by Dana Mason
Mike looks over his glass at me. “What next? Can I see Raegan’s room?”
“Of course,” I say, leading the way. “Just don’t tell her we were in there.”
He follows me into the hall, and I creak open her bedroom door. I hit the light switch, and I’m relieved to see it’s not too messy. It looks lived-in, but not terribly bad. Her room is painted blue and trimmed in white with white plantation shutters covering her window. She’s got a mix of motivational posters, Marvel Comics posters, and some printed nerdy memes from the internet.
Her laptop is still sitting on her bed where she left it, and the shelves above her desk display the few trophies she’s earned in soccer. She’s also got a couple of swimming medals and a spelling bee trophy from a regional win a few years ago. Hanging next to the shelves is a framed photo of her with the Sacramento Kings basketball team and a rack holding all the belts she’s earned in Taekwondo.
He points to the trophies. “She likes sports?”
“She does. She played soccer for years, and she loves basketball and baseball too.”
“Any boyfriends yet?”
“Don’t even say that—Jesus, the universe might hear you!”
He laughs and says, “You were thirteen when I met you.”
The sound of his laughter makes me smile. “Yeah, I know, but we were friends first.”
He steps closer. “Best friends. Right?”
“Yes, we got close very quickly. I always felt a connection, even at that age.”
“That’s what hurt… when you left. I lost my best friend.” He says it quietly but I have no trouble hearing him.
“I know, I’m sorry. I… ah… lost a lot too, but I know it doesn’t compare.”
“It does…” he says. “With the exception of Raegan, it does compare. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t hard. You don’t have to hide your hurt and your regret because you think it’s less than mine.”
I meet his eyes and say, “Thank you, but you don’t have to say that.”
“I’m saying it because I mean it.” He gestures around the room and says, “Show me more.”
I nod and turn out of Raegan’s room. I move toward the hall and point to rooms. “Bathroom, closet. This is my guestroom and office combined.”
He pokes his head in and says, “How often do you have guests?”
“Um… not very often, actually.”
“What next?” he asks. “Show me your room.”
I nod and lead him further down the hall. My door is open, so I step inside. It’s obvious I was in bed when he knocked. The blankets are thrown back haphazardly and the small lamp on my bedside table is on. Mike walks inside and looks around, as if trying to get familiar with everything. I’m suddenly very self-conscious to have him there, and that makes me start talking randomly.
“I didn’t tell Rae about last Monday, but she must have figured it out when I came home upset.” I smile and say, “I can’t believe she told you not to be mean to me.”
“She loves you, and she cares. It’s hard to see people you love in pain.” He meets my eyes and says, “I’m sorry you’ve gone through so much and that you had to do it alone.”
“Michael, you’re apologizing? It’s my fault. I did this to you, not the other way around.”
“I know it’s easy for you to take the blame. You’re that kind of person. You’ve always wanted to carry the burden for everyone, and as much as I want to rage at you, I know you never would have kept this from me by choice—not without a good reason. I believe that.”
“I wanted you to read those letters so you could get to know your daughter, not to gain your pity or to obtain forgiveness I’m not entitled to. You have every right to hate me.”
“Rachel, you have to know, I could never hate you.”
I purse my lips and say, “Right, I know that. Hate might be harsh for you. I understand.”
“What do you want from me, Rachel?” He stares for a moment and I stare back at him. The tattoos, black jeans and his dark t-shirt make him look brooding, almost menacing, but it’s a complete contrast to who he really is. I know this man’s soul. He’s sweet, caring, and full of light. “What do you want?”
It takes me a moment to comprehend what he’s asking. When I do, my answer is easy—immediate. “I want my daughter to have a father. I took that away from her a long time ago, and I need to right that wrong. I want you to get to know your daughter. I owe you that.”
“And for yourself? What do you want for yourself?”
“I… ah, want…” My gaze drifts and I’m quiet for a long time, not sure what to say. What I want is so far out of reach. It’s not something I’ve even thought about, not in years. Isn’t that what all moms do… give up their own desires to satisfy their child’s? “I just want everything out in the open.”
“That’s all, huh?”
“I want you and Raegan to have each other, and I want you both to be happy. What’s wrong with that?”
“Why do you insist on being a martyr?”
“I'm not a martyr, Mike. Do you think I’m faking this for your pity? I’m not trying to burn on a cross here. I want to right a wrong.” I shift my weight, trying not to be uncomfortable with the fact that we’re having this conversation in my bedroom in the middle of the night—me in my nightdress, him fully dressed. I’ve never had a man in here, but Mike’s not just any man. “I honestly don’t know what you want me to say.”
He lifts his hand then lets it fall, and I can see he’s a little frustrated now. He walks around for a moment, looking at things, giving me the chance to take in every little nuance of his body and the way he moves. He’s like a wild animal stalking inside a cage. Every inch of him is covered in taut muscles, all of them flexing slightly when he moves. I watch as he tucks his hands in the pockets of well-fitting jeans. I’m watching him so closely, I’m surprised when he asks, “Have you always lived alone with Raegan?”
“Yes… well, I lived in my dad’s guest house through school, and once I got my full-time job at The Sutter, I moved into an apartment. After a couple of years, I was able to buy this place. It’s been perfect for the two of us.”
“No live-in boyfriends?”
“No!” I say, almost defensive. I think about the question for a long moment, and that’s when I realize what he’s really asking. “I’ve had a couple of relationships. I was with someone in college for about a year, but when we graduated, he moved away.”
“Who else?”
“I dated someone a few years ago… it didn’t work out.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean? Why what? Do you really want to talk about the guys I’ve dated?” I’m a little irritated by the twenty questions, and now I feel like I need to be on defense. “It just didn’t. He wasn’t right for Raegan and me.”
“How long did it last?”
I think about that before answering, and I’m wondering how many of my letters he had time to read, and how much I actually wrote about. “A few months, not very long. But, again, why do you want to know this?”
He shrugs and says, “I guess I want to make sure you’re okay. That you’ve been okay…”
“I’ve been fine.” As I say this, I can’t stop my gaze from lowering to the floor, easily giving away my lie. He’s veering into territory I’m not ready to talk about and I wish he’d stop.
He walks over and looks between the slats in the blinds to see the backyard. “Nice pool. I could picture Raegan out there swimming.”
My irritation immediately fades into relief. “She’s had many backyard birthday parties and playdates out there.”
Mike nods, then he turns to face me. “I’ve missed a lot, you know that… But what you don’t seem to understand is how much I missed you.”
I keep my eyes locked on his, mostly because his honesty takes me by surprise, but I won’t shy away from him, not now, not when I see such heart-rending tenderness in his gaze. A tenderness that strips me of all my defense
s.
“I carried you with me every day,” I whisper. “You’re a permanent part of me. It’s hard to get involved with someone else when you know where you’re supposed to be.” I take a deep breath, fighting the emotions that want to surface. “I knew you were the only man I’d ever love.” Even as I say this, my body feels like a live wire being near him. I’ve never gotten a sexual buzz from anyone else like I do from Mike. I’ve never felt any sense of belonging with anyone but him. “For years, I’ve felt like the world kept turning around me while I stood still.”
He approaches me, getting close. “You were never far from my mind, Rachel. Sometimes I was mad, other times, I just missed you.”
“I’m sorry…”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I want to make sure you understand how I feel, and I want to know everything I’ve missed over the years.”
“I want you to know too, that’s why I wrote the letters. I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“The second guy? Did he hurt you?”
I go rigid at the question. Did he do that on purpose? Tell me all that to get me to drop my guard? Now my pulse is jumping erratically. “Mike, I meant I’d answer any questions about Raegan.”
“But not about you?”
I close my eyes for a long time, trying to focus on my breathing. I try to center myself, get my wits and prepare to face him with the truth, but I’m not ready. When I open my eyes, he’s closer.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He’s so close, I’m almost afraid to respond. I’m not sure my words would be coherent. “Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on me?” he asks.
This almost makes me laugh. I huff out a little breath and say, “Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on me?” I whisper.
“No, why don’t you tell me.”
“It’s been a long time.” I close my eyes again because I want to be honest, but I’m so afraid. “I’d given up… given up on relationships, on men, on the idea of ever being touched again… but then you were there. Right there in that hotel suite, making me feel things I thought I’d never feel again.”
“I know we need to talk, and I want to finish this, but right now, I want you, Rachel, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my hands off you.”
I meet his eyes and he’s so close, I can feel the heat from his body and it’s as if he’s slowly waking mine up. I’m tingling from head to toe, my breath is quivering, and my heart is pounding. I’m so unsure of my own voice that all I can do is nod.
When I do, he lifts his hand and slowly swipes my hair from my shoulder. A moment later, I feel his gentle touch along my collarbone. “I want to feel the rush I’ve only ever felt with you… I want to experience you again and remember why I’ve never felt this with anyone else.” Then his finger grazes my throat before traveling along my bottom lip. “And I want to strip you naked and remind you why you’ve never felt like this with anyone else too.”
His words send an instant jolt of heat through me. His eyes are smoldering, burning into me as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is that okay?”
I wet my lips and say, “Yes.” The word gets lost when he kisses me, his hand cupping the back of my head and bringing me closer. He tastes like the whiskey, his mouth hot and demanding. Oh, God, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“Rachel,” he moans as his lips slide across my jawbone. “I never stopped wanting you, not for a minute.”
“You can have me, Michael. You already own every inch of me, all you need to do is take it.”
He unties my robe, then pushes it off my shoulders, roaming deliberately, teasingly over my nightdress. He slides his hands up my body, then cups my face as he kisses me, his movements gentle yet torturous. When he lifts the straps of my nightdress away, his lips land on the curve of my neck, then my collarbone. The heat of his tongue, then the graze of his teeth torments me ruthlessly. A moment later, his hands are under the fabric and slowly gliding up my back.
Every inch of me is sensitive to him, my nerves exposed as he explores. When he lifts my nightdress and tugs it over my head, goosebumps rise on my skin from the contrast of his hot mouth traveling down my shoulder. I lean back and grip the dresser behind me, holding on for dear life. My knees want to buckle, and it’s all I can do to keep from sinking to the floor.
He touches my breasts, palming them, pressing hard, but not hard enough to satisfy. I remember how much Mike loved my breasts. They’re larger than average, and that fascinated him when we were teenagers. Going through my pregnancy and having Raegan has only made them fuller and, from the glow in his eyes, he doesn’t mind.
“Fuck… your body is incredible, Rachel.”
I almost want to laugh at that. I’ve only gotten wider since we were in school. Hearing something like that from someone with a perfect body like his is crazy. Mike’s hands slide down and over my hips, gripping them and holding me tightly against him. His erection is hard, pressing into my stomach, and I want it. I want it in my hand, my mouth, my body.
I push on his hips slightly so I can unbutton his jeans, and as I reach my hand between us, I hear another moan. Mike’s mouth is locked on my right breast, and I can feel the nip of his teeth. When my hand wraps around his cock, he bites down, causing a squeak from me.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, licking away the pain, but as I rub up and down his length, he sucks harder, then he switches. It feels so good, even when he’s rough. Having his hands on me is a dream come true. It’s every fantasy I’ve had for fourteen years finally coming true.
I tug my hand free and push on his jeans—I need them out of the way, I need all of the clothes out of the way. As if sensing my urgency, Mike removes his shirt then kicks his jeans the rest of the way off.
Staring at him, I can’t help but lick my lips. He’s so cut, with the perfect V leading to his very large, erect cock. He cups my face again, and then he whispers, “What do you want, baby?”
I look up into his eyes, and they’re nearly black with desire. “Michael, I want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” The words come out on a moan, and it’s all I can do to keep the tears at bay. It’s true. Having him in my bedroom is all I’ve ever wanted.
He runs his hands through my hair and fists a handful, kissing me hard. I wrap myself around him and explore the feel of his skin. He’s warm to the touch and solid rock, but soft, smooth. I run my hands down and around the curve of his ass, and it’s perfect. Then I slide around and grip his length.
Mike pulls his mouth from mine, and our eyes meet. I lower myself to the floor in front of him and with his hands still fisted in my hair, I lick the tip of his cock and draw it into my mouth. I’ve only ever done this with him, and I remember the first time like yesterday.
I remember how powerful I felt, bringing him to climax with just my mouth. It’s one of my favorite memories. Having gone through so much of my life feeling helpless and out of control, that little act gave me more of a confidence boost than anything else ever could.
As I slide my tongue up and down, then bring him into my mouth, his grip on my hair tightens. He tastes deliciously manly, and clean. And as I grip the base of his cock and move him in and out of my mouth, I feel him tense up. Then he slides from my mouth, panting as he lifts me to my feet. “You have to stop. Jesus, you have to stop before I lose it.”
“That was part of my plan,” I mumble, bringing my lips to his chest. I suck on his nipple and graze it with my teeth like he did mine. Exploring the hills and valleys of his body, I find every inch is firm yet smooth. The planks of his chest and abs are so defined, I can feel the bulge of every muscle.
“But it’s not part of my plan,” he says, lifting me off my feet so that I can wrap my legs around his hips. When he sets me down on the bed, I scoot back to make room for him, but he doesn’t lay next to me, he hovers over me, and he’s big. So much bigger than I remember. I run my hands over his chest and with the light of the small bedside lamp, I c
an see the ink and the definition of every inch of him. “You’re so beautiful, Michael.”
Our eyes are locked again, and it’s as if I can see the intense feelings swimming around his mind as he watches me. “You are so beautiful… I can’t believe I’m here with you,” he whispers. “It’s been so long. I’d given up on ever having this with you again.”
I know exactly how he feels. My mind is reeling too. “I don’t want to screw this up again.”
“Would making love to you right now screw it up?” he asks in a husky voice.
“No!” I say, a little louder than I meant to. “Not making love to me might do some damage, though.”
I love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I bring my hand to his face and run my finger over all the edges. “You’re older and larger than I remember, but you’re still you… You’re still the boy I fell in love with all those years ago. You’re still the boy who gave me my greatest gift.”
“You’ve changed too. More amazing and more beautiful.” He grips my hip and says, “You’re sexy as fuck too. More womanly and softer. Incredible, Rachel.”
“Fatter.”
“No.” He reaches up and pushes the hair off my face and says, “And don’t say that. You’re perfect… with perfect curves that I can’t wait to explore.” As he says this, he lowers his mouth to mine, then kisses his way down, his hands roaming every inch of my body, getting reacquainted with every nuance. His movements are slow and methodical, almost torturous as they roam my breasts, then my hips before gliding down my thighs. I try to close my eyes and enjoy the sensation, but I’m afraid if I take my eyes off him, he’ll disappear. When his lips land on my hip, a quiet moan escapes.
When his hands slide under my ass, he lifts me slightly closer so that his lips hover over my C-section scar. He caresses the scar with a gentle finger as he follows it along my lower abs. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry you had to go through it without me.”
