by M. S. Parker
When I took him into my mouth, he was already too large for me to have him all. My mouth worked up and down over the inches I could handle while my fist took care of the rest with firm, steady strokes that moved in time with my mouth. His hand dropped on my head, fingers twisting in my hair. The familiar little pricks of pain went through my scalp, and the heat in my belly flared. I cupped his balls in my free hand, caressing them before releasing his cock so I could move down to take other parts of him into my mouth.
“Fuck, Shae!”
His hips jerked as my fingers danced along his wet skin, my tongue busy rolling his balls before pulling them back into my mouth. I felt his body tighten, and moved back up to his cock. He was close, pre-cum beading at the tip of him, his flesh swollen and red. I wrapped my lips around the head and then took in a couple more inches. He was close.
“Babe, I'm close.” He pulled at my hair, but I didn't budge.
The hand on the base of him moved faster as I began to suck on him, hard, fast pulls that made his hips jerk and his grip on my hair tighten.
“Shae, please, I can't...”
I didn't bother with a response, only applied more suction, squeezed him tighter. And then he was coming, exploding in my mouth, across my tongue. He kept repeating my name over and over like a prayer, and I swallowed every last drop. I kept him in my mouth, licking him clean until he began to soften, and only then did I let him slide from between my lips.
He pulled me to my feet, crushing me against him as his mouth came down on mine. There was no timidity or gentleness to the kiss, only want and need. His teeth scraped against my lips, then bit down on the bottom one, worrying at it before pulling it into his mouth, soothing it with his tongue.
When he finally raised his head to look at me, my lips were throbbing and swollen, my nipples hard points pressed against his chest. His eyes met mine as he wrapped my hair around his hand, and then he was breaking our gaze, using my hair to yank my head back. Lips and teeth and tongue were hot and sharp on my throat, fueling the arousal already burning inside me. One hand slid between us to cover my breast, his fingers squeezing, palm skimming over my nipple.
“Jas,” I gasped as he bit down on the place where my neck and shoulder met. My nails dug into his upper arms until I knew I’d leave marks.
He moved us until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and then we were both falling backwards. He covered my body with his mouth still making its way across my overheated skin. My eyelids fluttered as he kissed the tops of my breasts and I wanted to push his head lower. The need for release was sharp, and I knew all of the wonderful things he could do with his tongue and fingers, but another part of me was stronger. Before I could let this go any further, I had to make sure he understood some things.
“Jasper.” I ran my fingers through his hair. When he raised his head, I cupped his chin and pushed myself up enough to brush my lips across his. “We need to talk.”
A wary look came into his eyes as he rolled off of me, and I hated that I'd put it there. He started to sit up, but I put my hand on his shoulder, pressing him back to the bed. I curled up against his side, putting my head on his chest and pulling his arm around me.
“You don't have to apologize,” he said quietly.
“Yes, I do.” I looked up at him, but his head was turned away. “Look at me, please.”
For a moment, I didn't think he'd do it, but then he moved. His eyes met mine, but they were blank, carefully masked. I pressed my lips to his chest and his fingers twitched against my arm.
“I should have trusted you.”
“It's okay,” he began to say.
“No,” I cut him off. “It wasn't. It isn't. I was wrong not to give you the benefit of the doubt.” I dropped my head so he wouldn't see my lips tremble. “Can you forgive me?”
He hooked his finger under my chin, tilting my head until my eyes met his again. The mask was gone, and all I saw was emotion so intense that it made my heart ache.
“Always.”
His arm tightened around me as a wave of relief rushed through me. Even after all that had happened in the past hour or so, a part of me had still been afraid that he wouldn't forgive me. I put my head back down on his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Can I ask what prompted the change?”
I pushed myself up on my elbow, putting my other hand on his stomach. The muscles bunched and jumped beneath my palm.
“Allen.”
His eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”
I smiled softly, but there was no sadness to it. “I had a dream about Allen. I got to tell him goodbye, and he told me what I already knew.”
“Which was?” Jasper's finger began to trace circles on my breast, the gesture almost absent-minded even as it spread heat through my body.
“That I should listen to my heart.”
“Mm-hm.” His thumb brushed over my nipple. “And what does your heart say?”
“That you never would've hurt him or me like that.” My pulse quickened under his touch, and I slid my hand further down his stomach. “And that I love you.”
His eyes jerked to mine, and I saw a cautious hope there. “You don't have to say it, Shae. I'm here even if you don't–”
“I love you, Jasper.” I pushed myself up onto my knees, and looked down at him. “I can't say when it happened, only that at some point during this whole awful mess, you went from being my friend to my lover to the man I love.”
I reached down and brushed some of his hair off of his forehead before lowering my hand to trace a finger across his lips. He was so beautiful it almost hurt.
He caught my hand and pressed it to his mouth. “You don't know how long...how many times...” His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes, the struggle written on his face.
It hadn't hit me until that moment what this must've been like for him. Not all the years he'd loved me in silence. Not him having to watch me marry Allen. I finally understood what these last few months must have been like for him. His best friend was dead, but the woman he'd loved for eight years was finally his. All this time, he'd been fighting his own guilt at having me, at being happy.
“Jas, open your eyes.” I waited until he did before I continued, “You haven't betrayed Allen. Neither of us have. You never once treated me inappropriately when Allen was alive. You didn't take advantage of me after he died. And you didn't force me to fall in love with you. It's okay to be happy.”
He stared at me for a moment, and then I felt the tension go out of him. He sat up suddenly, catching my mouth in a short, but searing kiss.
“I love you,” he breathed the words against my lips.
“And I love you.”
His hand slid down to cup my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple as he nuzzled the side of my jaw. “Does that mean I can make love to you now?”
“Nope.”
He jerked back, a startled expression on his face.
I grinned at him and pushed against his chest even as I threw one leg over him to straddle his lap. “I still have to show you just how sorry I am.”
“Shae...” His hands went to my hips automatically.
He hissed as I reached underneath me, and found him hard and ready. I used one hand on his stomach to balance me, and the other to hold him steady as I began to lower myself onto him. I gasped as he stretched me, the pressure of him filling me almost too much. I rocked back and forth, easing him inside at a torturous pace. I wanted this to last, wanted to stay joined to him as long as I could.
I rode him slowly, enjoying every inch of him as I took him into me. His hands moved from my hips to my breasts, teasing my nipples with gentle touches and sharp tugs. Each time he tried to take control, I pushed him back. My mouth and hands explored the hard planes of his chest, nails scraping his nipples, lips and teeth sucking and biting at his skin until he swore.
I pushed back my own orgasm over and over, refusing to let myself come u
ntil he did. This wasn't about me. He'd taken care of me so many times, always made sure I reached my own climax before he even thought about his. It wasn't until I felt his hips begin to jerk underneath me, his fingers grabbing onto my thighs, that I let myself go.
My leg muscles were burning as I moved, but it only added to the intensity of what was building inside me. I moved my hand to the place where our bodies joined, and began to finger my clit as I squeezed my muscles around him.
“Fuck!” He arched up off the bed, driving himself even deeper than before.
Sparks flew in front of my eyes and the hand on his stomach curled, nails digging into his flesh. His cock pulsed inside me and I felt the warmth of his seed filling me. Calling out his name, I pressed my fingers against my clit and gave in to the climax that had been waiting.
I fell forward, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly to him as we came. I pressed my face against his chest, shudders running through my body. I could hear him murmuring my name against my hair, but I was too far gone to answer. The physical and emotional toll of the past few days had taken me to the point where I was completely and utterly exhausted.
I was also content. Sure, there were still more things to deal with, but he was here, and we'd face them together.
Tomorrow.
Because tonight, I was going to sleep in the arms of the man I loved.
Chapter 6
Jasper and I spent most of Sunday in bed, alternating between making love and talking. Some of what we talked about was the sort of sweet small talk that couples make while basking in the afterglow of particularly good sex. Stories from our pasts that we hadn't shared before. Things that my second graders had done. Difficulties Jasper was having with getting the clinic up and running.
Some of what we discussed had to do with a future when all of this was over, but always done in the sort of abstract vagueness that kept it from being too serious. We loved each other, but I knew neither of us wanted to discuss anything intense today. So we stuck to the simple. Vacations it might be nice to take. Long-term plans for the vineyard and for the clinic. Some of the future plans were a bit more immediate, like the upcoming holidays.
I'd been trying hard not to think about them, but Thanksgiving was this week, and no amount of denial would stop the ads on tv or the traditional hand-turkey art projects my students would insist on showing me. What would be the hardest about it was that because of his rocky relationship with his family, Jasper had always been a part of Allen and my holidays, so having him here for Thanksgiving would almost seem like normal...until I set three places at the table instead of four. And that was only if my brother decided he was going to come. He was still being weird about Jasper. It would ultimately be Mitchell's decision though, and I was able to let it stay at that.
The one topic we avoided as long as we could was the whole legal situation. Finally, Sunday evening, as we soaked in the large tub in the master bathroom, I brought it up.
I told Jasper everything that happened at the police station, all of the questions and accusations the cops had made, as well as the lie they'd told about my fingerprints. He agreed with me that the 'anonymous tip' had most likely come from the Lockwoods or someone connected to them. Since we had no way of proving it, we just had to trust that the evidence the cops did have would prove that I'd had nothing to do with Allen's death.
The problem there was that the evidence now seemed stacked against Jasper. I knew it had to be only a matter of time before the detectives turned their attention from me to him. What we needed to do was find out where Allen's file had come from and the truth behind the email I'd found. Jasper assured me that if the cops pressed charges against him for lying to the insurance company, he was prepared to take the consequences. He was guilty of that part, after all. What he wasn't willing to do was be blamed for something he hadn't done. I didn't like the idea of him getting into any trouble, especially the kind that might take him away from me, but that was a worry for another day.
We fell asleep at some point during a follow-up conversation, and by the time I woke the next morning, Jasper was already gone. On his pillow was a scrap of paper.
Had to go to work early. See you at home tonight. Love you.
I would've spent who knew how long staring at the note, grinning like an idiot, if I hadn't remembered that I had an appointment with my lawyer before school. Principal Sanders had been fine with me coming in late, but I didn't want to drag it out any longer than I had to. Better to get things with Henley taken care of quickly, and then I could concentrate on containing the overly excited second graders who would most definitely be worked up about the upcoming activities and holiday. I'd have my hands full.
Henley was behind his desk, nursing an insanely-large cup of coffee, when I arrived. His secretary was still getting things settled at her desk, but she took the time to ask me if I wanted some coffee when it was ready.
“No, thank you.” I gave her a tight smile. I'd probably end up running through somewhere to get something before I got to school, but too much caffeine and I'd be on edge, which was the last thing I needed.
“Did you manage to get any rest at all this weekend?” Henley asked as he gestured to the chair across from him.
I nodded, my ears burning as I thought of what I'd done this weekend. I sincerely hoped he didn't notice my flushing. That was something I didn't want to explain.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his stomach. “Okay, so I was able to spend the rest of Saturday and yesterday making some calls.”
“Which I really appreciate,” I put in. “I'm so sorry you had to work on the weekend.”
Henley waved a dismissive hand. “Allen took care of it.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Say that again?”
“Oh.” Henley's face flushed with color. “Shit.” His skin went a darker shade of red. “I wasn't supposed to mention it. Sorry.”
“Don't mention it.” My head was spinning. “Let's go back to the whole Allen taking care of it thing.”
Henley gave me a partial smile. “Didn't you ever wonder why you haven't been getting any bills from me?”
My jaw dropped and he chuckled.
“I didn't think so,” Henley said. “Allen set up a separate trust for legal issues. With everything taken care of for increased rates, overtime, all of that, you'll be good for years. One stipulation was that when you needed me, I'd be there. No matter what time of day or night.”
My throat tightened. Allen was still taking care of me, even now.
“Mrs. Lockwood,” Henley began, and then hesitated.
“Go ahead.” The fact that he'd switched back to the more formal title told me it was something more serious.
“I know about the letter you gave to the police. The letter, the file, and the email.”
My stomach knotted. Yet another reason I hadn't wanted anything to drink. “I'm surprised the detectives let you see them.”
“They didn't.” Henley shifted in his chair. “The police department has a bit of a...well, a leak.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“You didn't go out at all this weekend, did you?”
I shook my head.
“Read the paper?”
I shook my head again, blushing even deeper. Jasper and I hadn't bothered with much outside of the bedroom.
“That's probably a good thing,” Henley said. “There's no easy way to say this, but the media's got ahold of the story.”
I closed my eyes. I'd thought things couldn't have gotten worse, but, apparently, I was wrong. Again.
“And they don't just know that you were arrested. They know about everything you gave to the cops too.”
I let out a string of curses that I normally wouldn't have uttered in private, let alone in front of someone else.
“What do we do?” I asked, raising my head.
“First, I need you to tell me everything. Where you found the file, the email, the letter.” He paus
ed, and then continued, “And if there's anything else you think I should know.”
I nodded and then began to explain everything, starting with the letter, and what Jasper had told me about his role in hiding Allen's illness. Henley listened, occasionally jotting things down. He never interrupted, never made any indication of what he thought about anything I said.
I didn't ask him for his opinion either. I didn't want to know what he thought about Allen's suicide, or Jasper fudging the paperwork for the insurance company. All I cared about was that he didn't think I'd killed my husband.
When I finished, I slumped back in the chair, my head pounding. It had been harder than I'd thought to explain everything.
He was quiet for a moment, writing something else on his notepad, and then he looked up at me. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” I rubbed my hand over my face. How could I be so tired this early in the morning? “That's it.”
“Okay.” He nodded and tapped the pen on his desk. “There are a couple other things we need to cover before you go.” His mouth twisted like he'd tasted something sour. “The Lockwoods have talked to some reporters.”
Shit.
I didn't curse out loud this time, but the situation certainly merited it.
“What are they saying?” I asked with a sigh.
“Aside from everything I'm sure you can imagine they're saying regarding your marriage,” he answered. “They're also saying you're trying to have them framed for arson so you can avoid the court ruling against you regarding Allen's trust.”
I didn't feel anything about the latest lies. No hurt. No anger. It seemed like I was finally beyond all of those things when it came to the Lockwoods. The realization surprised me. I'd spent so many years caring about what they thought of me that knowing I didn't care anymore was a new feeling in and of itself.
“Obviously, it's all them running their mouths,” he said. “But I have a feeling the cops are going to try to use the accusations against you.”