveled by her fingers had her short of breath, but when he sexily smirked and winked at her she groaned. Holy freaking Italian leather wearing males who smell like expensive cologne. He was impossible to resist. In fact, she wondered how anyone could ever refuse him anything. His athletic shorts had dropped quite low on his hips and exposed his extraordinary shape. Her fingers ran along vertical abdominal muscles. “I like these.”
He smiled and fingers found her wetness and stroked as she continued to stand on her knees. His hum of pleasure at how he’d found her reverberated around the bedroom.
“Do you want to take off your shorts?”
“I’d rather have you take them off for me.”
She bit her lip, trying to stifle the giddiness welling up inside her at the sight of all his god-like glory in the palm of her hands. Hers to operate and drive as if he were a machine and she held the controls. Before Everett she’d only ever been with Ryder’s dad. The love they shared created Ryder, which was the best thing she’d ever made. But this was indulgent. This was worship. This was pure gluttony, and she realized there had been a primal need inside of her that had never been filled.
She hooked her thumbs into his shorts and slid them from his hips. His erection sprang free, reaching toward his navel. The site of his raw manhood left Fiona gasping. Given his endowment she wondered how it was possible that he hadn’t impregnated every woman he’d been with. Condoms were definitely in order. First thing in the morning, she’d be making an appointment with her doctor to get on the pill.
How many women had he been with? Was she pleasing him? The movements and noises he made when they were together led her to think she was. He’d also said as much, but given his bedroom skills, he would have been with women that knew how to please a man much more than she did.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.” She felt the heat in her face and turned away from him. However, his finger under her chin led her back to his gaze.
“What? Tell me.”
“I was just thinking, wondering really … I have only been with one man and that was so long ago that I feel at a disadvantage here. I’m sure the women you’ve been with have been much more skilled at giving you pleasure.”
His palm cupped her cheek. “Do you know what pleasure is?”
“Something you enjoy.”
“I enjoy you, I think that much is obvious. But there is more to pleasure than enjoyment.”
“There is?”
“There is to me. Pleasure can be multifaceted. One can take pleasure in something for a moment and then it’s over. Sustained pleasure is something that has always eluded me.”
“Sustained pleasure?”
“Pleasure so great, so consuming, that once it ends your body and mind won’t let you stop seeking whatever it was that caused the specific mental state in the first place. If you consider that definition, pleasure can actually be quite agonizing.”
Sometimes he was so silver-tongued that she got lost in his lengthy philosophical speeches, so she just nodded.
“I’m telling you that the pleasure you’ve given me is the reason my mind and body won’t stop thinking about you. Every minute of the day my mind is filled with thoughts and visions of you. That’s never happened with anyone before. I’m constantly trying to figure out ways to seek more of you and the pleasure you impart. Expertly, I might add.”
Her heart beat so heavily that she felt dizzy. It thudded away in her chest and reminded her of the rabbits thumping their feet on the ground in a cartoon she’d seen as a child.
His palm rested flat over the fluttering muscle between her chest. “Are you okay?”
“Sometimes your monologues take my breath away.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
“In the best way.”
The tip of him glistened in the lamplight and she ran her finger through the wetness, and then placed her finger in her mouth to savor his flavor. His heated gaze on her held fire.
He grasped himself and roughly tugged. “Do you want to take me in your mouth?”
She nodded, still savoring her finger. He moved across the bed to lean his back against the headboard, gripping his cock. On her knees already she bent at the waist and ran her tongue tentatively across the tip. His musky flavor spoke to her with its salty tang and she swallowed him down, enjoying yet another way to know him.
She swiped again, but this time she placed a kiss on the tip with her lips, massaging a little as she did so. His moans spurred her on and she took the head into her mouth, sucking and moving her tongue beneath him.
“Fiona,”—he whispered, his voice laced with an erotic rasp—”You’re a beautiful seductress. Reminiscent of Aphrodite with your pleasure, love, and beauty.”
She continued to suck him, hopeful he would continue to liken her to the Olympian goddess.
The longer she enjoyed him, the more he spoke of her beauty and passion. After a lover’s while, his fingers laced in her hair and he tugged ever so gently.
She pulled up and looked to him for direction.
“I need to worship you now.”
He leaned forward, taking her mouth in a passionate kiss. Surely he could taste himself on her tongue, but the moans he made indicated he didn’t seem to mind.
He handled her like a glass doll as he guided her down to the bed, cradling her head while he propped a pillow beneath it. He kissed her nose and she recalled that he seemed to do that a lot.
“Your nose is a little button.”
He kissed her jaw, nuzzled her neck, and repeated his earlier treatment of her breasts that had her body physically begging and arching for more. His journey led him to her navel where his tongue swirled and his open lips on her skin lightly sucked. From there he sucked at the delicate fold of skin where thigh meets lower torso. His lips traveled just a little lower and feathered against her channel. This was something she’d never experienced before. It was extremely intimate and she hoped the Clinique exfoliating body scrub she used lived up to the hype. When his lips closed around her clitoris all thoughts about her feminine presentation ceased as she was catapulted from the present into an infinite vacuum of pleasure.
“Oh, God … please … please don’t stop.” She begged him for several minutes as his expert oral skills brought her closer to the apex with each pass of his tongue and nip of his lips. When he groaned against her most tender flesh she let go and gave herself to him.
For several moments she lay in the bed, chest heaving, with her arm over her brow. Her thoughts began to come to her in a scattered heap—so that was oral sex. He seemed to enjoy giving as much as she enjoyed receiving. Was she so loud that she could have awakened Ryder across the hall? Was Everett still lapping at her? Yes … yes he was. Now that she was coming down from her climax she was a tad embarras
sed and so she began to pull her knees together only to have him push them apart.
“Nuh-uh,” he mumbled as his tongue entered her yet again.
It felt too good to be mortified and she longed to know what he found so fascinating that he had basically set up camp between her legs, feasting on her like a death row inmate feasts on his last supper.
“What are you doing?” She whispered.
“Claiming my prize.” One more kiss and then he pulled himself away. “You taste like finely-aged scotch.”
When his soft, thick lips descended on hers she tasted herself on his tongue—tart and spicy. Or maybe that was just him—either way it was a highly erotic act to taste oneself from the tongue of a lover and she found herself moaning as she sucked his tongue.
“Do you like how you taste?”
“Yes,” she replied breathily.
“Was that your first oral experience, Ms. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“Giving and receiving?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm, you did quite well, quite well indeed. I’ll remember that as the single most precious gift of my meager existence. It will be what I shut my eyes to for the last time as I prepare to kiss the inevitable gates of death.”
She giggled at such an esoteric declaration. With his constantly ready words and picturesque metaphors he’d make a great politician.
He slid her beneath him, his weight mostly supported by his left side. Large and strong, his body was so much bigger than her own she felt sheltered in his shade, cocooned in his muscle, skin, and warmth.
They were face to face, eye to eye. “I’m really glad we were able to meet, and that you took a chance on me—twice.” He kissed her nose yet again and she smiled.
“I’m glad too.”
“I want to worship you with my body.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going to use my body to bring you great pleasure.”
His confidence brought her desire to the surface of her skin so that her entire body was primed to receive him. When he entered her the bubbles of desire dissolved into a haze of realized passion.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm?”
“I think you stopped breathing.”
Breathing had ceased, but at his coaching she gasped and inhaled much needed air.
When she began to cry she gripped his arms hard—her fingers digging in. His eyes on her became laced with worry.
“Fiona?” He whispered, and then slowed, stopping altogether to pull her close.
She cried and spoke through her tears. “I’m sorry I’m ruining the moment.”
“You’re not ruining the moment, but I need you to tell me what’s on your mind.”
She saw no other option but to come out and just say it. “I don’t want you to go back to Boston. I want you here, with Ryder and me so that we can see you every day.
“Oh baby, I want that too.”
She looked into his kind eyes, smoking with gray rings. “You do?”
“I do.”
“What are we going to do?”
He was still inside of her when he used his strong hands at her back to pull her into his chest. He turned them so that she was straddling over him and clasped their hands together. “I think we should finish making love. Then we’ll need lists.”
“Lists?”
He nodded his confirmation, “Lists.”
She rode him with the help of his hands on her hips, dictating where he wanted her most. When they were both close, his arms encircled her waist, and then he pistoned fiercely into her.
It felt glorious and her body sizzled with the exertion of their efforts. “Everett, I love you.”
“Fiona.”
“Don’t stop.” At her command his hold on her tightened and his hips increased their rhythm. They came together, her muscles squeezing him tightly, heightening his pleasure.
She collapsed on top of his sweat-slicked chest and felt his heartbeat against her cheek. Hers was fluttering as well. Neither of them was able to speak, but their closeness spoke volumes. His fingers began to explore the muscles of her back, massaging on either side of her shoulders, and she sighed.
“Fiona, I know I’m falling in love with you and Ryder.”
She slid her chin up higher on his chest to look him in the eye, a smile prevalent on her face. “How will lists help us?”
“How about we shower, and then I’ll show you.”
She nodded. “Did I mention that I’m glad you’re going on the pill? I can think of nothing more pleasurable than coming inside of you.”
She felt her face heat and she cast her eyes down to the bed.
He lifted her chin and their lips met in a kiss so sweet it rivaled the whoopie pies her grandmother made when she was a child.
***
After checking to ensure that Ryder remained asleep through their amorous activities, Everett sat at Fiona’s kitchen table nursing a beer while she sipped wine. She wore a beautiful deep blue silk Asian-inspired gown and robe that made it hard for him to concentrate on the list.
“So we make a list of all our options and ideas we’d like to pursue.”
“Okay.” She sipped her wine, licking her lips and offering a moan as she appreciated the taste. Watching her enjoy wine was making him hard again. He shook his head and redoubled his efforts to focus on the list.
“You have a course that you teach. What is that schedule like?”
“It’s offered in the spring only. I teach two sections back to back on Mondays and Wednesdays. Or at least I have for the past two years. Hopefully the university will offer it to me again this year.”
Everett wrote the details on the pad. “I can’t imagine they wouldn’t. I’ve heard great things from Maura about your course. I’d like to sit in on it one day.”
“You would?”
“Yeah, it sounds interesting.” She smiled with a twinkle in her eye. “What?”
“I just can’t see you in an art class.”
“It bothers me when you say things like that.”
“I’m sorry.” She rested her hand atop his on the table and gently caressed.
“You said I was textbook, and now you’re implying I have no taste for art.”
“Everett, I shouldn’t have made the textbook comment. You’re anything but a textbook guy. You’re kind, spontaneous, and expressive. I didn’t mean your soul was textbook, just your appearance.”
“Thank you, I guess?”
“And about the course—I was just picturing you in a sea of hipsters with your Hugo Boss suits and the image made me smile. I think it would be wonderful for you to attend my class, so stop pouting.”
“I already told you, I don’t pout, and the suits are Armani.”
“You do pout, but I’ll give you the thing about the suits.”
“Thank you.” He smiled sarcastically.
“Now I’ve got Boston. I think it’s going to be a few months before the firm entrusts me with another Baton Rouge gig. However, I can fly home on Fridays and leave late on Sundays. That would give us the weekends. And I can leave on Thursdays probably as often as every other week. I don’t think it would do for you to fly while Ryder’s in school, but during the holidays and summer we can revisit the list and see what works. What do you think?”
“So you’re outlining the parameters of our relationship?”
“I’m trying to figure out how often we can all be together. I’m willing to give it a shot if you are—and I really hope you are.”
“I am. I just wish we weren’t separated by a plane ride.”
Everett exhaled loud and long. “I know.”
“What else can we do?”
“Come here.” His fingers demanded her skin. She crawled onto his lap and he kissed her lips. “How about we take it week by week? Do you think that would work for Ryder?”
“Yeah, I think it could work. Maybe I could get a calendar and we could write our toget
her days on it.”
He smiled, “Our together days. That sounds nice.”
“Not as nice as it would sound to have you here forever.”
“I think when we are together, we’ll cherish our time because we know it’s going to end.”
“I thought that too.”
His nose nuzzled her cheek. “I’m committed to you and Ryder. Eventually an answer will come.”
“You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been.” She spoke against his lips before she kissed him.
“You’ve done that for me as well.”
Chapter 8
Sunday morning Everett awoke before Fiona. He pulled on a T-shirt and shorts and walked into the kitchen intent on pouring a glass of orange juice. As he sipped the thirst-quenching fluid he heard the pitter-patter of young feet behind him. He turned to see Ryder. “Hey, buddy.”
“It’s Sunday,” he huffed.
They’d oriented him with a calendar. He’d taken to marking the days off with a magic marker. Everett’s relationship with Fiona was going to be difficult for Ryder.
“It is Sunday, but I’ll only be gone for three days.” He tousled Ryder’s thick hair.
“But you’re not coming back until Thursday night.”
“We’ll just have to talk your mom into letting you stay awake to greet me when I get here late Thursday. That way there are only three days that we’re not all together.”
He smiled. “Three days doesn’t sound like a long time.”
“It’s not. Especially since you’ll be in school all day.” Everett poured a juice for Ryder. “I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“I want you to make sure you and your mom are near the phone at eight o’clock every night.”
“Okay. You gonna call us?”
“I am. Eight o’clock. You think you can manage that?”
“I’ll make it happen.” He nodded sharply.
“Now what do you say we make your mom breakfast in bed?” Everett opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs, cream, and butter.
“What will we make?”
“I’m pretty good at making French toast.”
“Really?”
“Yep. You fetch the bread and I’ll grab a pan.”
