Everything I Want

by MacMillan, Jerica

  When she showed up on my stage, perched on that stool for Marcus to sing to her, it was like my naive belief was paying off. But all my hopes were dashed again, trampled by my anger. I held onto that righteous anger, and it blocked my dormant feelings out for a while. But eventually it cracked and peeled away like old paint, leaving the fact that my heart has only beat for her since high school.

  Now her and Maddie.

  And now, she’s here in my arms.

  Once we’re inside, I waste no time pulling her close, angling her head, and devouring her mouth. Picking up where we left off that night at her apartment, but this time there’s no four-year-old to interrupt us.

  When my hands slip under her shirt, sliding over her smooth skin to the clasp of her bra, she presses herself against me instead of pulling away like she has the last few nights after Maddie’s been in bed.

  Instead, her hands claw at my shirt, yanking the fabric up until I’m forced to break away from her with a low chuckle as I bend and pull my arms out of my sleeves and help it over my head. She flings it away, her eyes tracking down my chest to my belt, and my laughter dies in my throat, replaced by a growl at the desire stamped on her face.

  I reach for her, returning the favor of removing her shirt, quickly followed by her bra, only hindered by the way she attacks my belt buckle, making a noise of frustration when I pull her hand away so she can slide it out of her bra strap.

  I’d laugh, but I’m too intent on getting her out of her clothes. Getting my hands on her. Discovering if she still likes the same things. If there are new things she might like better.

  She lets out a “Ha!” of triumph as she gets my belt undone and my jeans grow loose around my hips. All thoughts of how adorable she is fly out of my head when she shoves her hand inside my boxer briefs and rubs up and down my shaft. I’ve been hard since we left the restaurant, imagining all the things I want to do to her, all the things I’ll have the time and space to do to her now that we have some time alone, trying to prioritize where to start.

  But now—now all I can think about is the sweet friction of her fingers circling me, pumping me. When she releases me, I blink at her, but before I can try to get her out of her skinny jeans, she drops to her knees in front of me, her fingers peeling my underwear out of the way, pushing them and my jeans down to the tops of my thighs.

  Then she takes me in hand again and—holy shit—licks me from base to tip before sliding her mouth over the swollen head of my rock-hard dick.

  I groan her name. “Fuck, Sam. That feels amazing.” She bobs slowly, tonguing the head, not taking me very deep, but I don’t fucking care. She can suck on the tip all night for all I care.

  Wait. No. I want inside her.

  But I don’t want her to stop either.

  When she starts sliding her hand over my shaft in time with her mouth, moving faster, I grit my teeth and wrap my fingers around her wrist. If I let her keep going, I’m going to blow in her mouth. And I don’t want that. Not when there are so many other things I want to do to her. With her.

  I want so much more from her than just a blowjob. She’s not some groupie just trying to suck me off for bragging rights.

  She’s Sam.

  The woman I’ve loved since I was old enough to know what that meant.

  The mother of my child.

  The woman I’ve never gotten over.

  And now I don’t have to.

  “Stop.” The word is a tortured whisper.

  She backs off me with her mouth, but doesn’t let me go, her eyes darting to mine, her brows wrinkling. “What’s wrong? Is it not good? I can—”

  “No,” I cut in. “No, it’s amazing. Too amazing. I want to taste you too.”

  Her expression turns mischievous, a sly, sexy smile curving her lips. “Oh. You wanna sixty-nine?”

  Pulling her to her feet, I let out a bark of laughter. “No, baby. No. I want to taste your sweet pussy.” I kiss her neck, stroking my hands up and down her back and pressing her breasts into my chest, her peaked nipples providing a counterpoint to the softness of the rest of her. “Then I want to fuck your brains out.” She shivers in my arms, but makes no objection.

  Turning us around, I back her up to the couch, my hands coming to the button of her jeans and undoing them, enjoying the slow grate of the zipper as I tug it down. Slowly, I push my hands into the back of her jeans, pushing them out of the way, pausing to grip handfuls of her ass. “I love your curves,” I breathe against her lips.

  With a gentle push, I guide her to sit, bending to pull off her boots and then her pants and panties. She giggles when I can’t get them over her feet, reaching down to help me out.

  And then she’s naked in front of me, and it’s my turn to get on my knees. It’s been so long since I’ve had her like this, spread out for me. And this time there’s no keeping an eye on the clock to make sure we finish before parents come home. No keeping one ear open for interruptions. We have time. Time for me to worship her body like she deserves. Like I used to. Like I’ve been wanting to for an eternity.

  Running my lips up the inside of her thigh, I relish her silky skin. I’ve always loved her skin, and getting free access to it again is heaven. Sliding my hands up the outside of her thighs, I guide her legs over my shoulders until my lips meet soft, springy curls.

  The scent of her arousal surrounds me, adding another layer to the sensory explosion in my brain.

  God, I love this woman.

  And I want to spend every day showing her exactly how much. Starting now.

  Her breath shudders in her chest when I meet her eyes, finding her molten center and giving it a slow lick. “Aaron.” My name is a whisper, a plea. So I give her more. Another flat-tongued lick from opening to clit. Slow circles around that slick little nub, watching the way her belly tenses and shudders, feeling her thighs tensing on my shoulders as she squirms. I slide my hands under her ass again, holding on, keeping her steady for me to taste and pleasure at my will, loving her hitching breaths and whimpery sounds.

  I take my time, alternating between sucking and licking, backing off a bit before ramping up again, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. When I bring one hand out from under her and sink a finger inside, her muscles flutter, and I pull out and add another finger, making her groan and squirm again.

  “God, Aaron. I’m so close.” Her eyes are closed, and she’s biting her lower lip, her body undulating for me. I press my fingers to her G-spot, tapping gently as I suck on her clit, and she explodes with a cry, her arms and legs going rigid, her fingers clutching the couch cushions.

  Her dark green eyes open, dark with passion, and lock with mine. “I need you.”

  And that’s all it takes to have me surging over her, laying her back on the couch, settling between her spread thighs and kissing her, cursing when I remember my pants are still around my thighs.

  She needs me. I want to roar out my satisfaction at those words.

  I kick off my pants, pausing to dig the condom out of my wallet that I’ve been carrying just in case we ever made it further than kissing one of these times. And now I’m thankful for my foresight, because I don’t want to leave her for even the few seconds it would take to go to my room and get a condom from the box.

  Because she needs me. Right fucking now.

  Suited up, I pause for a second to admire her spread before me, waiting. Begging. “Please, Aaron.” She reaches for me, and I can’t deny her what she’s asking. Especially when I ache for the same thing—to be inside her. For us to exist as one being again, if only for a fleeting blissful moment.

  With one hand guiding me, I line myself up, notching just the head inside her. She spreads her thighs as wide as she can with the back of the couch blocking a leg, her hands crawling to my shoulders. I brace myself over her, lowering my mouth to hers as I slowly move inside her. She felt so tight around my fingers that I make the effort not to just ram into her, much as my caveman brain urges me to do that.

  But t
his is Sam. My Sam. I won’t do that to her.

  She lifts her hips to meet mine, and slowly, so slowly, we work me all the way in. I let out a shaky breath. “God. You feel …” I shake my head, unable to find words.

  Words aren’t needed. With her hand behind my neck, she guides my mouth back to hers, her hips lifting beneath me, urging me to move.

  Following her unspoken directions, I rock against her, holding myself up on one arm so I can stroke her body with my free hand, running it up and down her side, down her leg, which she lifts to hook over my hip. Retracing my path to find her arm, I follow it up to my shoulder.

  She releases my shoulder, threading her fingers with mine, letting me hold her hand against the cushion next to her head. This …

  This is so much more than sex.

  So much more than making love.

  It’s a reunion.

  The best kind of reunion.

  One I never thought I’d get. One I barely admitted to myself that I wanted until she turned up again. One I’ve craved since we separated years ago.

  I move faster, my control fraying as I slide in and out. Her slick heat. Her skin. Her taste still on my lips. Her.

  Everything about her makes me lose myself, remakes me into the man I wanted to be, before everything changed.

  Before my dad died.

  Before I became jaded and exhausted from life on tour.

  Before I lost her.

  And now …

  Now I have the chance to be that man again. For her. For me. For Maddie.

  She has both legs wrapped around me as I pound into her, my thoughts and feelings spurring me to move faster, take more from her as I’m giving her everything.

  Because I want to give her everything.

  With my mouth once again fused to hers, our fingers still tangled together, tingling heat scalds my spine and I pour myself into her. I don’t break the kiss as my body shudders. Or for long seconds after, wanting to prolong this bliss for as long as possible, even knowing that the responsible thing is to withdraw, deal with the condom, take her to my bedroom so we can cuddle and talk and do this again before she has to go back to her apartment.

  But when I try to break the kiss, she cups my cheeks and doesn’t let go. So I sink into her mouth once more. Happy, as always, to give her everything she wants.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Samantha

  Cupping Aaron’s cheeks, I hold his mouth to mine, luxuriating in the slow, sweet slide of his tongue against mine, unwilling to relinquish this connection. Not yet. Not so soon.

  Because once I let go, once he gets up, we’ll have to return to reality. To figuring out what this means.

  Yes, I wanted this. As much as he obviously did.

  But …

  There are so many things to consider. And even without releasing him yet—not yet—I can’t stem the flood of thoughts and worries that are already crashing over the wall of bliss holding them at bay.

  Reluctantly I let him go. He looks down at me, his eyes warm and full of … affection. Because I won’t let myself give it the other name. If I admit it’s the L word, then the faint ache in my heart will turn into a sharp pain, a crack, a chasm. And I can’t bear it again.

  Not yet.

  He presses one more kiss to my lips and withdraws. The loss of him on top of me, inside me, is more than just a physical thing. He holds onto the condom as he strides confidently to the bathroom, his face and posture untroubled by any concerns.

  To be so relaxed about everything …

  Rolling onto my side, I curl my knees up, tucking my hands under my face, watching the space where he disappeared, my mind churning.

  Maddie and I will be going with him to the wedding in Massachusetts soon. And then he’ll be back here with us for a week? Two? And then he’ll be resuming his tour. He has to go. I know this. But …

  But I don’t want him to.

  I don’t want to let him go so soon after reconnecting with him. Especially now after …

  That.

  Our connection is as strong as it ever was. There’s no awkwardness, no fumbling like when we were both enthusiastic but inexperienced, discovering how to make each other’s bodies sing together.

  He still remembers how to hit all the right spots.

  Or he’s had enough experience to just know the right spots on everyone.

  Firming my lips, I forcibly push that thought aside. But it only brings up new worries on its heels. Just because he’s here with me now, will he sleep with other women when he’s back on tour? I’ve seen pictures of their stages littered with lingerie. I’m aware of the mythology of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The parties. The groupies. The rumors of him and one of his bandmates sharing the band’s assistant.

  That has my stomach churning more than any of the other thoughts. He hasn’t mentioned her at all. And I don’t know if that makes it better … or much, much worse.

  “What are you doing still out there?” Aaron pokes his head around the corner, grinning at me and pulling me from the whirlwind of depressing thoughts.

  I sit up, and his eyes fall to my chest, his tongue darting out to slide over his lips. And I can’t help answering his smile with my own. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

  His eyes heat. “I figured round two should be in my bed.” I dip my eyes to take in the way his half-hard dick twitches as he steps fully out of the door and crosses his arms to lean a shoulder against the frame. “Unless you’re more into christening the whole house?”

  Chuckling, I stand and step closer to him. “I’m not sure my lady bits can handle that much activity after so long without any.”

  His gray eyes dart up to mine, the obvious question stamped on his face. But I close the distance between us, pulling his mouth to mine before he can give it voice. If he asks how long it’s been, I’ll have to admit that he was my last. My first. My only. And then I’ll feel the need to return the question, and my fragile heart isn’t prepared to know the truth.

  Instead, I back him into the bedroom, thrilling when he hitches his hands at the base of my butt, jerking me up against him. I wrap my legs around his waist, the ridge of his erection sliding against where I’m still wet and sensitive and ready for him. He groans into my mouth as he carries me to his bed, sitting back, his hands kneading my ass as I rub myself all over him.

  We’re insatiable, the chemistry between us reignited and burning hot with no signs of flaring out any time soon.

  “God. Fuck. I need to be inside you again.” His voice is almost a growl.

  “Yes yes yes,” I chant in time with the movement of my hips.

  He actually growls when he stills me, pushing me back so I’m on his thighs, and I’m so dazed and blinded by lust that I don’t understand why he’s doing that until he reaches over and digs in a drawer on his bedside table, coming back with a strip of condoms.

  Tearing one off, he tosses the remainder on the floor, ripping open the package and rolling it on in record time. His hands are on my ass again, but I’m moving without his encouragement, reaching between us to hold him steady while I slide down, so wet and ready for him that I’m full and seated, panting through the exquisite stretch in no time at all.

  He throws his head back, the tendons on his neck standing out as he breathes through gritted teeth. “God, Sam. I’ve never been able to get enough of you. I can’t …” He shakes his head, like words fail him.

  With one hand behind my neck, he pulls me close, his mouth seeking mine. I give it to him, slowly grinding my hips on him, taking my time, enjoying our connection more than the chase to the finish line.

  Neither of us is in a hurry, and round two lasts significantly longer than round one. Sometime later after three orgasms—two for me, one for him—I’m lying on my stomach on Aaron’s bed, my face resting on my overlapped hands. He’s stretched out on his side next to me, one hand holding up his head, the other leisurely stroking my back. Up. Down. Up. Down. It’s hypnotic. Relaxing. And
so Aaron that I can’t hold back my smile.

  “What’s that smile?” he asks, his own smile coloring the question.

  I place my chin on one of my fists, sliding my eyes in his direction. “You. This. I was remembering how you always had to touch my skin as much as possible. When we were at school, you’d turn my hand palm up in your lap so you could do this to my forearm. If I had on a skirt or shorts and we were in a car, it was the inside of my thigh. Naked, it’s my back.”

  “You have perfect skin,” he says, his smile growing more boyish. He leans over and places a kiss between my shoulder blades. “I’ve missed it. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  He meets my eyes, that L word glowing there again. And this time I can’t stop myself from calling it by its proper name—love. I know that look on Aaron too well. “I’m glad Marcus pulled you up on stage that night.”

  “Are you?” I ask, unable to take the statement at face value for some reason. “Even with everything?”

  “Yes.” He shifts, placing his head on the pillow and pulling me around so my head rests on his shoulder and our legs tangle together. “I do still wish you would’ve told me about Maddie from the beginning, but I understand that you thought you were doing the right thing. Even though I was mad for quite a while, I’m not anymore.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve missed so much with her,” I confess, my voice quiet.

  “Me too,” he says just as softly. “Which is why I intend to be as involved as possible from now on. I don’t want to miss any more.”

  I force myself not to stiffen, that old fear that he wants to take her away rearing up. Or I try. But it doesn’t seem to work, because Aaron’s touch changes from lazy, sensual strokes to intentional soothing.

  “We’ve already talked about this, Sam,” he reassures me, reading my mind as well as my body. Just like he always used to. “I’m not going to take her away. I mean phone calls and video chats and everything while I’m on the road. And spending as much time with you both when I’m back. That’s all.”