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Sisters in Bloom

Page 4

by Melissa Foster


  He put one strong hand on her shoulder and slowly lowered her jacket to the floor. His lips were warm against her neck.

  Her eyes fluttered closed as he ran his hand down her arm to her breast. “Wait,” she whispered, moving his hand away. “I really wanted to seduce you.”

  “You did,” he said with a grin.

  “No, my dear, you haven’t seen nothing yet.” She playfully pushed him back down on the bed. He leaned on his elbows and watched as she crawled like a tiger over him, one leg on either side of his body. When her face was above his, he lay down on his back.

  Danica lowered her mouth to his, kissing him long and slow, then more deeply, probing his mouth, tasting him, loving him. Kissing Blake was one of her favorite pleasures. He grasped her hips and she reluctantly pulled away, shaking her head.

  “No,” she whispered. She bent over his chest, dragging her hair over his skin as she kissed the dimples of his abs, then ran her tongue along the tender skin just above the waist of his jeans.

  His fingers clutched her hair as she licked his hipbone, then took a little nip, loving the sound of his quick inhalation of breath, which she knew was between gritted teeth. She kissed the tender spot, then ran her hands up his sides and slid to his pecs, where she lingered, her fingers trailing over his nipples as she kissed her way up, then licking them until they were taut.

  He reached for her again, but she moved down his body, out of his reach, working the button on his pants before kissing the area just beneath the stiff fabric. She unzipped the cold metal and pulled his pants down, trapping his legs with them just above his knees.

  Blake lifted his head. “Baby,” he said. “Come here.”

  Being the aggressor was new to Danica, and she didn’t know what drove her there tonight, but she loved seeing the hunger in his eyes and knowing he’d have to wait until she was ready. She slid her fingers under the waist of his boxer briefs and teasingly inched them down, following the trail along the crease that led from his hip to between his legs.

  He clenched the blanket in his fists.

  “You like that?” Oh my God, did I say that?

  “What do you think?” he asked with a tense voice.

  “Good.” She pulled the briefs down further until his desire was set free and then ran her tongue up the length of his shaft, inciting the most delicious groan she’d ever heard him make. She kissed the sensitive skin beneath his hips, running her tongue between each hipbone and down to his inner thighs, purposefully touching, kissing, licking, and caressing every bit of skin except the hard area he most wanted her to. He arched beneath her, but she would not give in. Her hair brushed his erection while she took little nips from his inner thighs.

  “You’re killing me,” he said, reaching for her hair.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll die happy.” She slid off the bed and pulled his jeans off, tossed them to the side, then did the same with his briefs. God, he was gorgeous, splayed out like a perfectly photoshopped human being, layered with sweet, tanned skin and ripple after ripple of masculine muscles. She slipped out of her thong and kissed her way back up his legs until she was straddling him.

  His eyes fluttered open and he reached for her breasts, caressing them through the thin film of silk and lace. She arched into his hands, her focus falling away with his touch.

  He sat up, stretching her legs out behind him, and pulled her cami off. Then he took her breasts in his hands and brought them together, wrapping his mouth around both nipples at once. Danica arched again, and a moan escaped her lips. He moved from her nipples to the center of her breasts and then ran his tongue down to her belly button. Her insides pulsed for him as she came forward and took his cheeks in her hands, kissing him until she could barely breathe.

  Suddenly, she was in the air. It took a second for her to realize his hands were on her hips and he was lowering her onto him.

  “Blake,” she gasped as he filled her completely, and began to move with him. He gripped the outside of her thighs, moving her faster, pulling her harder against him, driving deeper into her until every nerve was on fire and her eyes were fluttering open and closed. She clawed at his strong arms as she reached a quick and unexpected peak, so glorious her body shivered and shook.

  Blake’s tongue was on her neck, her earlobe, and then the sensitive little dip beneath her ear. Danica tried to concentrate, but she was lost in the sensations of his touch.

  With one strong arm around her waist, he flipped them both over, taking her legs and hoisting them up beneath his arms. He thrust deeper and deeper into her, touching her in places that sent tiny shocks through her body. She reached for him, but her arms wouldn’t listen; they fell back to the bed. Then her legs were back on the bed, and Blake lowered himself to her, pumping slower, kissing her, probing her mouth with his tongue.

  “God, I love you,” he said, resting his cheek on hers. “I love you so much.”

  Danica tried to respond, but he was still moving, faster now, within her, and she was right on the verge of another climax. Blake wrapped his hands under her back, then grabbed her shoulders and held her still against each strong thrust. She felt him swelling inside of her and wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting every bit of him to be hers. Just as she closed her eyes against another fantastic orgasm, he cried out her name and arched his back, thrusting harder, faster, then slower, as he panted through his own climax, and finally came to rest upon her.

  Their bodies were slick with sweat, the bedroom silent, save for their satiated breathing.

  “Welcome home, baby,” Blake whispered.

  Danica couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Kaylie danced in her shorts and maternity top, swinging her hips to the music that cascaded through their spacious living room, excited about a potential girls’ night out. Kaylie’s insecurities about her body always fell by the wayside when music was involved. It’s like she was transformed into another world altogether. She’d been so worried about her failing career, and with her mind blocked by thoughts of strollers and car seats, as it should be, she hoped her friends could help her find direction. After all, they had been instrumental in helping her come to the conclusion that following her heart and building a career in the music field was the right thing to do. In her senior year of college, they’d spent endless nights tossing around what seemed like hundreds of behind-the-desk, practical careers. Careers that wouldn’t leave her feeling like a second fiddle to Danica the Therapist. But in the end, neither her friends, nor Kaylie, could see her doing anything besides singing, and it had been a good decision. She had a fulfilling, fun lifestyle—even if she felt as if her career was yet another thing that placed her beneath Danica on the invisible intelligence scale.

  Kaylie went out to their backyard and picked fresh flowers from the edge of the woods—a nice little bonus of owning twenty acres—and replenished the vase on the dining room table. Chaz’s three-bedroom chalet was spacious and open, and when Kaylie had moved in, it was very much a man’s house. The oversized white sofa had no throw pillows, the mantel was bare, and she wasn’t sure Chaz even knew what curtains were. Though, with his view of the mountains—and no neighbors for miles around save for the vacant house a mile away—she didn’t blame him for leaving the windows untended. It was the morning sun that she didn’t care for, especially now that she had no reason to wake up as early as the sun rose.

  She remembered how, when she was a little girl, her mother used to wake her up at what seemed like the crack of dawn on the weekends: Rise and shine! Let’s chase the beauty into the day and not be left behind. It felt so weird to see her mother again—especially with her red hair and her new sense of fashion. And cell phone. And calls and texts from that man. She really wanted to be happy for her mother’s new outlook, but when she’d seen her, she’d felt like that recent college grad again and the hurt had tumbled in. Will it ever go away?

  Her cell phone vibrated and she picked i
t up. “Hello?” Silence. “Hello?” She heard the dead hum of the cell phone line. Damn it. The service on the mountain was sporadic, and it nearly drove her crazy. She stomped to their newly installed landline, realizing briefly that she hadn’t even written down the number after Chaz had had it installed. She had to remember to write it down, she thought, as she dialed Camille’s number.

  “Hola, chica,” Kaylie said.

  “Kaylie? I didn’t recognize the number.”

  Kaylie and her entourage of friends had grown up together. Camille had always been the leader of sorts, while Kaylie had been the party girl. She imagined Camille now, in her big, beautiful new house, still a newlywed, just a few months into her married life. She couldn’t wait to take that step. They’d decided to postpone getting married until after the baby was born. Kaylie didn’t want to be pregnant in her wedding photos. She touched her belly and said, “It’s the new phone we installed in Chaz’s office. Anyway, has Danica called you yet?”

  “Honey, Danica called me the minute you guys left Felby’s. Sounds like an intervention to me.”

  Figures. “Intervention?” What the hell did Danica tell you? “And?”

  “And we’re all set to go to Bar None tonight, which, I might add, I cannot believe you want to do in your current pregger state.”

  “Oh, shut up. Tonight? She wants to do it tonight?”

  “What’s wrong? Hamstrung by that drop-dead gorgeous fiancé of yours? Too tired? If you can’t make it—”

  “Who are you kidding? I’m going, and we’re gonna have a blast.” Kaylie mentally ticked off her outfits and realized that nothing she owned would be suitable for Bar None. She pictured Camille looking over her perfectly manicured nails, not a hair out of place, and showing up that evening in a drop-dead, naval-baring, sexy sheath. “I need to go shopping.”

  Kaylie sped drove through town toward the Village, feeling more like her old self. The prospect of hanging out with the girls had taken her mind off her lack of work and expanding waistline.

  At the stoplight, her cell phone vibrated. She picked it up and saw a text from her mother. So great to see you. Miss you. Sorry I never texted you before this. Kaylie tossed the phone on the passenger seat when the light turned green. She was glad that her mother was reaching out, but she was equally as irritated by her internal conflict. She thought of her mother kissing someone other than her father, and even though she still harbored way too much anger to think of her mother and father as any sort of a couple, the thought still turned her stomach. It was clear to Kaylie that she couldn’t trust her emotions around her newly dating mother.

  She wished she could talk to someone about her pregnancy and the hormones that took her through the wretched highs and disastrous lows that she’d been trying to mask for the last few months; but none of her friends had been pregnant. They wouldn’t understand, and Danica was crazy in love and whizzing through a new career and relationship without so much as slowing down. What is wrong with me? For the first time in several years, she wondered if this was what it felt like to need your mother, and the thought that followed hurt like hell. Will I ever be able to mend that bridge?

  Ten minutes later, Kaylie parked her car in the Village parking lot and gave herself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror. What a mess. She freshened her makeup and ran a comb through her hair, cursing at how it had become thicker since she’d been pregnant. She now sported wayward, too-thick strands poking out like a halo from her head.

  The afternoon sun warmed Kaylie’s face as she window-shopped her way through the Village. She wandered into Young at Heart, one of the few clothing stores that carried trendy outfits that fit her prepregnancy size-five body perfectly. Some stores carried brands that were too roomy in the hips, or too loose in the thighs, but Young at Heart always seemed to fit. The Fray was playing on the speakers, and two teenage girls stood behind the counter laughing and moving to the music. Kaylie watched them, feeling silly for being jealous of their exposed, tanned, flat-as-a-board stomachs.

  She rifled through the rack and pulled out tops that she thought might stretch over her mushrooming belly. The tank top she wore with her maternity jeans swung out at the bottom like a tent. She’d love to wear something more formfitting. She picked an armful of extra-large blouses, T-shirts, and tank tops and headed for the fitting room. She tugged at the door. Locked. The last thing Kaylie wanted to do was ask those happy girls for anything. Luckily, she didn’t have to.

  The dressing room door beside her opened, and a very tall, slim brunette walked out. “Here,” she said, revealing her perfect white teeth and adorable dimples.

  “Thanks.” Kaylie hurried inside feeling more like her mother than herself—too matronly to be in the store at all. Hell, not even like her mother anymore. Her mother looked fresh and fashionable in her cap-sleeved blouse and white slacks. She flopped down on the bench inside the dressing room, the pile of shirts in her lap.

  Kaylie took off her shirt and picked through the tanks, choosing a pretty pale yellow one with green trim. She pulled it over her head. Yeah, baby, this will definitely fit. Even as she tried to convince herself, she knew it was impossible. She tugged it down over her breasts and couldn’t believe it stopped mid-boob. “Really?” she said to the empty room. She tugged and yanked at the bottom of the shirt. It wouldn’t budge. Kaylie faced the mirror; her bare belly stuck out like a giant basketball, complete with a faded brown line down the center. Her belly button resembled a misshapen scar instead of the cute little inny that she’d always been so proud of. She missed her piercing, which she’d taken out begrudgingly at sixteen weeks, per her doctor’s suggestion. She surveyed her changing body, and she sank back down to the bench, feeling worse than she had when she’d left home.

  There was a knock at the dressing room door. “You okay in there? Need another size?”

  Kaylie yanked the tank top awkwardly back over her head. “Not unless you carry whale-sized shirts.” She pulled on her maternity top with a heavy sigh and opened the door.

  One of the girls from the counter dropped her eyes to her belly. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, I thought I could fit in these.” She pointed at the pile of shirts she’d left on the bench.

  “I can take care of those.” The girl flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and then touched Kaylie’s arm. “Hey, what about going to the Dead Zone? You know that cool shop at the end of the street? They have those great hippie shirts that are all flowy and light. They’d probably fit, and with the right pair of jeans.” She looked at Kaylie’s jeans. “Like those, that’d be really cute.”

  Kaylie was swept into the girl’s enthusiasm. “You think so?” She smoothed her shirt, feeling a little less like Shamu.

  “Definitely.” The girl beamed. She called to the girl behind the counter. “Hey, Shay, wouldn’t she look so cute in those Dead Zone shirts?”

  Shay smacked her gum like a cow. Silver earrings lined the edge of both ears, and several long silver and leather necklaces hung around her neck. “Totally!” she said between gum smacks.

  “Yeah? Thanks.” Kaylie left the store with a bounce in her step.

  Two hours later Kaylie began her drive out of town and toward their chalet, her backseat filled with packages from the Dead Zone, her new favorite store. Her cell phone rang and she pulled to the side of the road. Finding out she was pregnant had switched some crazy maternal instinct in her brain. She no longer texted and drove, and she had stopped answering the phone while behind the wheel, too. Lee Brice sang quietly from the speakers.

  She looked at the number on her cell screen. Reno. She answered with an air of confidence. She had sung at the Reno nightclub for the past three years. It was one of her favorite venues, and the patrons loved her more with each performance, staying after the show to ask for her autograph and making her feel like a real celebrity—even though Kaylie knew she was anything but. It was in the bag. “Lisa, hi, how are you?”

  “Hi, Kaylie.”

  Kay
lie sensed a hesitation and tried to brush it off. “I didn’t expect to hear from you until next week.”

  “I know, Kaylie, listen. I have some bad news.”

  Kaylie’s heart sank as she listened to Lisa hem and haw her way through telling her she didn’t get the gig. The noise of the engine fell away. She punched the radio button with her index finger, filling the car with silence, save for Lisa’s stumbling voice coming through her cell, saying something about new mothers being unreliable. Unforeseen circumstances arise when babies are involved. Besides, do you really think you’ll want to leave your baby overnight?

  She was too stunned to formulate a rebuttal. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Kaylie pressed End and stared out the window, conflicted by wanting to be home with her baby and determined not to repeat her own mother’s mistake of staying at home and losing hold of all the things that had made her whole before having kids. Maybe this is good, she thought, forcing my hand to stay home for a while. Who am I kidding? There are no happily ever afters. No way am I gonna end up like Mom, left with nothing more than a broken heart. I’ve worked too hard not to continue standing on my own two feet. Besides, without a career, there would be one more nail on my not-as-smart-or-as-capable-as-Danica coffin. Something had to change, and Kaylie was dead set on figuring out just what that was.

  Chapter Six

  Kaylie left her bags in the car and flung herself onto the couch.

  “Something wrong?” Chaz asked as he came into the living room. He moved the colorful throw pillows aside and sat down beside Kaylie on the deep cushioned sectional, setting a glass of ice water with sliced lemon on the coffee table.

  She stared at the mantel, littered with framed photos they’d accumulated over the last few months. Their smiles beamed at her like beacons through the shadowy darkness of her disappointment. “I didn’t get the Reno gig that I’ve done for the last three years.” She crossed her arms, feeling like a pouty child and cringing inside but unable to turn it around. Lisa had taken the wind right out of her. “That’s my given, you know? The one I could always count on. I figured that since it was eight weeks after the baby’s supposed to be born, they’d hire me. They loved me.” She shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”

 

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