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A Little Bit of Guilt: Little Bits #5

Page 22

by Murphy, A. E.


  The final charm is a smooth, orange stone that catches the light so wonderfully.

  I want to sob. I know exactly what this is. I read the inside of the lid anyway just to confirm and it is.

  It’s a Forever Connected charm bracelet. I’ve wanted one forever, no pun intended. They have charms for every moment of your life and if they don’t have it, you tell them and they make it. Maya has a silver one that Olivia and Elijah gifted her when they moved to New York, and Olivia has one too, she wears hers constantly. I remember talking to her about it the first time we met. It had a little silver eye mask on hers, like the kind one would wear to a masquerade ball. When I asked her what it was for she just giggled and looked at Maya. Her secrets are her own but I still want to know what it means.

  I pick up my phone and call her because she’s one of the only ones who will appreciate this and how special it is.

  “Summer,” she calls happily, her British accent heavy even in that one word. It sounds more like Somm-ah. It’s so endearing. “What a nice surprise, I was just talking about you with Elijah.”

  “Mason got me a Forever Connected bracelet,” I cry, looking at the gorgeous bracelet that remains in its box by my shins. “And it has four charms on it and of course he chose a gun for himself, but I love it anyways so hard.”

  “I think I got most of that,” she replies, laughing lightly. “That’s so lovely.”

  “Right? I just want to cry. I can’t help it.”

  “You’re not crying already?”

  I wipe my tears. “You know what I mean.”

  She laughs gently and then sighs wistfully. “That really is sweet of him.”

  “What is?” Elijah asks, his voice dark and just as endearing as hers is.

  “Mason sent Summer a Forever Connected bracelet.”

  “Romantic.”

  “Very. I do love a bit of romance.”

  Elijah chuckles in the background and whatever he says or does to her has her begging him to stop, but in a happy way.

  “Sorry, he won’t leave me alone. Are you okay?” she asks after a moment and some shuffling.

  I pick up all of the paper balls as I say, “I am so good, you have no idea how happy I am right now.”

  “And it’s only a few weeks until he is back right?”

  “He said December, he just doesn’t know when.”

  She hums thoughtfully. “Well, I hope it is sooner rather than later. You must be missing him desperately now that it’s getting closer to his return date.”

  “You can say that again. I really wanted him back for Thanksgiving.”

  “I guess it would have been nice being able to tell your parents together. Has it been that long since we spoke? I think the last time was maybe a few days before?”

  “Wow, time flies. Saying that though, I haven’t spoken to Loryn either in forever. I should call her.”

  Olivia sighs sadly. “I don’t know her like you do but I think it’s hard for her seeing you so heavily pregnant when she’s so desperate to conceive.”

  Hearing somebody say it out loud has lifted a small weight from my shoulders. I have been thinking it, though I haven’t obviously said it. “That’s what I thought too. I feel bad for her. I know she doesn’t blame me but I also don’t want to rub it in her face so I’ve been avoiding her and I think she has been avoiding me. Hence the six-week gap between phone conversations.

  “I should call her.”

  “I wish I knew what to advise. I’m sorry, I suck as a girlfriend.”

  “You said suck but it sounded more like sock.”

  “Not the point of the conversation here, Summer.”

  I snort. “Somm-ah.”

  She huffs. “I do not sound like that.”

  “You do though.”

  “If I sounded like that it would sound normal to me and not just like some ginger American trying to do a British accent.”

  I click my fingers and giggle. “So you admit it’s a British accent?”

  She growls at me which makes me giggle harder. I needed the laugh.

  “I feel better now. Thanks, Liv.”

  “No problem, Summer.”

  “Somm-ah.”

  The line goes dead and I’m not surprised, it also makes me laugh so hard I fart and my ass cheeks clap against the floor. That’s not something I’m going to tell anybody about.

  I pick up the card again, not liking the thought of trying to climb off the floor. I feel so heavy these days.

  I read it a hundred times. I know somebody at the place he ordered it from wrote in the card, but I still want to keep it forever.

  With a bit of fiddling, I clasp the bracelet to my wrist and shake it proudly. It feels so nice against my skin. It doesn’t nip or pinch or roll around too much. It is the perfect size. I love it so much.

  “He’s not answering my calls, emails, texts, and now you’re telling me he’s been in touch with you?” I shriek at Marie.

  It is only three weeks until Christmas and Mason is nowhere to be found. We are currently decorating my new tree. I wanted to wait for Mason before doing this but seeing as he might not come home at all I decided to take point.

  Marie grimaces. “Please don’t stress. You’re delicate right now.”

  “What did he say?” I bark, glaring at her with my hands on my hips.

  “Just that he missed us all and he told me to look after you.” She places her hand on my arm. “Look, when Mason is coming back he does this. He takes a few days to get his head in a good space before he returns. That’s all he’s doing.”

  I frown at the shiny purple ornament in my hand before hooking the thread around a bristly branch end. “He could just tell me that, hey, Summer, I’m going silent for a few days while I recover.”

  “There’s no knowing what he has seen over there, he has to compartmentalize it, or he becomes a not-so-nice person.”

  I blow a breath through my nose, knowing she’s right and I should be more compassionate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be berating you for his behavior and I shouldn’t be berating him either. I know he wants to be here. I’m just being hormonal and emotional and…” I look at her in her soft gray eyes and my chin wobbles. “I need him here now. My blood pressure is through the roof and I’m at risk to go into labor any day. They won’t survive, we all know it. I’ll feel safer if he’s here.”

  “I’m here, I’m not leaving until he comes home.”

  “Which isn’t fair on you or Jacob.”

  “I’m good actually, I get to play Warcraft all night,” Jacob calls from the kitchen. He is currently making us both drinks, giving us space as he always does. “I can’t do that while she’s there.” It’s weird knowing a movie star is in my kitchen making me a drink. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Nor will I tell Marie that I ever had Jacob’s posters above my bed when I lived at home.

  “Hey,” Marie whines. “I never tell you to get off your games. I don’t care what you do.”

  He pokes his head around the door, which is holding thick black hair at the moment for a new role he’s playing. It is so weird seeing him with black hair. It suits him though. “I meant because you’re so sexy I just can’t resist slipping my D into your V, baby.”

  “Gross,” I mutter.

  “Dude, that’s my fucking sister you’re talking about.”

  Hearing his voice for the first time in two weeks has my entire body tensing. I drop the new ornament in my hand and it clatters to the wooden floor.

  My eyes find Mason, his beard an inch long, his hair is too, his eyes are tired and his skin dirty, but he has never looked so handsome.

  I race to him as fast as I can waddle and throw my hands around his neck. He drops his heavy-looking duffle bag and returns it, wrapping his strong arms around my waist.

  “That’s our cue to leave,” Marie whispers to Jacob.

  I don’t even say bye, I’m too busy pulling Mason’s face to mine. Our lips collide, he tastes sweet, like apple juice
. His lips are dryer than I remember, his beard scratchy, but I still love it, I still deepen it. He smells just like I remember but better.

  I push my fingers through his hair, there isn’t enough to grasp but what’s there is so silky between my fingers. He moans against my mouth.

  We work together to get him out of his heavy jacket and it drops onto the floor with a loud, dull thud.

  “Babe, I need a shower,” he whispers in between kisses.

  “No, you don’t,” I reply, yanking his black T over his head. I stop where I’m standing and stare at his chest. He’s even bulkier than before, if not skinnier. His skin is dark, so dark in comparison to what it was. It’s peeling on his shoulders from the sun. It must have been really hot wherever he was.

  My hands smooth over his chest gently, and to his shoulders. He winces and all thoughts of sex vanish from my mind.

  “We should take care of you first,” I murmur, kissing his cheekbone and stepping away.

  “I’m fine, it’s just a bit of sunburn, get your hands back on me now.” When I don’t move, he grins and places his large hands on my huge stomach. “You look amazing. So radiant. You’re glowing. Growing. Everything.”

  I place my hands over his. “I’m a whale.”

  “No, whales are way more graceful than you.”

  I slap his sunburn for that and he laughs, burying his face in my neck.

  When he raises his head, he brings his lips back to mine and guides me to the bedroom. We walk together, tongues tangling, my hands on his bare chest, his on my waist.

  He turns me around and searches for the zip of my dress.

  “It’s here,” I breathe and lift my arm. He obliges and pulls the metal tag down to my hip. His rough fingers dip into the fabric and dance across my sensitive skin. My head tips to the side as his lips taste my neck.

  I am on fire.

  When he removes his hand and reaches for the ends of my dress I start to panic.

  My hands go to his wrists and grip tight. “I’m a lot different to how I was before.”

  “You’re even more beautiful,” he assures me and turns me to face him. “I want to see every single inch of your body and how it’s changing to give me the most precious gifts anybody has ever given me.”

  Oh man, I want to cry again.

  I raise my arms and he pulls my dress up, revealing the angry stretchmarks on my stomach. People say they’re our tiger stripes and to wear them proudly, but I just can’t see them as a beautiful thing, not yet.

  When my dress is on the floor, Mason lowers me onto the bed and traces each mark with the tips of his calloused fingers. I fight the urge to cover my eyes because looking at him while he caresses and assesses such an intimate part of my body is so unsettling.

  “You are stunning, nobody ever wore pregnancy so well.”

  I laugh once and grin at him. “Now you’re just being nice.”

  “I mean it,” he replies sharply and yanks my panties down my thighs. “I’ve never been more attracted to anybody in my entire life than I ever have to you, especially right now.”

  He takes my hand and pulls it to his groin. I gasp when I feel how hard he is beneath his combat pants. I immediately reach for the khaki ties and pull until it loosens enough for me to dip my hand inside. When I grasp him he groans and pushes them down his hips before kicking them off after his boots.

  “We’re going to have a conversation about boots in the house, or shoes of any kind,” I mumble right before he presses his lips to mine and smiles against them.

  “Whatever you want, baby.” His tongue dives into my mouth and I start to quiver below, thinking of how it would feel if he did that exact same thing down there.

  He obliges, drifting his lips down to my breast, then over my stomach, by the time he reaches my sex I’m a panting mess, begging him for more.

  And then finally, he closes his mouth over me and pushes his tongue inside as far as it will go. His thumb works my clit, circling furiously and his beard just adds to the sensitivity of it all. I’m a mess.

  I squeeze his head with my thighs and yell his name so loud I’ll be surprised if they don’t hear me in China.

  This is incredible.

  “Mason,” I beg, though I don’t know what I’m begging for. It can’t get much better than this. “Don’t stop.”

  He drives on, fucking me with his tongue until I clench around him and come so hard my entire body vibrates with it. The fiery pleasure pulses through me in waves, leaving me a moaning puddle on the bed as he climbs over me, rolls me onto my side, hooks my leg over both of his and drives into me from behind.

  “FUCK!” he yells and stops when his hips meet my ass cheeks.

  He pulls my hair from my neck and then tickles down my arm before clasping my hand. “Are you okay?”

  I nod frantically. “I’m amazing. Keep going.”

  “You’re so wet,” he whispers against my ear and then pushes his hips upwards, making him go deeper. “And hot.”

  His hand leaves mine and grips my hip as I turn my head to kiss him. He drives into me, fucking me faster now, rotating his hips as best as he can in this position. His gruff moans add so much to the experience and feeling of it all. I’m finding it hard to breathe.

  It feels so good.

  I fall again, straight into bliss as another orgasm pulses through me and he follows soon after, his cock swells and throbs inside.

  “Fuck,” he whispers and kisses my neck. “Summer, you have no idea how badly I needed that.”

  I smile and roll onto my back when he rolls off the bed.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, wanting to pull him back to me.

  “Babe, this bedding smells like fucking sunshine. I’m filthy. We’re showering together.” He bends and lifts me, making me shriek and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Put me down, I’m heavy.”

  “So heavy,” he croaks playfully and taps my temple with his nose.

  When we reach the door to the bathroom, he puts me down and all but drags me inside to the shower. I don’t want to wash him off but I also don’t want to have to change the bedding so maybe he’s right.

  “We’ll get a better shower installed. This one is too small for two people,” he states as he leans inside and twists the knobs. Water sprays down over his shoulders and I have never heard such a girly squeak come from such a masculine man before.

  “Cold,” he explains, shaking his head to rid himself of cold water.

  I laugh so hard I have to grip the basin for support. “Do that again. I beg you.”

  He glares at me over his shoulder but then his eyes change when he takes in my nudity. I want to cover up again but he won’t let me, he caresses my belly with his hands, just like before.

  “Are they kicking?”

  “Not right now, but they probably will after a shower.”

  He looks so excited and full of wonder. Then his eyes drift over my shoulder to the mirror. He scratches at his beard.

  “I need to shave. I was going to do it before I left but I didn’t want to waste another minute away from you.”

  Oh God… he needs to stop saying such sweet things.

  I hug him again, pulling his body to mine, uncaring of our nudity.

  “Want me to shave you?” I ask, pulling on the end of his beard. “Or do you want me to see if Loryn will come?”

  “Loryn, definitely Loryn,” he responds on a laugh and I slap him again. It’s not that I’m bad at shaving men, it’s just that last time I shaved Chris he moved and I sliced his jaw. It needed a stitch. He still has the scar. He didn’t get mad at me over it though, Chris wasn’t the kind to get mad or call people names. He laughed. We laughed. I felt awful. I still do.

  How he’s changed. Or perhaps he was this person all along. I just never pushed his buttons or denied him anything. He ignored me so much that when it came to him finally giving me any attention I was like a starving puppy in front of a dangling bone.

  I forgot
that Mason and Chris were friends by association once so he’d know about things like that. I wonder if that bothers him. It’s not like they were close but there’s still some kind of bro code, right?

  He pulls me into the shower and we both stand together under the warm spray. Chris is totally forgotten as I soap up Mason’s body, massaging his tight muscles and tan skin.

  He hums and presses his forehead to mine; I feel his dick harden between us and tap my thigh. A shiver rolls through me. I don’t want to stop having sex with him. I just want him to stay joined to me for a while, so I know he’s not going anywhere.

  “I’ve missed you, Mason.”

  “Me too, baby.”

  After our shower I took my time rubbing lotions into his skin to help with the sunburn. He fell asleep during and I wasn’t upset in the slightest. I kissed his shoulder and crept from the room after pulling the blanket over his back. It’s warm inside but not so warm that he can sleep naked without a blanket. Even with the house being heated gently.

  I also stared at him for a little while, but I won’t admit that out loud. He’s so handsome, and so relaxed in sleep. Lying on his front with his face pressed into the mattress and his arm hugging the pillow that should be under his head.

  Smiling, I pick up his clothes and boots and take them from the room to clean them.

  I wonder if he’d be okay with me rooting through his pockets. I don’t want to offend him. So I chicken out and leave them on top of the washing machine.

  Pockets are such a personal thing to some people.

  When he wakes up, looking disheveled and sleepy, I kiss his lips and give him a tour of the apartment. Showing him all the changes I’ve made.

  I also get super excited over the nursery furniture I’ve been looking at and I’m happy when he joins in, telling me we’re not having live footage baby monitors, or crib bumpers, or pacifier clips. He’s really done his research. Perhaps a little too well. He’s starting to sound paranoid.

  “Oh,” I moan when he decides to get dressed in actual clothes and not just walk around in a pair of boxer briefs.

  He shoots me a devilish grin over his shoulder and then yanks a clean T-shirt over his head, hiding his chest from my view.

 

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