Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  She smells like the beach, and it’s easy to get lost in the feel of her body, the taste of her mouth. Almost instinctively, my already rock-hard shaft pushes against her gently rounded belly.

  Hungry to feel the silk of her skin, I slip my hand from her lower back down the waistband of her shorts to cover one smooth, pliable asscheek. My turn to groan as her tongue tangles with mine.

  I start walking her back toward the couch, but before we get there her nails dig into my neck, and she rips her mouth from mine.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Making out.” My mouth immediately aims to recapture hers but she turns her head away. I note her hands are still hanging onto me.

  “I start at four.”

  “Two hours is enough for starters,” I counter, guessing at the time.

  “Jude…” she moans when I squeeze the globe of her lush behind. “I need to shower and change.”

  “I can work with an hour and a half.”

  With her head still turned, I have no choice but to drag my lips from her cheek to her strong jawline. She lifts her chin, inviting me to slide my mouth down the slim column of her neck. I latch onto the soft skin where it meets her shoulder and start moving her backward again.

  When we reach the couch, I set both my hands on her hips, twist us around, and land on my back, Mika draped on top of me.

  “What are we doing here?” she asks again, her chin propped up on her folded hands on my chest and her eyes inquisitive.

  I slide my hands under her shirt, finding the soft skin of her back. “Exploring.” It’s the only way I know how to answer her.

  “Me or us?”

  I grin at her. “Both, since one leads to the other. Although I already can pretty much guarantee we’re about as compatible as you can get. Fuck, Mika, just about everything about you turns me on. There’s no denying this chemistry, so don’t even try.”

  A little self-satisfied smile tilts the corners of her mouth up as she lowers her eyes. “Sure of yourself.”

  I pull a hand from her shirt and bring it up to cup her face, my thumb under her chin to lift it. “When it comes to this I am. I may not understand why, but this thing between you and me has been leading to this point from the start.”

  “Yeah,” she agrees mumbling, as she presses her face to the hollow of my neck.

  My hand tangles in her hair and I let myself enjoy the weight of her on top of me. I’d love nothing more than to strip her naked, and bury myself so deep I can’t tell where I end and she begins, yet somehow lying with her like this—our clothes on but emotionally exposed—feels much more intimate.

  My fingers draw mindless circles on her scalp, and every now and then she almost purrs like a kitten. Sounds that make it hard to ignore my body’s response to her.

  “Don’t stop,” she says, when I pull my hand from her hair.

  “Self-preservation, baby. Much more of those little mewls of yours, and I’m afraid I’ll be fucking you on this couch, and I won’t care anyone can see in the window.”

  She chuckles softly before lifting her face just inches from mine. “There’s always the bedroom.” This time it’s me making the pathetic little sounds as she tortures me with the heat her eyes. “I left the blinds closed this morning.”

  A man can only take so much before he acts.

  She giggles when I roll us off the couch and onto our feet, and carry-walk her into the open door of her bedroom and straight to her bed. I let go only to rip my shirt over my head and undo the button on my jeans. Without hesitation, Mika does the same, revealing a simple white bra cupping her breasts and I instinctively reach out, lift them, and bury my face in the resulting cleavage. Not ample, but more than enough to fill my hands and senses.

  “You’re beautiful,” I mumble against her skin and I can feel her laugh.

  “How can you tell, you haven’t even seen me yet,” she teases.

  This is a new experience for me, this playfulness in the bedroom. A light atmosphere in which insecurities that come with getting naked with someone for the first time have no place.

  “I’m going to rectify that now,” I warn her, lifting my face and slipping my hands around her back to undo the clasp on her bra.

  Her eyes are a mesmerizing combination of humor and heat, and I can’t break away from them, even as I slowly expose those glorious breasts. Our eyes stay locked, while our hands bump, suddenly in a hurry to divest ourselves of the remainder of our clothes.

  It’s not until she sits down on the edge of the bed and scoots back onto the mattress that I break the hold of her gaze to take in the rest of her body. All creamy skin and lush curves. Her breasts full with deep pink aureoles pinched tight into firm peaks. A hit of ribs leading down to a softly rounded belly, criss-crossed with thin white lines in memory of the child she carried there. Wide, sturdy hips framing a darker blonde thatch of hair before stretching into a pair of solid but shapely legs.

  “You’re beautiful,” I repeat my earlier words. This time she doesn’t laugh, but her smile is lazy and warm as she lets her own eyes take me in.

  Taking my engorged cock in hand, I squeeze lightly just under the crown in an effort to slow myself down before putting a knee in the bed. She lets her legs drop open, making room for me there and revealing her slick, deep rose pussy. My nostrils flare, taking in the warm scent of her arousal. The urge to slide myself inside that heat almost overwhelming.

  “Fuck,” I grind out between clenched teeth with the sudden realization I came unprepared.

  MIKA

  My God he’s gorgeous.

  Real.

  Wide shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair lightly covering a well-shaped chest, and narrowing into a straight line down his stomach to the thick, almost purple, shaft jutting from the dark nest of curls between two solid, strong thighs. No countable abs, no bulging muscles, but with a body as real as my own—except all man.

  “Come here,” I whisper when he curses softly, eager to get my hands on him.

  He lifts his eyes and I see the regret. “I don’t have anything. No condom.”

  I let my hand slide down my stomach and run my finger along the thin line bisecting me hip to hip. His eyes follow hungrily.

  “Hysterectomy.” His gaze flies up to mine, and I swear I see a hint of pain there before heat takes over. “And I’m clean. It’s…it’s been a while,” I confess.

  “Same,” he rumbles. “But are you sure?”

  “Come here.”

  His eyes flutter closed as he takes in a deep breath, before climbing over me and slowly lowering his hips between my legs.

  “I’m going to need hours to explore every inch of you.”

  “Next time,” I assure him, tilting my hips.

  “Promise?” The sudden insecurity in his voice tears at me, and I lift my hand to his jaw.

  “Cross my heart,” I whisper, my lips a breath away from his.

  As he takes my mouth in a bruising kiss, I feel the broad crown of his cock probing at my entrance, and I pull my legs up higher. The stretch feels decadent, and almost too much, as he slides himself inside until there’s no air left between his skin and mine.

  The connection much deeper than just our bodies.

  I explore his shoulders, back, and down to his ass, flexing under my hands with every surge of his hips. His head lifts and those brown eyes, dark with emotion, burn into mine, holding them even as his breath becomes ragged and his movements almost erratic. My fingers dig in and I buck up under him…reaching for my release.

  Then I’m falling, my mouth wide, eyes closing, at the involuntary contractions of my body. I’m barely cognizant of the words tumbling from Jude’s lips as he plants himself deep, jerking with his own release.

  His face buried in my neck, I wrap myself around him, waiting for our breathing to slow down. I wish I could make time stop, and stay in this moment indefinitely. I whimper when I feel him slide softly from my body and his head lifts from my neck.

  “It�
�s gonna get messy,” he warns, humor in his eyes.

  For a minute I’m confused, until I feel his cum slipping out of me. “I need a shower.”

  Then he rolls off me, chuckling softly as I scoot out of bed and into the bathroom. I’ve barely hopped under the steady stream of water when the door opens, and I see his shape through the frosted shower door. Without inhibition, he relieves himself before sliding open the door and stepping in.

  “Preserving water,” he says by way of explanation, pressing a quick kiss on my lips before sudsing himself thoroughly with my light-scented buttermilk soap. “Gonna be hard all day long with your scent on me,” he grumbles, making me smile.

  For all the obvious complications that surround us, being with Jude is comfortable, effortless, and as natural as if we’ve been together forever.

  Aside from sharing longing, appreciative glances, we manage to dry off and get dressed quickly.

  “I should go,” I remind him, stepping out on the porch, Jude following behind me and closing my door.

  “Yeah. I should probably check in to see if Kelty’s up yet.”

  His arm snakes around my middle and he tugs me close, ignoring the fact we’re in full view not only of the restaurant, but the main house as well.

  “They can see us,” I caution him, but he only pulls me closer.

  “I don’t care,” he mumbles right before his mouth closes over mine.

  My hands come up and curl around his neck, amazed how the mere touch of his tongue to mine can have the heat pooling in my lower belly, when I hear a voice calling.

  “Jude! It’s Kelty!”

  One moment I’m melting in his arms, the next I have goosebumps rising all over my body as I watch Jude jump down the steps and sprint in the direction of his house, where his father is hanging over the railing.

  No.

  15

  JUDE

  “Where is she?”

  I sound breathless, mostly because of the panicked pounding of my heart in my chest.

  “Couch,” Dad says, stepping aside to let me through. “She doesn’t look right and feels hot to the touch, Son.”

  I lean over the couch to find my daughter with her eyes closed. Her face is white, droplets of perspiration on her forehead and upper lip, which is a worrisome purplish hue. Her breathing sounds labored.

  “Dad, get a blanket and get in the back seat of my truck. We’re driving her to Tufts.”

  “Stop.”

  My head swings around at the sound of Mika’s voice. I hadn’t noticed her following me.

  “We’ve gotta go.”

  “Stop and think, please. Calling an ambulance gets medical help here faster,” she urges, taking a step closer. “You’re in no condition to drive and neither is your father. Please, think for a minute.”

  “I can’t just wait around,” I snap at her, scared out of my brain, but then she steps right up to me and puts a hand on my cheek. “Besides, the ambulance will take her to Hyannis or Falmouth, when she should be at Tufts.”

  “Call her cardiologist, he can advise over the phone, arrange for MedFlight to pick her up if necessary, but she needs medical attention now.”

  The next fifteen minutes are an anxious blur as we wait for the ambulance Mika called. I managed to get hold of Kelty’s cardiologist, who immediately put me on hold to make arrangements for MedFlight to pick her up from a predetermined landing spot along Highway 6, where the ambulance will take her.

  The ambulance crew’s assurances, they’ve been in contact with her cardiologist, make it easier to get out of their way so they can get to my daughter, but I still stand frozen when they start wheeling her out of the house.

  “Go. You may not be able to get on the flight, but you can stay with her in the ambulance,” Mika says, squeezing my arm.

  “I’ll follow ya, Son,” Dad adds, grabbing my car keys from the hook by the door, as he too urges me to follow the stretcher.

  I vaguely register Mandy come running from the restaurant, but Mika intercepts her, and I climb into the back of the ambulance and sit down where the paramedic directs me.

  “I need room to move around your daughter, so please stay in your seat.”

  I nod numbly and sit helplessly, my useless hands clutched in my lap.

  “Jude?” I look at the open door to find Mika sticking her head in. “You need to call her mother. Call Cassie.”

  Then the door is slammed shut and moments later the ambulance takes off, sirens blaring. The full gravity of the situation threatens to crush me, when I remember Mika’s instructions and pull my phone from my pocket.

  I’m about to call Cassie’s home number when a stray lucid thought has me call Mark’s cell instead.

  In as few words as possible, I explain what’s happening in logistical terms, even though I have no idea myself what is going on with my daughter. Mark, as he’s often been before, is calm and methodical, much like Mika was earlier, and promises me he’ll find a way to get Cassie to Boston.

  I lean my head back against the side of the ambulance, my fingers pressing into my eyes as I fight to keep control of my emotions.

  “Daddy?”

  My eyes shoot open at the sound of Kelty’s voice. “Right here, Princess.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says in a croaky voice as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I hoped it would go away.”

  All I can do is reach over and grab her little foot, while I press my lips together and try to smile at her blurring face.

  “I’ll see you soon, Princess. They’ll take good care of you.”

  I give my daughter a quick kiss and have to stand by and watch as they slide her into the waiting helicopter.

  Fear has a sharp, bitter taste, and it burns like acid in your veins.

  Fear is also irrational, which is why—when I see Mika behind the wheel of my approaching vehicle with Dad in the passenger seat beside her—I let loose.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I snap at her through clenched teeth.

  Registering the shocked jerk of her body, I feel instant regret, but it’s too late to call back my words. I’m not even sure why I’m lashing out at her.

  To my surprise Dad steps between us, putting a restraining hand in my chest. “Easy, Son. Mandy told huh to drive. I was shakin’ too bad.” Shame joins fear. Suddenly dizzy, I lean forward into my father’s chest, and his arms immediately wrap around me, holding me upright. “Best we get going. You good to drive, gal?”

  “I’m good.”

  Fuck. Her voice is shaky, but I can hear determination, and it occurs to me she must be scared too.

  I let my father lead me to the passenger side and climb in, remembering to buckle up. Dad climbs in the back and Mika fits herself behind the wheel. She looks too small for this truck as she fastens her seat belt as well, squares her shoulders, and starts the engine.

  “Were you able to get hold of Cassie?” she asks softly, as she pulls onto the highway.

  “Mark, her husband. He’s been a rock this past year.” My voice sounds empty, even to my own ears.

  She reaches for my hand and slips her fingers between mine, holding on tight. “That’s good, that you both had him.”

  I turn to her at the wistful tone in her voice, and realize she didn’t have that. She had an ex-husband, who fought her and vilified her before, during, and after her son’s death. She never had the kind of support Cassie and I have been blessed with, and yet here she is offering it to me.

  I squeeze her hand and she glances my way.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” is her simple reply.

  But it’s not that simple, and I know it.

  MIKA

  Most of the ride into Boston is quiet.

  I end up dropping Jude and his father off on Washington, right in front of the entrance, before I go hunting for a parking spot. When I find one, I slip the Traverse into the space and turn off the engine. Then I drop my forehead to the steering wheel and break down.


  Deep, heaving, painful sobs tear from my chest and I don’t even try holding back. I’ve been so focused on keeping my head for Jude, I haven’t given myself the chance to be scared, and I’m terrified.

  I don’t know how long I sit like that when my cell buzzes in my purse. I wipe my face with my sleeve, pull it out and see Cooker on the screen.

  “You were gonna call,” Mandy says without hello.

  “I will. I haven’t even made it inside yet. I’m just parking the car.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “I’m done,” I tell her, sniffing loudly before I change the subject. “Were you able to get someone in?”

  “We’ve got it covered here. Get your ass inside and get me an update.”

  “I will.”

  I twist the rearview mirror to check my face; glad I took the time to grab my purse, because my face is a mess. I pull a wet wipe from the travel-sized envelope and clean up as best I can. I’m still pretty blotchy when I get out of Jude’s truck.

  I click it shut, make note of the parking spot, and suddenly realize I’m kind of stuck as long as Jude is here. I’m not even sure how I will hold up inside the hospital, the fundraiser was in the lobby, and already I found it nearly unbearable.

  After receiving a few odd looks, I unclip my hair to hide my face.

  It takes me twenty minutes of wandering around before I find them in a waiting room near the pediatric ICU.

  “I was about to come lookin’ faw ya,” Jim says when he spots me.

  Jude jumps up and stalks over, pulling me roughly into his arms. “Worried maybe I chased you off.”

  I grab on his shirt in the small of his back and hold on.

  “Any word?” I ask, lifting my head from his chest to look up in his face.

  “Only that her cardiologist is with her now,” he says, sounding drained. “They moved her straight to the ICU apparently, and are running tests to find out what’s wrong. I’m hoping we’ll be able to see her soon.”