by L. B. Dunbar
“Britton, what are you doing?” I moaned softly behind her ear. She leaned her back against my chest and I moved so the back of her head rested on my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I don’t know. My body wants something that my mind can’t stop.”
I kissed her exposed neck and heard her hiss as she pushed her ass back with force. This was intentional. I sprang to life below and I tightened my hold on her hip.
“You’re confusing me,” I said against her neck as I peppered it with kisses. “You sound like you want me to go, but you’re acting like you want me to stay.”
“I don’t know what I want,” she said, and she brushed from side to side against my front. Her eyes were closed and I continued to kiss her neck.
“I think you’re afraid to give in,” I said seductively.
This stopped her. Her head snapped forward.
“I am afraid, Gavin. Afraid that this is a rebound reaction for you. You just broke up with someone less than a week ago. And I’m afraid if I give in to you, I’ll never recover again. It took a long time to get over you before.”
I gently spun her to face me and this pressed my large erection into her stomach.
“I know you can feel me against you. And this isn’t because of someone else or some rebound. This is because I want you. Plain and simple. That’s all I have as truth right now. You. You drive me crazy with desire and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you on the beach last week.” I leaned forward to kiss her, but a voice stopped me.
“What are you two doing in here?” Gee asked softly.
“Dammit,” Britton mumbled as I stepped straight back. I couldn’t turn around and look at the child yet; not like this. I put my hands in my pockets again to adjust myself.
“I’m getting us drinks, lovie. What do you want?”
The only thing I thirsted for was her, and I silently cursed that the moment was over before it began.
We watched a kid’s movie while we ate the pizza, and I played checkers with Gee when the show was over. Britton told Gee it was time for a bath and bed after that, and I waited with Ben watching Detroit play baseball on television. When Gee was clean and dressed in his summer pajamas covered with baseballs and bats on them, he came out to Ben and I to say goodnight. He smelled so fresh and clean, and I inhaled him deeply when he asked for a goodnight hug. Gee hugged Ben also and went to his room, but Britton returned several minutes later.
“He’d like you to read him a bedtime story?”
Ben and I both turned to look at her over the back of the couch, but Britton was studying me, questions clearly in her eyes.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t think she wanted me to do it, but I didn’t want to say no.
“What do you think?”
She bit her lip and shrugged a shoulder against the wall she was leaning on.
“Okay,” she said softly, then turned to walk back down the hall.
I followed and again was aware that this had been Leo and Gertie’s room years ago. The soft night-light glowed warmly against the light denim wall and I sat on Gee’s small bed next to him admiring the fish motif on the walls. I looked over my shoulder at Britton. She still looked hesitant.
“Hey, little man. Why don’t we let your mom read the story and we both listen, okay?”
“Okay,” Gee said agreeably. I moved over so Britton could sit in front of me and I felt her hips against my thighs. It was inappropriate to think of what started earlier in the kitchen, but I was happy to have the physical contact again. She leaned back slightly and I placed my arm behind her to brace her as she started the book.
I wasn’t listening. I was taking in the atmosphere. A freshly scrubbed child in his twin bed, blankets pulled up over his legs. A woman’s tender voice reading to the boy as she leaned against me. The room was dimly lit, and it felt cozy and homey. I felt the pang in my chest again of things left behind, or things never had, or things missed.
The story ended quickly and Britton leaned forward to kiss Gee on the nose.
“I love you,” she whispered to him.
“Love you, too, Mommy,” he said. “Love you, too, Gavin.”
I heard Britton suck in a breath. I, on the other hand, let one out. I was shocked. Astonished, a pang shot through me like a sharp stab. It wasn’t painful, but it was deep. I was thrilled to have this child love me.
Britton stood up mechanically and turned off the light. She walked out the door, giving me no direction. I followed after her, afraid to speak. When we entered the living room, Ben was still watching the game with his phone in his hand, texting.
“Hey, Britton, can I go down to Josh’s? His mom’s home and he’s just watching the game.”
She only nodded, and Ben jumped from the couch.
“Later. Thanks for the pizza, Gavin. See ya.” Ben was out the door with a gentle click.
I looked at Britton, still facing the television set with her back to me. I didn’t want to go, but I sensed again that she might want me to leave. Something huge had happened in that bedroom. I could feel it, and her silence frightened me.
“Britton?” I said softly.
“Would you like a glass of that wine you brought?” she asked to the television, but I saw her addressing my reflection in the screen.
“Sure. I’ll get it.”
“I’ve got it.” She turned toward her kitchen without looking at me.
I walked around her couch and turned the television off. The room was completely dark and I found a small lamp on the mantel that I clicked on. It wasn’t bright by any means, and it cast only a small glow on the dark brick behind it. I didn’t have time to search for another light before she returned with two juice glasses, each half full of the rosy wine. I sat on the couch, but Britton remained standing.
I was suddenly uncomfortable. She sipped her wine and placed the small glass on the mantel.
“I don’t know what to say,” she began. “It was sort-of a shock to me to hear him say that.”
“Me, too. But I liked it. Can I say that?”
“Sure.”
“Come here,” I said softly, my voice deep.
She stepped toward me, but stopped a few inches before me.
“You’re scaring me, Gavin.”
She paused and I spoke.
“You said you were worried that you’d never recover again. And it took you a long time to get over me before. Is that true? Did you get over me?”
“Gavin,” she said softly in that sultry voice. I knew that voice, but I wanted answers.
“What did you mean?”
“I meant that when I didn’t hear from you, it took me a long time to stop thinking of you every day, all the time.”
“Didn’t hear from me? You didn’t answer my calls.”
“I wrote you a letter.”
“A letter? I didn’t get a letter.”
Britton looked at me for a moment, her eyes slightly widened. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Gavin. I understood you had dreams and you needed to follow them.”
We were at an impasse.
“Why was it hard?” I questioned.
“Gavin,” she warned again in that voice.
“Why?” I repeated.
“I didn’t understand what happened then, but I know now that we just grew up and apart. That’s all. You had dreams.”
“And what about your dreams?”
“I told you, Gavin. They had to change, and I don’t regret it. I have Gee, but I don’t want to talk about this now.”
I reached for the hem of her skirt and tugged it gently. She stepped forward, closer to me, so her knees pressed above mine as she stood in front of me.
“Just so we’re clear. I didn’t recover from you so well,” I said, my tone raspy.
She was silent for a moment.
“Well, you obviously did,” she spoke quietly.
“If that’s what you say,” I mumbled, but she didn’t respond.
&
nbsp; “Tell me what you’re thinking now?” I asked nervously.
She only shook her head.
“Tell me,” I tugged her skirt again and slid my feet between hers, forcing her to open her legs.
“About you,” she whispered, looking down at me. Her hair was falling out of its messy twist, and I reached up with both hands and yanked her hips forward. She knelt on either side of my thighs and sat at the edge of my knees, bracing her hands behind her on my kneecaps. My hands remained on her hips.
“What about me?” I swallowed as I looked up into her bright, blue eyes. She licked her lips and my mouth grew dry with a need to taste those lips.
“How I never really have stopped thinking about you. All day, every day,” she whispered softly as she stared at my lips.
I tugged her rather forcefully toward me, sliding her down my thighs to straddle my hips. Her skirt rose to expose her legs. I slipped my hands up her back and pulled the band that held her hair, releasing it to cascade down her shoulders. Sliding my hands back down to the exposed skin above her knees, I slowly rubbed both hands up her thighs under her skirt.
“Gavin,” she said my name, and she sounded dangerous. Almost aggressive; warning and wanting at the same time. This was not the voice I knew from before. This voice drove me forward. I pressed my hips to her and pulled her by her thighs to meet me. I didn’t want to talk anymore. We were talking in circles. I wanted to touch her.
I was solid in my shorts and I pressed up against her as she squeezed her knees into my hips to rock against me. I felt the burning zing up my stomach and down my thighs as my body responded to her. She rubbed again and moaned softly as she gripped the shoulders of my t-shirt. Her eyes were closed and she slid her hands over my shoulders, across my chest, and down to my solid abs. She slipped her hands under the hem of my shirt and softly stroked back and forth across the ripples under her palms.
“You have a man’s body now.” It was simply a statement.
“And?”
“It’s so perfect, it’s a crime,” she moaned as she pressed down on me.
My hands slid up and under her skirt to her hips. I kept expecting to find the elastic edge of her underwear, only to keep going and going. For a brief moment I thought she might not have anything on, but then I reached the edge of a satiny ribbon strip.
“What do you have on?” I growled, fumbling with the thin strap around each hip with my fingertips.
“A thong,” she said, suddenly looking at me.
I had to see this and I lifted the side of her skirt, exposing the firmness of her hip. Her body had matured, too. Her hips were wider, and her stomach softer. Her breasts were fuller, but she was curvy and sexy. Sexier than I ever remembered.
I lowered the skirt and gently pushed the soft material up and down her thighs, teasing her skin with the tickle of the smooth fabric. Her eyes were closed again and her hands were still under my shirt, forcing it upward. She ran her fingers through the delicate hairs on my chest, and she moaned slightly as she touched my nipples. I was massaging her upper thighs, working the skirt higher and higher.
“Let me touch you,” I said throaty and deep, asking but demanding at the same time.
She didn’t reply, only slid slightly back up my thighs, giving me some space. It was an invitation for me to reach for her with my fingers. I let my hands caress inside her thighs and I felt her open her knees wider, another invitation.
“Gavin,” she said in that melting voice, but her tone was filled with something else. Fear?
I froze. “Do you want me to stop?”
“I…I don’t think so.” She paused and looked at me. “No, I definitely don’t want to stop. You’ll break me, though, Gavin, and I know it. I just don’t care right now.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that.”
She was right. I couldn’t promise not to break her heart any more than she could promise not to break mine.
“Look at me,” I whispered. I wanted to see her reaction as I softly touched her. I always loved this sensation, sneaking up her denim mini-skirts as a teenager. This skirt was different; more flowing and soft. When I touched her, her response was definitely different. She wanted me in a way that was more sensual than any teenage experience.
She gasped immediately, even though I knew she was anticipating my touch.
“Gavin,” she whispered with a breath.
“What, Precious?” I asked softly. I stroked a finger against her again. She was wet, almost dripping, and her legs separated farther at her knees. She pressed her hips up, forcing my finger to stroke her, and I knew she wanted me to keep going.
“Tell me what you want, Britton.”
“I want to feel like more than a mom. For just a moment,” she said, surprising me.
I stroked her again and her breathing hitched.
“I think this feels like much more than being a mom,” I groaned.
“Mmmm,” she moaned.
“Tell me what else.”
“I want to feel wanted. For me.”
I slid a finger around the thin strip of lacy material and pushed it inside her. I watched as her eyes slightly rolled back. She gripped my t-shirt from within.
“I think this feels like a woman who wants many things.”
“Mmmm,” she moaned again.
“Tell me what else.”
She slowly shook her head side to side. I slid another finger inside her. She clenched around me as I started a pleasurable rhythm in and out of her. In, out. In, out.
“What else?” I picked up the pace, driving deeper as she moaned louder.
She shook her head again. Biting her lip, she held back what she wanted.
“Tell me,” I growled deeply. I added my thumb to meet the nub at her core and her eyes shot open to stare at me. She squeezed her knees together, pressing into my outer thighs. She gasped softly and rocked her hips slightly to meet my torturous touch.
“Right there.” I wasn’t asking her. I knew. I wasn’t a sex-crazed teenager anymore. I had more practiced skills now.
She closed her eyes slowly and moved her hips to match the rhythmic thrust of my fingers.
“Tell me what else, or I’ll stop.”
“You wouldn’t,” she moaned, pushing herself forward onto my fingers.
I stopped. She glared at me, narrowing her eyes.
“I hate you,” she whispered, clenching around me.
“Really?” I chuckled.
“No.”
I began the steady motion again, teasing her as her excitement built.
“I…it’s been a long time since someone…has touched me…and I just want to…” she whispered, but her voice continued to hitch. She hadn’t touched me, but I didn’t care. This moment was about her. I kissed her; my lips soft on her mouth in contrast to the aggressive motion of my fingers. Devouring her mouth tenderly, nibbling at her lips, I couldn’t get enough of touching her in more than one place. I felt her begin to clench my fingers harder. It was coming soon for her. I pulled my mouth back slightly and spoke against her lips.
“I’ve got you. Let go.”
“Gavin,” she said my name so low I’d hardly hear it if I hadn’t felt it on my lips. She arched her back, her hips pressed forward. She was drenching me. I loved watching the show. I had no memory of her reacting to me like this. This was new for me, and it would outweigh many other memories of her. Her eyes closed as her head tipped back, but I wanted to see her.
“Look at me,” I demanded, and she snapped her eyes open.
She looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time. Not as a stranger, but as if she hadn’t noticed all of me before. She focused on my eyes then looked at my mouth. She searched my face with her gaze.
“What?” I asked, suddenly nervous.
“I just want to remember this moment. This feeling. Forever,” she whispered.
I leaned in to feast on her mouth again. Her hips slowed, and I removed my finger
s. Sliding my hand up her stomach, and between her breasts, I circled her neck to hold her. I continued to kiss her slowly, passionately. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to relish this moment of afterglow for her.
She ran a flat palm down my solid stomach muscles and slid her fingertips inside my shorts.
“Britton, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. That was all for you, okay?”
She shook her head, and then unbuttoned my shorts. Slowly unzipping them, she released me from the constraint. Her eyes were steady on mine as she wrapped her hand around me without breaking contact – dark brown to bright blue.
“I don’t think I know how to do this anymore,” she said softly. I was solid. She wrapped her small hand around me tighter, and I groaned as she tugged me upward.
“I don’t know that I’ll be any good. It’s been a long time,” she said with a shaky voice. “You’re perfect.” She pulled harder, with long strokes, up my shaft. She ran her hand over the tip of me, which released a small bit of wetness, and she used that to moisten me. Her hand slid easily up and down over me, and my hips bucked once when she reached the base of my erection. I ached for her and groaned softly as she squeezed me.
“You asked me what I want,” she whispered.
I looked at her, backlit by the soft glow of the light on the mantel.
“I want it all,” she continued. She climbed over me, placing the tip of me at her entrance. Her heat was over me and I groaned loudly at the intimate contact.
“I don’t have any condoms, do you?”
“Nope,” she said as she rocked down the length of me, coating me.
“I haven’t been with a woman without one, since you,” I continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“That was a long, long time ago.”
“I knew it’d never be the same,” I said honestly. She placed herself at the tip of me again.
“I’ve only had protected sex,” I rambled. I didn’t think I could stop us. I wanted her to know that I was clean.
She used her hips to angle me, forcing me upright. My head was primed to enter her. I could slip inside her with little effort, but she acted before I could. She pushed down, surrounding me with such force that I groaned loudly.