“I don’t want to go. I don’t like soccer anymore.” He pouts, stomping his foot with his temper tantrum.
“Since when?” I question, irritated.
“Since now!” he screams.
I look up to the ceiling and count to three. Then, once my eyes land back on him, I do a recount, this time verbally.
“You have three seconds to get that little tushy in your bed, or I will take your Kindle away from you for the entire weekend. One—”
“So what? Take it. I hate reading!”
Yep, my boy is definitely tired when he says things like he hates soccer and reading. Those are two of his favorite things.
“Well, that’s a first. Two,” I continue my countdown with a harsher tone.
The threat in my voice doesn’t seem to faze him as he stays centered in the middle of his bedroom.
“Two and a half.” I take ahold of his Kindle that was sitting on top of his dresser and hold it to my chest, noticing the way his green eyes widen when he realizes I’m not bluffing.
Then, as I move my mouth to say three, he scurries to his bed just as we hear a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it!”
I roll my eyes as he runs in the direction of the living room with me hurrying behind him. I manage to grab ahold of him by the waist and hoist him in my arms until I’m cradling him like a baby. He weighs a frigging ton, but I manage to keep a tight hold of him even though my back will suffer for it. He giggles, a sound that soothes my heart in an instant, and the temper tantrum is soon forgotten about.
“What did I say to you about answering the door?” I scold.
The laughter falls from his lips, and he thinks hard for a second before reciting what I’ve always drummed into his head, “That I shouldn’t answer the door because I don’t know who is on the other side of it.”
“And do you know who it is?”
“No,” he says with a shake of the head, lowering his head with regret.
I see his bottom lip quivering, and I hate to see his handsome face look all sad. I lean my head against his and focus on the eyes filling with tears.
“Don’t cry. I make these rules because I love you, okay? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re all I have, and I’ll do whatever I can to protect you. I love you to the moon and back.”
His chin stops wobbling, and he gives me his charming smile, a smile that I know, one day, a girl is going to fall head over heels for.
“I love you to the universe and beyond,” he replies.
I press a kiss to his nose and then let him down on the floor, cursing under my breath when my back cracks at the pressure of his weight. I look through the peephole, but the hallway is empty. However, when I open the door, I see a rectangular gift box on the floor.
“Oh, look, you have another present,” Junior says with the same enthusiasm as if I’d told him I was taking him to Disney World.
I pick up the box and bring it inside, closing the door shut with my foot.
“If I open it now, you have to promise me that you will go straight to bed, no arguments, okay?”
Honestly, this kid gets as excited as I do with these gifts from Drew.
“Okay, I promise.” He nods eagerly as I place the box down on the kitchen counter.
Smiling, I unwrap the packaging, and just as I begin to open the lid, I slam it back down, my entire body heating up at what I just saw in the box.
Sexy black lingerie.
“What is it?” Junior’s intrigued voice inquires.
My brain desperately seeks a kiddie-proof excuse I can give him, and for a solid five seconds, I have nothing.
“It’s your birthday present,” I blurt out.
His eyes grow wider as delight brightens his face. “My birthday present?”
“Yes, but since it’s not your birthday until next Friday, you can’t open it yet.”
“Ah, please, Mama?”
“No. Now, will you please go to bed? Or I will confiscate your Kindle, and you won’t get to open your present on Friday. The decision is up to you.”
He curiously eyes the gift box before looking up at me with defeat. “Fine, but will you read to me?”
“Of course I will, bud. Now, get that butt of yours in bed,” I demand, chasing him into his bedroom, following his giggles with my own.
We have this bizarre relationship where, one minute, we can have a screaming match, and the next, we’re giggling and goofing around. It’s what makes our bond strong and unique, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
He is a good kid. He just gets incredibly cranky when he’s tired, hungry, and sugar-deprived. He’s definitely his mother’s son.
I only manage to get through one page of his book when I notice he is already passed out. I put his Kindle to the side and press a good-night kiss to his forehead. I leave his room and make a beeline to the gift waiting for me in the kitchen.
A smile creeps on my face as I open it and look down at the French lace bra and panty lingerie set gently lying upon white tissue paper, much similar to the lingerie Drew utterly destroyed not even a week ago. I close my eyes and allow the memories of our first night together to run through my mind, remembering how he set my body alight with his touch alone, and how, even now, he has me craving his touch so bad that I’m already aching and wet for him.
I reopen my eyes, looking back to the lingerie set sitting immaculately in its gift box, and I decide to make good use of it.
A naughty giggle quietly leaves my lips as I head into my bedroom to change into this racy little number. The lace feels incredible against my skin. As I look at myself in the mirror, I love the way the bra enhances my cleavage with a slight lift and how my panties fit flawlessly across my ass. Somehow, the lingerie miraculously shows just enough skin to make it sexy and not slutty.
Hell, maybe it is a little slutty.
A new sense of confidence glows from within me, created by the man who seems to look at me as if I walk on water, a look that makes every inch of my body tremble from the intensity of it. Pure and hypnotic, it’s as if he can see every one of my thoughts, every one of my secrets.
A thrill of exhilaration courses through me as I grab Drew’s phone to take a selfie for him when I realize I have a few text messages from him. I ignore the messages for a minute, worried I might change my mind if I don’t do what I currently have in mind now.
Smiling seductively in the mirror—or at least trying to—I hold the camera to the side and take a picture. I look at it, and I know something is missing. I dig the ankle boots I wore last weekend out of my closet. They’re my only heels, donated by my best friend. I slip them on and zip them up. I resume my position in front of my mirror, and again, before I can chicken out, I quickly take the picture.
I have never done anything as risky or daring as this, but right now, I’m more comfortable in my own body than I ever have been.
I don’t even give it a cautious thought when I forward the picture to Drew, and the anticipation for his response is almost unbearable.
As I await his reply, I scan through his previous text messages.
Drew: Hey, how’s your day been? I can’t wait for our date tomorrow. All day, I’ve been nonstop thinking about your lips wrapping around my dick. That happens on the first date, right? ;)
I bark out a laugh as I inwardly answer his text message in my head. Since we had sex before our first date, I’m pretty sure giving you a blow job is pretty tame.
I read the next one.
Drew: Sugar, there’s an after-hours treat for you on your doorstep.
I’ve barely finished reading the text when I receive an incoming call with Drew’s name flashing on the screen.
I answer on the second ring, and I’m greeted with a strained, “Fuck me, sugar.”
I laugh lightly down the receiver. “You like?” I walk toward the bed and sit on the edge.
“No. I fucking love. I just about exploded in my pants at that picture. You look�
��” He pauses before saying, “Is there a word for being beautiful and sexy?”
“I don’t know. How about you go with beautifully sexy, perhaps?” I suggest with an amused smile on my face.
“Well, you’re beautiful and sexy and every other word describing both. You look so fucking incredible that it’s taking everything within me not to break down your door right now and rip that lingerie off your body.”
“Then, you’d have to buy me another set,” I point out.
“Sugar,” he says my nickname, as if he lives and breathes the very word, “I’ll keep buying you as much underwear as you want as long as I’ll be the one taking it off.”
“If you wanted to be my sugar daddy, you could have just said so.”
His deep chuckle reverberates through me.
“Although I’ve never been one to rely on other people’s money, if you want to keep buying me lingerie or sugar sticks, I won’t say no.”
“You’re a girl of simple tastes. Most girls want extravagance, like that of diamonds.”
I shake my head, a smile playing on my lips. “I’m more of a sugar girl. Diamonds are overrated.”
The sound of his husky laugh is one I could spend the rest of my life listening to on a loop.
“So, what do you think of the underwear?”
My fingertips trail over the exquisite lace of the bra. “It’s gorgeous. You have incredible taste.”
“You still wearing it?”
“I sure am,” I flirtatiously respond.
Drew’s quiet grunt can be heard, and my smile grows at how three simple words from my mouth can affect him with a caveman response. It’s so hot.
“You ever had phone sex?”
My thighs clench at his question.
“Once.” I don’t need to clarify whom it was with since Drew knows I’ve only ever been with Christopher before him.
“Where are you now?” he asks.
I shimmy my way up my bed until I’m leaning against the headboard, my legs crossed at the ankles. “I’m lying on my bed.”
“I’m switching to FaceTime,” he quickly bites out.
The next thing I know the FaceTime tone is ringing against my ear. I look at the screen and press Answer. I smile when his fine-looking face comes into view, his blue eyes hooded with pure lust.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he replies with a matching smile, dazzling me with his charm.
I notice he’s sitting in his living room, naked from the waist up.
“You completely naked?” I ask.
He pivots the camera down the length of his body, coming to a stop at his cock that’s tenting his sweatpants. I giggle when he thrusts his hips toward the camera.
He tilts the camera back to his face, locking his penetrating eyes with mine. “You see what you do to me when you send me explicit pictures of yourself?”
“Hardly explicit,” I deadpan.
“Well, let’s make it explicit. Touch yourself.” His carnal demand escapes his soft, full lips.
I can hardly contain the whimper that comes from my mouth.
“Where?” I whisper, my vocal cords suddenly feeling constricted under the heat of his stare.
“Touch those pretty tits of yours.”
My pussy tightens against the material of my panties, and the lace is becoming unbearably wet. Lust carries me forward, and I angle the camera lower with my left hand while my right hand gently caresses my breast.
“Fuck me,” Drew breathes.
I love the way he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he watches me. My thumb trails along my rigid nipple, wishing it were Drew’s thumb instead of mine.
At this point, the bath I wanted earlier is quickly forgotten about. I’m thinking this will ease my stress better than any soothing bath could.
“That good, sugar?”
I nod. It’s not because of what I’m doing to myself, but because of the man who’s watching me. The intensity of his stare sets my body alight, and my touch is just igniting those flames.
“Push the cups below those tits, and let me see those perfect pink nipples.”
I heavily gulp, and I instinctively pull my bra below my breasts, my nipples hardening that little bit more as the cool air hits my bare skin. I see Drew’s eyes widen, and it’s a vision I find myself drawn to, obsessed with. His stare is enough of a prompt for my fingers to trail over the flesh of my right breast, my thumb and forefinger pinching the bud. The bite between pleasure and pain has my eyes fluttering closed, and a moan breathes through my parted lips.
“Fuck yeah,” I hear through the phone.
My skin prickles with awareness of his voyeuristic eyes.
“Are you touching yourself?” I softly speak through my inhales as I open my eyes again, soaking in every inch of his handsome self as he soaks in every inch of me.
“Yes, and my cock is so fucking hard for you.” He grinds his teeth with the impact of how turned on he is.
I love how I’m the reason for the haunted look of pleasure that sexily contorts his face right now. A spark shoots straight to my clit, and I elevate my hips while simultaneously pressing my thighs together to ease the heavy pressure building from within me.
“Show me,” I plead.
My eyes drift to the icon of myself in the right corner of the screen, and I look almost unrecognizable. My cheeks are aglow, flushed pink, my eyes are heavy with pure, unadulterated heat, and my lips are unusually swollen with every unsteady breath that I take.
It’s liberating, freeing.
I love the person who Drew has been helping me become—a person who is living life to the fullest. And all it took was his dirty, filthy mouth and bad taste in music to push me out of my comfort zone and into a ball game of its own league. A league where lust and love, friends and lovers and soul mates come hand in hand.
I had this with Christopher. He was my best friend. He was my everything.
But, at the rate that Drew is stealing my heart, I’m starting to believe that perhaps he is right. Forever can be possible; it does exist, just not in the fairy-tale way I was taught to believe from such a young age. Forever isn’t restricted to one person; soul mates can still be a part of you, even when they’re not.
Drew has effortlessly pulled me out of a dark, lonely shell, and I love that he is the one on the other side of that darkness, helping me understand that there is an afterlife after Christopher, that my world hasn’t stopped turning.
The camera tilts down until it stops over his tented crotch, and at an excruciatingly slow pace, he pulls his sweatpants over his hips, and his monster of a cock springs free, the swollen head dripping with pre-cum.
“Drew,” I moan, my heart rate accelerating, my breathing choppy. I itch to reach out for it, to bring his arousal to climax with my fingers, to feel his eruption on my skin in a way that would claim me.
“God, my name never sounded so good leaving your pretty lips,” Drew groans out just as he takes ahold of his erection, squeezing the length within the palm of his hand. “I wish that mouth was around my cock right now.”
I shudder, wishing the very same thing, craving the taste of him. My thighs clench together again, desperate to ease the pulsating that’s driving me utterly insane right now. “Drew…”
I’m breathless as his masculine fingers move up and down his length, and it’s a sight to behold. My hand trails along my stomach until my fingers stop at the edge of my panties.
“Don’t stop; keep going,” he urges as his fist continues to pump his cock, his knuckles solid white at the intensity of his grip.
My eyes stay focused on the screen while I slip my fingers under the lace. I’m met with silky wetness as two of my fingers slide against my folds.
I moan as pure ecstasy fills every inch of my soul.
“Fuck, pivot the phone lower,” he commands through the phone.
I do just that as I spread my fingers through the warm slickness, my hips thrusting upward. I skim over my protruding cli
t, sending shock waves up my spine.
“Oh God,” I whimper. I notice the speed of his hand against his cock increases at the sound of my voice.
“You wet, baby?”
“I’m soaking,” I answer filthily, the words coming out on a whoosh of air.
The screen flips to his face, and at the look of dark lust in his eyes, his skin flushed, I press my fingers deeper against the sensitive nub.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer. Just knowing your fingers are touching your pussy—my pussy—is driving me insane.”
“My pussy.”
The way he looks as he growls the words with the stiffening of his jaw and the trembling of his upper body pushes me toward the edge of insanity. My fingers pick up speed as I continue to circle my clit, the inside of my pussy walls throbbing with my near climax.
“Your pussy?” I breathe heavily.
I spin the screen around so that we can both ride out our orgasms face-to-face, my fingers never once easing their speed.
“Yes. My. Pussy,” he grinds out, his eyes glossing over, as he stares at me with an intense glare that zones straight for my heart.
I have no room to argue with him because, right now, I wholeheartedly agree with him. He owns me in a way I can’t explain, and he’s quickly taking control of my heart faster than I can comprehend, faster than I’m physically ready for. But, when he makes me feel as if I could soar through the sky without so much as a parachute, I know falling for him at the speed I am is a risk I’m willing to take. And it’s the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.
“Whose pussy is it?” Drew drawls.
Heat swirls around me as my clit throbs under my touch.
“Yours. It’s your pussy.” The words come out as a whimpered whisper while my hips begin to thrust of their own accord. My impending orgasm is taking over my body and mind, almost as if possessing every inch of me.
“Fuck yeah, all mine.”
His dirty mouth only adds to the fire burning through my veins. My heart is almost threatening to burst from my chest, and it takes everything within me to keep my eyes on Drew, who looks like he’s about ready to blow.
Just. A. Few. More. Seconds.
Our Forever Page 18
