by Liz Durano
I love seeing Alma come out of her shell ever since she moved to Taos. The shy, quiet Alma I know is a tiger in bed and I love it when she doesn’t ’t shy from what letting me know what she wants. As I take a step towards her, Alma sits up and runs her fingers along my belly, my muscles rippling beneath her touch.
She licks her lips, her gaze following the path of her fingers as they find the top of my hipbone and move lower. As she cups my balls, I groan, weaving my fingers in her hair. My cock stands in attention, a pearl of precum glistening at the tip.
“I want you,” she whispers, her eyes locking with mine as she wraps her hand around the shaft and leans closer.
Everything around me disappears as she kisses the tip of my dick before lapping up the precum. I groan again. Her tongue feels hot as she slowly takes the head of my cock in her mouth, sucking softly before pulling back, her gaze never leaving mine. She repeats it again and again, going deeper each time, coating my dick with her saliva.
I ball her hair in my fingers, loving the feel of her mouth around my cock. But I also know that anymore and I’ll come too soon. Five days is five days and I’ve been saving it all up for her.
I pull her to her feet and press my mouth against hers, one hand behind her neck and the other squeezing her ass.
“My turn,” I murmur as I push her down on the bed. Alma scoots higher up the bed, looking delicious in her matching red lace bra and thong. The sight of her has my blood boiling, my dick in full attention. But I have other plans first.
I kiss her again, moving down her neck and behind her ear, feeling her shiver with anticipation. I kiss her nipple through the red lace, one and then the other before unhooking the bra and slipping it off her. My hand cups her breast, my tongue playing with her nipple as rakes her fingers along my back. I move to the other nipple, sucking on it while my other hand moves lower to cup her pussy.
“You’re so wet,” I murmur, moving down her belly, kissing the skin before me until she’s quivering with excitement. I pull down her thong, taking my time. Off one leg and then the other before tossing it to the side. I kiss the inside of one knee and then the other, hearing her sigh contentedly as I do the same along the inside of her thighs. A kiss here and a kiss there until I reach between her legs and kiss her gently there.
“Sawyer,” she breathes as I swipe my tongue at her center. I lick and suck her clit, watching her chest rise and fall as she fists the sheets, her moans growing louder. I slip a finger, slowly curling it around and Alma’s body trembles. I press harder with my tongue as Alma arches her back, repeating my name over and over again as she comes.
Alma looks dazed when I crawl over her and kiss her, my tongue raking across the roof of my mouth as she moans. I want to own all of her, claim her body and soul, and if I could, I want even more. She opens her eyes when I pull away.
“I love you,” Alma whispers as I slide inside her, doing my best to slow down. I want to savor this moment, drown in her eyes as I make love to her. A connection. A lifeline. My harbor. Hazel eyes I could get lost in every day for the rest of my life. She’s my haven in the storm of the nightmares that still come when she’s not with me, the one woman who makes me whole.
I push deeper, slowly at first and then picking up the pace as she closes her eyes, gasping and moaning with each thrust. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her scent. Vanilla and oranges and a scent that’s just her. My sweet, smart, sexy Alma.
My everything.
My world.
My life.
Alma cries out my name as she comes, a throaty sound that feels like a kick to my stomach as I ride her in and out, not wanting to stop. Can’t stop. I feel her milk my cock as I let it all go, my release so close even when I want more, so much more. I want to stay in her arms forever. It’s where I belong from the moment I saw her again that day.
“I fucking love you, Al,” I groan as I slam against her, her pussy fluttering around me, milking me. Stars burst behind my eyes, my entire body pulled taut as I come hard. I can’t speak. It’s as if every ounce of breath is pulled from my lungs as my body shudders its release, my surrender.
I rest my forehead on her shoulder as I catch my breath. Man, that was intense.
“I should leave more often,” she whispers a few moments later.
“Yeah, right,” I mutter as I playfully nibble on her neck. “Maybe not for a few months, I hope.”
Alma thinks for a few moments. “Probably not. But I like this part, though. Who knew?”
I roll onto my side and pull her to me, her back warm against my chest. “Who knew I’d miss you like the sky would miss the sun if it were gone?”
Alma turns her head to look at me. “Since when did you become a poet, Sawyer Villier?”
I kiss her shoulder. “Since I couldn’t bear lying in this bed all night without you next to me. Is that how you feel, too, whenever I’m gone?”
Alma rolls over to face me. “You know it is. That’s why the kids sleep with me whenever you leave for your assignments.”
“Would you rather I don’t do them anymore?”
She frowns. “Not if you love doing them. You get to fly to amazing places.”
I chuckle. “Amazing, yes, but I’m usually working so it’s not like I enjoy them. But I did them because it meant more money.”
Alma traces my cheekbone. “But we have enough money. Don’t we? From the rentals, the workshops you and Todd do whenever you build another one–”
“Your blog,” I add. “And now your books.”
She nods. “We’re more than comfortable, Sawyer. At least, I think we are.”
“I know we are.” We are comfortable, always have been. We live a simple life off the grid where we grow our own vegetables inside our home while still being connected to the world outside through solar and power and where our kids get to play with their best friends nearby. A simple yet perfect life… for us. What more could I want?
“I’ll talk to Fred this week,” I murmur as I pull Alma to me. For now, all I want to do is hold her… and maybe take a nap.
“We need to get ready for the lunch before we both fall asleep,” Alma says, as if reading my mind. “But first, I need to take a shower. Want to join me?”
I groan. “Do I have to?”
“Unless you want everyone to know we’ve just had sex, yes, we do,” Alma says, laughing as she extricates herself from my arms.
“It is Valentine’s Day, and you have been gone five days,” I say. “Like they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“–and my husband even hornier than he already is…not that I’m complaining or anything but we have to pick up the kids eventually,” Alma says, laughing as she pulls my arm. “So come on, sleepyhead, let’s go hop in the shower and be social. And don’t worry, there’ll be an encore tonight.”
3
Caitlin
“You’re nervous.”
Campbell Murphy turns to look at me as he lowers his hand to his lap. Outside the windows, the landscape of northern New Mexico sweep past us, miles and miles of sagebrush against a backdrop of snow-capped mountains. “What makes you say that?”
“You only chew your cuticles when you’re nervous.”
He glances at his hand. “I have no cuticles to chew.”
I laugh, taking his hand and looking at his nails that have been chewed to the quick. “That’s because you chewed them all ever since Mr. Drexel called to make sure we were on our way to his house for lunch. You’re nervous.”
“No, I’m not. And it’s not like he just invited us, Cait. Jory and Addy are going, too.” Campbell cocks his head toward the front of the Range Rover where my older brother Jordan O’Halloran is driving and next to him, my sister-in-law Addison Rowe is, as always, glued to her iPad. She’s usually working on stuff that involves her medical clinic although this time, she’s going through vacation photos on her iPad. It’s the longest they’ve been away from their three-year-old daughter but I think they’re man
aging well, no longer obsessing over what Piper is doing every hour of the day as both sets of grandparents take turns in spoiling her rotten. Ah, but this is different, I almost want to tell Campbell. While Harlow invited us a week ago, Daniel’s invitation came weeks earlier. Mr. Drexel invited us to have lunch with him, Campbell had told me. He saw the brochures for the resort packages on my desk and invited us for lunch before we head to Taos Ski Valley since his house on the way.
I’m game if you are.
Of course, Campbell said, frowning. You don’t say no to your boss.
You don’t want to go? I asked.
I do. I just feel… I don’t know. I’m a new hire at his firm and here he is inviting me over to his house, Campbell said. He’s invited none of the analysts before. Ever.
Maybe because none of his other analysts were visiting the area. You’re also best friends with the husband of his daughter-in-law’s best friend. I mean, six degrees of separation, right?
He doesn’t know that, Campbell said.
Maybe he does.
“I hope you brought an appetite, man,” Jordan says as he glances at us from the rearview mirror. “The food at the Drexels is authentic New Mexican and the best I’ve ever had.”
“You brought some with you the last time you guys visited,” Campbell says. “I loved it.”
“Nana makes the best New Mexican dishes,” Addison says as she switches off her iPad and tucks it inside her purse. “I’ve been taking notes from the moment I first tasted my first sopaipilla.”
Campbell laughs. “Cait picked up a cookbook and she’s going to make a few of the dishes we liked. That’s why we’ve packed jars of Hatch green chile with us. We’re also taking some ristras home.”
Ristras are what New Mexicans call the string of dried Hatch chile pods we’ve been seeing around New Mexico. Hung around doorways, they’re believed to bring good health and good luck.
“It might not fit our apartment, Cam,” I tease but he only shoots me a look. “But we’ll make it happen.”
Who knew my gorgeous Irish-American fiancé would fall head over heels in love with Hatch green chile and want it on everything? Campbell even requested it as a topping over his fried eggs yesterday and checked that it would be available at our hotel where we’re staying at Taos Ski Valley.
I’m glad he put in for this vacation way ahead of time because we sure needed it. With his work schedule and mine as a microbiologist commuting every day to New Jersey, our lives have been busier than I ever expected. Sure, I’m now working full time instead of studying full time, but the commute is exhausting and lately I’ve been wondering how on earth I’ll find the time to raise a family after Campbell and I get married in two months.
I’m 29-years-old and I want to have kids before I’m too old to have them. And for all my pronouncements in the past about wanting to work and make a difference in my field, I like the idea of staying home to raise a family the way my mother did while my father worked full time. Somehow they made it work and I’m sure Campbell and I can do the same.
So why did I spend all that time earning my Masters in Molecular Biology if in the end, I want to have kids and be home to raise them?
“You’re thinking too much I can see fumes coming out of your ears,” Campbell teases as he squeezes my hand. “Everything okay?”
“Of course.” As he brings my hand to his lips, I force myself to focus on the present moment. We’re on vacation and even though we’ve been going from one place to another following Addison’s crazy-busy itinerary, we’ve had a lot of fun. Hectic, yes, but fun from visiting White Sands National Monument in Alamogordo, riding a hot-air balloon over Albuquerque during the annual balloon rally to browsing the art studios in Santa Fe and afterward, relaxing at a hot spring resort just outside the city. I’ve lost count of the many other things we’ve seen and done, but I’m not complaining. It’s just what Campbell and I need to decompress from our hectic life in New York. And boy, has it been hectic with him working long hours as his company begins its expansion to other countries.
We arrive at the Drexel family home ten minutes later. As Jordan parks the Range Rover in the driveway, I can’t help but stare at the expansive home before us.
“Wow. Talk about spacious,” Campbell says. “How many bedrooms?”
“Six bedrooms and six bathrooms,” Addison replies. “Two wings, each one with a master bedroom with one of them having its own living area and kitchenette. And there’s also a casita in the back where I think Daniel does most of his work when he’s here. It’s a fully furnished one-bedroom, from what Harlow tells me.”
“No wonder he flies back home as much as he can. I’d probably end up doing the same,” Campbell says as he reaches for my hand and pulls me to him.
Jordan reaches for two bottles of wine we picked up in Santa Fe from the back of the Range Rover. “Well, shouldn’t we ring the doorbell or something?”
Before any of us can take a step forward, the front door bursts open and three children, two with dark wavy hair and the other with blond ringlets run outside to meet us. My heart skips a beat. Their exuberance is infectious and as the adults follow right behind them, Daniel looking laid-back in a heather gray sweater and jeans, the joy in the air is unmistakable. It reminds me of my parents’ home where Jordan and I grew up and for a time, Campbell did, too.
“You finally made it!” Daniel says as he walks toward us, his arms outstretched. “Come in! Come in! Mi casa es su casa.”
Lunch is already set up when we walk in, the aroma of green chile filling the air. The long table overlooking the back garden and the snowcapped mountains is laden with dishes served in colorful serving platters and there’s even a smaller table to the side just for the kids. There are no serving dishes on the kids’ table, but there are smaller versions of place settings already set up.
I’ve already met Daniel so there’s no need for introductions. Same goes for Dax and Harlow together with their twins DJ and Ani-Pea whom I met during Jordan and Addison’s wedding last year. There are two other couples and two men I’ve never met before and an older woman with a kind smile.
Daniel begins the introductions. “This is Anita, my mother-in-law–”
“Call me Nana,” she says, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Campbell. Daniel speaks highly of you.” She turns to face me. “And you are the microbiologist, si? Harlow has mentioned you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
“Of course. And I hope you two made room for lunch,” she continues. “You like New Mexican food?”
“Like?” Campbell laughs. “We love it.”
Daniel continues the introductions as a tall man with dark wavy hair comes forward to shake our hands. “Campbell, Caitlin, this is Gabe Vasquez. He runs a community clinic in town.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“And this is Todd Villier, brother of Sawyer over there who’s married to Alma.” Daniel cocks his head toward the couple standing a few feet away talking to Jordan and Addison. “He and Sawyer build sustainable homes off the grid.”
“Nice to meet you, guys.” Todd shakes Campbell’s hand and then mine. “My brother and I helped Dax build the Pearl. Ever been there?”
Campbell shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.”
“Drop by after you’re done skiing. We’d love to give you a tour,” Dax says, stepping aside as Sawyer and Alma step toward us, an adorable toddler perched on her hip.
“This is my brother Sawyer and his wife Alma,” Todd says.
“So happy to meet you. This is my daughter Drea,” Alma says as her daughter wraps her arms around her mother’s neck and buries her face in her shoulder. “She’s shy.”
“Or tired,” laughs Sawyer. “She’s been trying to chase her older brother for the past hour or so.”
“She’s so beautiful! How old is she?” I ask, my chest tightening at the thought of holding my own daughter one day.
“Th
ank you. She’s thirteen months,” Alma replies as Sawyer waves toward a blond boy running around the coffee table chasing Ani-Pea and DJ. “And that’s Tyler over there. He’s four and is constantly on the go.”
“He sure is,” Sawyer says as he snags Tyler who just runs past us. “Slow down, buddy.”
A tall bearded man with intense dark eyes approaches us. Tattoos peek from under the collar of his shirt and down his forearms. On one side of him is a dark-haired woman with a baby asleep against her chest in a baby wrap, and on his other side, a teenager with shoulder-length straight hair.
“Benny Turner,” he says as Campbell shakes his hand first. “And this is my fiancé Sarah Drexel.” He turns to the teenager with shoulder-length straight hair standing on his opposite side. “Our son Dyami.”
“And this is Atsa,” Sarah says, kissing the top of the baby’s head. “He can sleep through a storm.”
I fight the urge to touch his thick dark hair peeking from Sarah’s baby wrap. “How old is he?”
Sarah beams. “He’s five months.”
With all the introductions, it’s a miracle I can remember everyone’s names but I do. There is nothing ordinary with the Drexel family and I take note of the details to remember each one. Gabe, the doctor. Todd, the builder together with his brother Sawyer who’s built like a tank. They remind me of my family during our dinners, especially when Addison’s parents join in, and everyone is just relaxed, loud and fun. The only difference between our families is that there are two women helping in the kitchen, serving and doing the cleanup.
“If we didn’t have them, you’d never see Nana sit down,” Dax tells me when he catches me watching them. “Dad has made it a rule around the house she take it easy.”
“Not that she listens. The moment Dad leaves for New York, she’s busy as ever,” Sarah says when she joins us at the table after setting Atsa down for his nap in a cot set behind her and Benny. With all the noise, I’m amazed he’s fast asleep.
The moment everyone takes their seats–even the kids—Daniel clears his throat. “Thank you so much for joining my family and me today. I know it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m sure you have plans, but I am grateful that you made time to be here,” he begins. “When my wife was alive, I always made it a point to spend Valentine’s Day with her no matter how busy I was. I would move heaven and earth to be here with her every year, rain, shine, sleet or snow.”
