She shook her head. “It wasn’t too bad, but still made me anxious.”
“What were you thinking about?” I knew the answer to this question, but I always asked because it helped her get her thoughts out of her head; if kept inside they festered. If I could get her to talk about it, she had an easier time letting it go. She shrugged her shoulders.
“The same thoughts I always have—wishing I had handled the situation better, wishing I hadn’t killed him. I think about everything, every move, trying to figure out a way where in the end he wasn’t dead and I hadn’t taken his life.”
This was the hardest part for me, hearing her guilt for killing Kyle. It had been one hundred percent self-defense. If she hadn’t killed him, he surely would have killed her. Yet, she still felt the ache of guilt for taking his life, wishing things could have ended without his death.
“You did nothing wrong, Babe.” I whispered into her ear, hoping that this time she not only listened to me, but that she heard me. “You were protecting yourself. He made all the decisions that led to that situation. He kidnapped you, drugged you, and you were only trying to get away alive.” She nodded in recognition, but I felt her body tense. I reached up and started rubbing her shoulders. “Hey,” I whispered even softer. “I’m sorry, Ella. I don’t want to make you upset.” Her hands fell to my thighs, the water rippling with our movement.
“I know, Porter. There’s a very big part of my brain that knows I had no choice but to pull the trigger. But I just can’t get over the fact that I ended a life. I took his life. Who am I to take that from anyone? Sometimes I feel like that doesn’t make me any better than him.”
It was my turn to tense at her words. I never heard this from her before. My hands stilled on her shoulders, my heart thudded in my chest.
“You are nothing like him, Ella. He was a coward. A thief. A low-life asshole who took advantage of you, tried to have you killed, and then lost when he went up against you.” I wrapped my arms around her body, trying to keep her as close to me as possible. “You are nothing like him.” I didn’t know how else to say it, what other words I could use to convince her. I felt her start to shutter, her breathing sped up, and I knew she was crying. I released her and gripped her hips to turn her to face me, not caring about the water spilling over the sides of the tub.
Her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms wound around my neck. She buried her face in my chest and I listened to her cry, gently rubbing my hands up her back, bringing the warm water with them, aiming to soothe her, trying anything I could think of to comfort her.
“I never wanted to kill him,” she said into my chest. “I tried to run away first. I tried to get away.”
“Shhh. I know, Babe. I know.” She cried for what seemed like hours and if I didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to simply be strong for her, I would have cried along with her. I hated him even more in death for making her feel this way, for causing the guilt she was carrying around unnecessarily. Finally, she quieted, breathing evenly against my skin. The water was colder so I used my foot to push up the lever, adding more hot water.
Ella pulled her face away from me, looking me in the eyes. “How many of my breakdowns are you going to hold me through?” She asked, dejectedly.
“All of them,” I said. Her eyes misted up again at my words and she pressed her lips into mine. The kiss tasted of salty tears, soapy water, and Ella; nothing tasted sweeter than her. Her legs were already wrapped around me, but I felt her press closer, grinding into me. “Ella, you can’t do that right now,” I growled. She moved to kiss down my neck.
“Please, Porter,” she whispered against the damp skin of my shoulder, slowly pressing her center right into me. I was already straining and hard. I never wanted to deny her, but I didn’t want to mess with her head either. She was in a vulnerable place and I didn’t want to distract her from dealing with her feelings. “I just want to feel something else besides this.”
“Besides what?” I wiped away the hair that came loose from her bun, the fallen strands hiding her eyes from me. “What are you feeling?”
She paused, her breaths coming hard and fast, fighting tears again. “It was either going to be him or me. And somehow I lived. I lived, Porter. Why? How can I ever make myself worthy of being saved in that way? How can I ever make up for taking his life and saving my own?”
I pressed my palms against either side of her face and forced her to look at me.
“Listen to me, Ella. You lived because you fought to live. You lived because you deserved to live. He had his death coming to him, Ella. If he had somehow made it through that night alive, I would have killed him myself. You’re supposed to be here, with me. We’re bigger than all of this. You and me.”
“Show me,” she whispered.
I was done holding back, done treating her as though she might break. I gripped her around the waist and held onto her tightly as I stood up, water cascading off our bodies, the air chilling my skin. I grabbed a towel hanging from the door as I walked into the bedroom. I put the towel down on the bed and laid her over it. She leaned up on her elbows, looking at me expectantly. Using both hands I grabbed the towel and started drying off her belly. I hoped to God she was pregnant. I wanted her full of me in every way. I wanted her round and soft and beautifully carrying a piece of me.
I rubbed the towel along her stomach, down her thighs, up and over her mound. She gasped at the contact and I knew she was wired and receptive—electric. I moved the towel up and dried both of her breasts and watched as her back arched farther off the bed. I moved to my knees, still palming her breasts through the towel, and kissed my way up one of her legs, from knee to hip. I splayed wet and open-mouth kisses right over her heat, slowly licking up her center, just trying to taste her.
My hands abandoned her breasts and came to hold her thighs open, making it easier for me to get to all of her. I heard her whimper and it made my blood pump faster, knowing I was succeeding in helping her feel something other than lost. I was harder than ever, blood pumping, pulsing through me.
Fueled with the sounds of her arousal and the throbbing in my cock, I quickly moved up over her. She anticipated me and moved backwards on the bed, crawling towards the headboard, her eyes blazing at me, challenging me to show her. I ripped the towel out from under her as she moved and threw it to the floor. My bare hands grazed over her breasts, sliding all the way up her arms and stopping at her wrists. I grabbed them both and pinned them to the bed above her head. Our faces now even, I breathed hard looking into her eyes.
“You’re mine. I need you here, with me, understand?” She nodded and I dipped down, kissing her roughly. She responded with fire, meeting me lick for lick. Her legs came to wrap around my waist and I felt her heat running along me. That was one thing I loved about Ella; when it came to sex, to us connecting and bringing each other and ourselves gratification, she’d always been shameless. She took what she needed unabashedly and without reservation, and gave me everything I could ever hope for. Our bodies were made for each other and it was never difficult to lose myself in her.
“I need you. Now, Porter.” She whispered softly, looking straight into my eyes, asking me to help her, to give her what she needed. Without breaking our gaze, I slowly pushed into her and watched as her eyelids fluttered, mouth opened, and hips moved into me. I kept one hand on her wrists as the other moved down to grab her ass and brought her even closer, to get even deeper. I slowly moved in and out of her, each thrust pushing me just a little bit closer to her. Our bodies were intertwined, one seeping into the other, no beginning and no ending—just us.
My mouth found her breast and I lived for the gasps she made as I pulled on her nipple with my teeth, gently urging her towards her peak. Her hands wiggled and I freed her, bringing my other hand to the small of her back. Her hands gripped my shoulder blades and I felt her heels dig into my ass, bringing her core up to me, enveloping every inch of my shaft. She ground her hips into me, circling me, finding her rhythm. I
pushed into her farther, knowing it was pressure and contact she was looking for.
I knew she was close when she held her breath and bit her lip, eyes closed, head back. I loved to watch her fall apart. I gripped her firmly, pulled her into me as hard as I could, matched her rhythm, using my hands to grind her into me. Her eyes shot open wide, looking at me with surprise.
“Don’t stop,” she cried. I didn’t. I worked her until I felt her walls pulse around me, until I heard her cry out my name, until I felt her relax and fall limp back onto the bed. My mouth found her neck, kissing her slowly in the spot I knew she liked, until I knew she had come down from her orgasm.
“How do you do that?” She asked breathlessly as I resumed pumping in and out of her slowly.
“Do what?” I asked, smiling against the skin of her neck.
“Read me like that? Know exactly what I want? What I need?”
“Ah, that’s simple, Ella,” I said, taking one long and thorough stroke into her, her mouth opening at the feeling. “I need and want the exact same thing. I’m not reading you. I am you. And you’re me.” She turned her head and her lips found mine. Her hands came to the sides of my face and I wrapped my arms around her tightly.
“I love you,” she whispered against my lips.
“And I love you.” Her hands moved through my hair, gripping it gently.
“Now, take me however you want me.” My pulse thundered through my veins at her words. I didn’t think it were possible, but I grew harder.
“Fuck,” I growled into her mouth. She surrendered to me, gave herself over to me, and I loved her even more for it. “Flip over, Babe.” She smiled at me as I pulled out of her and rolled onto her stomach. She knew what I wanted and brought herself up on her knees, pushing her perfectly round ass into the air for me. My hands smoothed over her cheeks and then continued up her back. I could stare at her forever, but she had other ideas. She spread her knees wider and then bent down so her forearms rested on the mattress, giving me a gorgeous view of all of her.
I slid slowly into her wet heat, groaning at the feeling. “You feel fantastic, Babe. So hot. So soft.” She made her whimpering noise as she met me with a quick thrust backwards onto my cock, making my heart rate spike again. I couldn’t be slow anymore, couldn’t be gentle. I pumped in and pulled back, each time increasing the force. I was rewarded by hearing her groaning and moaning each time I hit that spot inside of her.
“More,” she cried out. That was all I needed to lose myself in her. One of my hands found her shoulder, pulling her back onto me while the other sought out her clit, helping her feel as good as I did. My head rested on her back as I felt her come again, the tightening around me signaling she’d found her release. “I want you to come inside of me,” she said breathily, spurring me on, bringing me closer. I continued to pump into her, holding off as long as I could, relishing in the feeling of her tight, wet heat enveloping me. Eventually it was too much and I found my release, groaning as I came, needing to brace myself with a hand on the mattress as my orgasm rocketed through me.
After a moment she fell forward, relaxing on the bed, and I shivered as my cock pulled out of her. I flopped onto the bed next to her, trying to reign in my breathing, waiting for my brain to turn back on. Eventually she turned over to look at me, a smile shimmering over her face, lighting up the dim room.
“We’re good at making babies,” she said coyly. I had to smile at her, still a little out of breath. Usually, under previous circumstances, she would have gotten out of bed and gone to clean up, but lately she’d been staying in bed after we made love, obviously the protocol altered by trying to get pregnant. I couldn’t lie; the thought of her spending the whole night with my cum inside of her was a huge turn on. There’ve been a few times when we had a quickie in the morning and she left the house for the day with me inside of her, smelling of me, and my reaction was primitive. Positively primal. She was mine and I marked her to prove it. I laughed at myself. I knew I was having caveman thoughts, liking the idea of my seed inside of her, but I would challenge any man in love to argue with me. Having her full of me was an intensely gratifying feeling.
“I’ll add it to my resume. Hopefully it works, but I love perfecting our technique.” I made it out of bed, bringing her a glass of water.
“Thank you,” she said before taking a sip. I put the water on her nightstand and then flipped off the lights and climbed into bed, bringing her close to me, twining our fingers together.
“Do you want a boy or a girl first?” She whispered. I rubbed my thumb along the palm of her hand. We had this discussion before, but I loved talking about our future child with her, so I answered.
“I don’t care as long as it’s healthy, but I think deep down I’d like a boy.” Ella brought my hand to her mouth and kissed it softly right over my knuckles.
“Your father would be very proud of you, Porter.” Of course she’d hear what I hadn’t said. I longed for a son in a way that defied logic to me. I would love a daughter. I would spoil her and protect her and provide for her, but my soul needed a son. I wanted to feel that connection a father had with his boy.
“He would have loved you,” I whispered into her hair.
“I know,” she said sleepily, making me smile.
“I love you,” I said against her ear.
“Mmm. I love you too.”
It has been five weeks since my last period. That morning, after Porter left, I readied myself for work and was surprised to find myself leaning over the toilet when brushing my teeth triggered some weird gag reflex. I heaved my breakfast into the toilet and then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, smiling as I pressed my other hand against my belly. I had never been so excited to throw up in my life.
Porter and I both knew that I was late—he watched the calendar even more carefully than I did. But neither of us had mentioned it. I assumed his reasoning was the same as mine; we didn’t want to jinx it. But the barfing clenched it for me. Morning sickness? Yes. I had to be pregnant. I could feel the straining in my cheeks from the biggest smile I’d ever worn, only to be out done, I imagined, by the smile I would wear watching Porter come to the realization he was going to be a father.
I got up and nearly ran to my phone, dialing Megan’s number as quickly as I could.
“Hey, Fella,” she said cheerily as she answered her phone.
“Megs, do you have any free time today? Can you come to Salem?”
“I think so. I’ve got all three girls in Poppy today so getting away shouldn’t be a big deal. What do you need?”
“It’s not work related. I need a sister favor today.”
“Oh! Well then I can definitely fit you in. What’s up?” Her voice was still calm, but she sounded concerned.
“I just need you to come to Dahlia, but I need you to bring me something.”
“Ok . . . you’re being cryptic.”
“Can you bring a pregnancy test with you?”
“Are you serious?”
“Serious as a pregnancy test.”
“Holy shit, Ella.”
“Holy shit is right. Will you come see me? I could use a little sisterly support.”
“Um, yeah. Just let me call Brittany and let her know I won’t be in this morning. Oh my God, Ella. You think you’re pregnant?” She sounded wistful and far away, like she was lost in her own mind. I felt the stinging and prickling of tears coming on but I didn’t want to cry so I stood up and moved into the bathroom, turning on the shower.
“Yeah, I think I am,” was all I could manage without losing my composure.
“Ok, I’ll be at Dahlia in about two hours, with a pregnancy test. No big deal. I’ll just walk in with a brown paper sack that will change your life forever. No pressure.”
I had to laugh at her dramatics. “Megan, it will all be ok. Just buy a test and meet me there. You won’t change the outcome of the test by worrying about it.”
I heard her exhale loudly. “Ok. See you there.” She hung u
p and I got in the shower. My mind was so frazzled I couldn’t remember if I washed my hair or not so I ended up doing it again, just to be sure. I found myself smiling as I drove to the store, my mind clouded with images of Porter pushing a stroller, holding a newborn baby, tossing a baseball to a little blonde boy. I kept reminding myself that I still had to take the test and even then, still had months of waiting to do beyond that.
The waiting wasn’t any better at the store either. I found myself folding shirts, then refolding them, walking to the window to look for Megan, then finding something else to fold. I finally couldn’t take my own inability to sit still and decided to walk down the street to the coffee shop I went to every once in a while.
“Hi, what can I get started for you?” Asked the pretty brunette girl behind the counter. She smiled and was friendly, causing me to smile back at her.
“Hi, can I get a medium iced mocha?”
“Iced, huh?” She said as she scribbled on the plastic cup with her marker. “It’s pretty cold for iced drinks.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said as I dug through my purse for my wallet. “I don’t like hot drinks. Doesn’t really matter how cold it is.” I reached out to hand her my credit card and then a thought shot right to the front of my brain, making my heart falter. “Is it too late to make it decaf?”
She shook her head, “Of course not.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I’m sure one cup of coffee wasn’t going to hurt, but I wanted to do everything by the book. I couldn’t go screwing up this baby before I even was sure it was in there.
“Thank you.”
I walked back to the store really feeling the cold now that I was holding a cup of ice in my hand. I spotted Megan’s car parked on the street in front of Dahlia and a little jolt of anticipation shot through my system and my steps quickened. I unlocked the front doors and walked in, my eyes scanning for her.
“Oh my God, Fella, you’re glowing.” Megan stood behind the counter where a cash register would eventually be, smirking at me.
Never Giving Up (Never #3) Page 3
