“Second wind.” I nuzzled my face into her naked breasts.
Kat tossed her head back.
My teeth clamped down on her nipple and I sucked it into my mouth.
“Harder,” she commanded. I alternated between biting and sucking. “God, that feels good. Yes, harder.”
In the beginning, I’d worried I might hurt her, but over the years I learned just how much pressure Kat liked applied to her nipples. More than I could imagine enjoying, but I was more than willing to appease her need.
Kat’s back was arched almost all the way back, allowing my tongue to skate over her taut stomach. How was she so flexible? She credited Pilates. My mind was soon consumed with other thoughts—fucking.
I wanted to fuck Kat. Make her come alive. Feel alive myself.
Her head snapped up and her dark eyes penetrated my soul. “Take me there. The place for just you and me. Take me there now.” She guided my lips to hers.
“There” had become our code word. Kat had muttered it the first time we made love after the accident. She didn’t have to explain for me to understand—the act took her away from the pain, the memories, and the guilt.
Kat fisted my hair, her excitement escalating tenfold by the second. She ripped my shirt off.
I tossed her onto her back and disposed of her panties in the blink of an eye. Mine disappeared, too, and I separated her thighs with a hip and let her grind against me. She was wet. So fucking wet.
I wanted to take her there, but I didn’t want to rush things. Well, not too much. My hands and tongue explored her body. Each touch felt as if the sexual current zinging through her body also pulsed through mine.
Her pelvic thrusting took on more urgency, and I moved up to stake my claim on her mouth. Her tongue met mine with an all-consuming hunger. To ease her desire, I gyrated against her hot zone, making her moan. It made me kiss her even harder. More passionately. Desperate to connect on a level that was only reserved for us. No one but Kat ever made me feel this good, and Kat often told me I was the only one who could connect with her in this way.
Fucking wasn’t just sexual, nor physical. It was the only way I could show my wife just how much I loved her, no matter what. It was the surefire way to communicate that my life would be nothing if she were gone.
Kat pulled away and sank her head into a pillow. I could tell she was close to explosion.
My mouth made the beautiful trek down. I raked her hair with my teeth, gently pulling. She smelled absolutely wonderful. Kat’s juices were like no scent I’d ever experienced before. It got me from zero to sixty in seconds.
I smothered my face in her slick, warm pussy, grinning as she let out a satisfied yelp. Licking her lips, I parted them with a finger, and entered. Kat’s hands clenched the sheet. From my vantage point, I marveled over her wondrous breasts heaving up and down.
When I inserted three fingers, Kat’s knuckles went white where she clutched the fabric. The first stroke of my tongue on her clit made her right leg kick. The second elicited another moan, even more primal.
She didn’t want to be teased anymore. She wanted it.
My fingers hammered deep inside her as my tongue concentrated on the sweet spot. My mouth swam with the taste of her slickness, and I greedily consumed the goodness.
Her back arched further as I dove in deep, tripling the efforts of my mouth. Hands cradling my head, Kat jolted upright. I could no longer see her face, but if history was any indication, her head was lolling back, her mouth open ready to belt out a primitive scream that would heal both of our souls.
Four more brushes of my tongue and another lunge inside brought her there. I stilled my mouth.
“No, don’t stop!”
Her wish was my command. If I could spend every waking moment between her legs, I would. Right then, she was the only thing that mattered in my life.
Kat’s entire body convulsed and another holler left her luscious lips.
After the fourth cry, she collapsed onto the bed. It was then I realized every fiber of my body was exhausted, but it still thrummed with desire.
“That was amazing,” Kat said, her arm draped over the lower half of her face. Clearly she was too spent to adjust to a more comfortable repose.
“You are amazing.” I slithered up her body to lie on top of her, hearing her breath coming sharp, like she’d just finished a marathon.
She tapped my head. “Don’t even think about falling asleep.”
“What?” I asked, groggy.
“It’s your turn.”
Before I could respond, she tossed me onto my back and sprawled over me to yank out the sex treasure chest from under the bed.
“Goodness. I’m not a machine.” Despite my protestations, I couldn’t quash the shit-eating grin from my face.
“True.” She sat up. “But this is.” She flipped on the seven-inch purple vibrator she lovingly called, “My darling Clementine.” She never explained, but I was certain the name had something to do with the mining song.
“You aren’t messing around tonight.” I swept loose strands of hair off her cheek and leaned in for a kiss.
My wife repositioned on the bed, legs over the edge, feet dangling. “Sit on my lap.”
I did, hearing the steady, dull hum as Kat restarted the beast and brushed the tip against my swollen bud. I nearly shot off her lap onto the ceiling. “Easy,” I said.
She grinned and then kissed me, one hand holding my face in place while Clementine, on the lowest speed, entered me below. Lately, Kat loved to smooch while I came. She said it was the closest way she could connect with my heart and soul from the inside.
My fingers fisted her dark hair as she pushed Clementine in and out of me. I’d been rearing to go from fucking Kat before we even started. Now, sitting in her lap with Clementine penetrating full blast deep inside of me and my wife kissing me with unreserved passion, it didn’t take long. My legs, wrapped around Kat’s waist, began to quiver.
Sensing it would be only a matter of seconds, Kat drew her lips away and stared deeply into my eyes. “Come for me. Oh God, come for me.” She cradled my cheek with a hand.
My eyes started to close, and a rocket flashed behind my lids. A jolt of electricity pinged to all of my nerve endings. Kat held me close as the tremor built throughout my body. And finally, when the tempest cleared, Kat pulled me down on top of her, rubbing my back.
“I love it when you come like that.”
“Like what?” I rested my head on her breasts and peered up into her lovely, dark eyes.
“Like a tidal wave of bliss is slamming every fiber of your being. It hits you so hard I swear it brings me one step closer to you.”
“A tidal wave of bliss…” I left the rest unsaid.
“Don’t mock me, especially not now. I want to feel the thrum of your heartbeat with mine.”
I closed my eyes, and we both drifted off to sleep. An hour later, Kat stirred under me. I scooted to the side and wrapped her in my arms. She didn’t wake, whispering our baby’s name over and over in her sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when my eyelids flung open for the day. There was no use fighting my brain’s urge to be awake. Kat rolled onto her side, clasping a pillow in her arms. I sat on the side of the bed and stroked her back, watching as a slight smile appeared on her lips even though she was still sound asleep.
I leaned down, kissed her cheek, and wandered to the bathroom to change into running gear.
By the time I ventured outside, my phone read 6:45 and twenty-three degrees. I fired up iTunes after completing a minimal amount of stretches to avoid injury. My thermal running pants and jacket didn’t do much to combat the cold; only movement would keep blood circulating to warm me. I activated the Runmeter GPS app on my phone and took a few stutter steps to test my footing. Not too icy. We hadn’t experienced a blizzard yet this winter, but I’d already determined I’d run in it, n
ot to miss the opportunity.
The path along the water’s edge was mostly clear of snow, but from past experience it was wise to stay vigilant. One slick patch of ice could ruin the day.
Only a handful of joggers braved Chestnut Hill Reservoir on such a frigid Saturday morning. I recognized two of them and acknowledged them with a nod when they cruised by, grateful that neither ever stopped to chat. I’d been running here for years now, but I still managed to keep most regulars at bay. Not that any of them were dying to become buds. Running was a solitary exercise—something to be cherished and honored. Occasionally, I encountered a different breed of runner: the ones who chatted the whole time, clogging the trail with their perfume.
A layer of fog hung low to the ground, making it nearly impossible to see the houses across the water on Beacon Street. The only one I could make out was the simple pale yellow colonial that always appealed to me for some reason. It was the type of house a child would draw: rectangular with an equal number of windows on either side of the door.
I shook my arms, rolled my neck, and took off. Each step elicited an intrusive crunching sound as my shoe pulverized frozen mud. I grimaced at the sacrilege of breaking the silence of such a beautiful morning in an eerily horror-like way.
By my second lap around the water, roughly a mile and a half loop, the fog was burning off and a reddish-gold sun hung over the eastern horizon, painting the remaining patches of cloud with vibrant colors that’d make most hearts sing. Even mine felt a momentary blip on the “I’m alive!” meter.
Three laps around the water were all my sleep-deprived body could handle. According to the running app, this was my slowest run of the week, maybe ever, with twelve-minute miles.
I sighed and mopped my brow with my sleeve. The fifteen-minute walk back to the house would provide a decent amount of time to cool off.
When I got back, Kat, dressed in a short turquoise cotton-knit robe, was camped in front of the coffeemaker with a mug. Her hair was disheveled and when her eyes landed on me, she gave a sleepy nod.
“Why are you up so early?” I extracted a water bottle from the fridge and downed a third of it.
“Breakfast with Harold.” Kat’s eyes were puffy and red.
“Why so early?” I leaned against the far counter, arms crossed.
She didn’t answer, but the disappointed look in her eye was enough of a reminder.
“That’s right. Amber left.” I swigged more water.
Kat reached for the coffee pot. “You want some?”
“Please. I’m starting to cool off.” I peeled my wet shirt away from my stomach.
Her eyes softened. “Change out of your sweaty clothes. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“No need to cook for one. I can have cereal.” I tried to sound like that wasn’t the worst possible scenario on a Saturday.
“Don’t waffles sound better?”
“Tons better than soggy Cheerios.” I kissed her cheek, careful not to brush my stinky body against her.
“Scram!” She swatted my bum.
By the time I toweled off, I could smell Belgian waffles and veggie sausage cooking.
Kat was pouring a second cup of coffee for herself. The table was set for two.
“You eating with me?” I asked.
“Fruit. For some reason, I’m exhausted today. Need some natural energy.” She winked at me.
“Blame Clementine.” I slipped into my seat and dished cut oranges and bananas into a bowl.
“I noticed your ginger gait to the bathroom.” Kat placed a steaming cup of joe by a glass of soy milk. She was obsessed with my calcium intake recently. “How was your run?”
“Not enjoyable. It’s nearly snot-freezing weather.”
“And you do love to shoot snot rockets when you run.”
“It’s not that I enjoy it. I have to most days or I can’t breathe. It’s not my fault you can’t do it without it smearing all over your face.”
She crinkled her nose. “Another reason not to run.”
“One day you’ll come around.”
“I’ll stick to the elliptical at the gym. Much more civilized.” She rested both elbows on the table.
“Civilized? I’ve gone to the gym with you. All the dudes turn into Neanderthals with their tongues lolling to the side, drooling. Maybe you should wear more than a sports bra and shorts.” I scowled. “You prefer that over seeing me shoot a snot rocket?”
“They aren’t that bad. Just last week one spotted me on the bench press and helped with the weights.”
I laughed. “I’m sure he did. It was probably the highlight of his week.”
“Do I detect jealousy?” Kat held her mug under her nose with both hands as if inhaling caffeine fumes would energize her.
“Not in the least. It seems we’re the only couple out of our friends who’s rock solid.”
It was true and odd, considering.
Kat sat quietly as I munched on waffles and sausage. “What are we going to do about Sam and Lucy?”
I swallowed a bite of waffle. “Uh, what can we do?”
“What’s the issue, you think?”
“Boredom. Too many jigsaw puzzles.”
Kat was pensive, not the reaction I was expecting. Maybe she was still half asleep. “I’ve noticed Lucy stepping out of her shell lately.”
“True, she has been.”
Kat tapped her nails against her coffee mug.
“What time are you meeting Harold?” I asked.
“9:30.”
“You want me to go with?”
Kat let out a bark of laughter and followed it with, “No.”
“Why not?” I shoveled in a slice of banana.
“I love you, but you can be an ass when it comes to this stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Broken hearts.”
“That’s not true. Sam comes to me when she wants to talk.”
“She’s not sensitive like most. You two are so much alike it’s freaky. And look how it turned out when Sam talked to you.”
“Hey. You can’t blame me for Sam thinking of stepping out on Lucy.”
“Did you categorically tell her not to?” Kat set her mug down.
“Of course not. I can’t tell her what she can and can’t do.”
“Why?”
“She’s a grown woman.”
“Do you agree with cheating?”
“Absolutely not. Never.” I sliced a hand through the air.
“What about Roger and Barbara?”
“I never understood. I’m starting to wonder whether Roger seeks attention because of everything he’s been through. The loss of his parents, sister, and the miscarriages. Still, it’s hard to justify.”
Kat huffed. She loved Roger, but his affairs tested her loyalty. “What if I was disabled and unable to perform?”
“Is Clementine out of batteries?” I teased.
“I’m serious.”
“Sex is one part of a relationship.”
Kat’s eyebrow formed an upside down V.
“Hold on.” I put a hand up. “It’s one of the most delightful parts of our relationship, but it’s not the most important.” I reached across the table and put my palm on her hand. “I love you, and nothing—and I mean nothing—will ever change that.”
“For better or worse?”
“For better or worse.”
“What are the disagreeable parts to our relationship?” The tension in her face was slowly melting.
“These conversations.” I pulled my hand away before she had a chance to slap it.
“Such a wisenheimer.” She waggled a finger.
“Don’t shake that at me.”
“What do you want me to do with it?” Her voice oozed sex appeal.
“Is that a trick question, considering our conversation?”
“Ha! Maybe you aren’t just a dumb jock after all.”
“Wh
ew!” I wiped imaginary sweat off my brow. “Saved this time.” I sipped my juice. “How bad is it with Harold?”
She tucked a dark lock behind an ear. “What do you mean?”
“Will he recover?”
“Does anyone ever really get over their first love?”
“I’m not pining away after Vanessa,” I defended.
“You were fifteen, and you two dated for what, three months?”
“More like seven. And she took my virginity.”
She rolled her eyes. “This is different. You’ve been with other girls since Vanessa. Harold didn’t fall in love and pop his cherry until his late twenties. This won’t be easy. Besides, you might not be pining after Vanessa, but I’m willing to bet the hurt still resides deep inside, not that you’d ever admit it.”
I sucked in some air, not wanting to venture down the slippery slope. Just the other night, Vanessa had been in one of my sex dreams, and not for the first time.
To deflect, I stood and carried my dishes to the sink. Kat followed with the fruit bowl, which she promptly covered with Saran wrap and placed in the fridge. I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.
“I’m going to shower. Want to hop in again?” She wrapped one hand across my breasts, cupping my pussy with the other.
“Is this another test?”
“Absolutely.”
“Yes, I want to hop in.” I peered over my shoulder. “Did I pass?”
She patted my crotch. “What do you think?”
“Easy. Clementine, remember?”
“I’ll be gentle.” She led me by the hand to the bathroom.
***
Around two in the afternoon, Kat still wasn’t home. Not overly surprised, I decided to lie down on the couch, hoping to catch an hour or two of Zs.
Right when I started to drift into la-la land, my phone buzzed. A text from Sam. I groaned, shook my fist at the ceiling, and then read: Help! We’re working on the jigsaw again. She won’t consider doing anything else. Come over now before I lose my mind.
My gut reaction was to ignore the text, but then I remembered Kat chiding me this morning that I hadn’t done enough to steer Sam through her relationship crisis.
Confessions From the Dark Page 15