by Ramona Gray
My need for her was out of control, and I held tight to her hair and her shoulder as I fucked her with hard and rough strokes. She widened her thighs and moaned loudly, her hips meeting each of my thrusts with unrestrained enthusiasm. The only sound in the room was our harsh breathing, the wet sucking sounds of her pussy as it took my invading cock over and over, and the slap of my pelvis against her perfect ass, as we fucked hard and fast.
I drove harder and deeper, my hand still wrapped in Mia’s dark hair. I tugged her head even farther back until she was staring straight up at the ceiling, her cries and gasps of pleasure growing increasingly louder.
“Cum for me, Mia,” I growled. “Cum for me right now.”
She made a loud wail of pleasure and came hard. I drove deep a final time as her pussy squeezed exquisitely tight around me. I roared her name and let my own climax roll over me, my hand squeezing her shoulder hard, keeping her in place as I pumped her tiny pussy full of my cum.
When my body had finally stopped shaking, I released Mia’s hair and shoulder. She collapsed face-first on the bed, her body heaving for air as I eased out of her. I laid on my side next to her and rubbed her back.
“Oh my God.” Her voice was muffled by the pillows. “That was – that was the best sex of my life.”
I grinned and pulled the covers over both of us before turning her on her side and spooning her.
“I hope you’re okay with me staying the night,” she said. “My body is like a damn noodle right now. Pretty sure I won’t be able to walk on these spaghetti legs for at least a few hours.”
“You’re not going anywhere. Go to sleep, baby.” I kissed the back of her shoulder and snuggled in closer, my hand cupping her breast and our legs entwined.
Chapter Twelve
Mia
I studied Elijah’s sleeping body before sitting on the side of the bed. I’d woken up almost an hour ago and had a quick shower and dressed before returning to Elijah’s bed. Last night was amazing and incredible, and I’d loved every moment of it.
This morning though… I felt terrible for what I’d done. I needed to apologize to Elijah, but I was dreading it. I’d been so horribly selfish all goddamn night and I hated what I’d done to him.
Yeah, well, you were awful and it’s time to stop dragging your damn heels and do the right thing, Mia. You distracted him with sex last night, but as soon as he wakes up, he’s gonna be pissed about what you did. You need to apologize.
I wanted to strip off my clothes and crawl back into bed with Elijah. Instead, I squared my shoulders and rubbed the wide expanse of his back. He made a cute little snore before stretching and then rolling onto his back.
He gave me a sleepy smile and I held up the mug of coffee. “Morning, Elijah.”
“Hey.” He sat up, tucking the pillow behind his back and taking the coffee when I handed it to him. “Thank you. What did I do to deserve coffee in bed?”
“I need to apologize for last night,” I said.
He opened his mouth and I shook my head. “No, can you… I mean, I just need to get this out, okay? Then you can yell at me.”
“Why would I yell at you?”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry for my behaviour last night, Elijah. I acted like a horrible, jealous bitch and I’m ashamed about that. You were making a connection with Natalia and I ruined it.”
“Mia -”
“It’s not just that,” I said. “I used sex as a weapon to-to get you to go home with me. Then I pushed you to talk about something that you didn’t want to talk about. I forced you to tell me a secret that you weren’t ready to share, and I am truly sorry. I should never have pried into your personal life the way I did, and I hope you can forgive me. I know you’re angry with me and I -”
“I’m not angry with you,” Elijah said. “Mia, I’m not.”
I gave him a blank look of shock. “What? You are. Of course, you are. I was awful last night. I was an awful person, Elijah.”
He laughed and took a sip of his coffee. “No, you weren’t. You’re fucking perfect, Mia.” He gave me a tender look that hinged on worship and every nerve in my body pinged in alarm.
He reached out and squeezed my thigh. “Everything you do is amazing and perfect, and last night was -”
“I’m not perfect.” I could hear the anxiety in my voice tinged with the slightest bit of anger.
Elijah shrugged. “You are to me. You’re beautiful and perfect, and you don’t need to apologize. I’m not angry.”
“You should be angry,” I said slowly. “Elijah, what I did wasn’t fair to you. I promised to help you find a girlfriend and instead I – I sabotaged it.”
He shrugged again. “I wasn’t attracted to Natalia. Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not the point.”
He gave me a cheeky grin. “Then what is the point? That you find me so hot, you can’t resist me? Mia, I don’t want another woman. You’re the perfect woman and -”
“Stop it!” My voice was loud and this time the anger was evident. “Stop saying that!”
“Stop saying what?” Elijah blinked at me.
“Stop saying I’m perfect! What’s wrong with you? You need to be angry, you need to be upset with me.”
“Well, I’m not,” he said.
I threw my hands up in the air. “Elijah, I am not perfect, and you need to stop saying that I am. You need to stop believing that I am.”
He gave me a stubborn look. “What is going on? Since when is it a bad thing to give a woman a compliment?”
“Being told you’re perfect is not a compliment,” I snapped.
His big hand tightened around his coffee mug and a flicker of anger crossed his face. He set the mug down on the nightstand with a harsh thud, coffee sloshing over the edge. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mia.”
“I want you to stop thinking I’m perfect!” I was almost yelling now, and I tried to take a deep breath and just chill the fuck out a little. It didn’t work. Elijah being like Phillip was more than I could stand. Not when I was falling in lo-
Nope! Nope, don’t you say it, girl.
“Seriously? You want me to stop complimenting you? Jesus…” Elijah ran a hand through his thick hair. “I can’t do a thing right, can I, Mia? It doesn’t matter what I do or what I say, it’s always wrong. Why did you even agree to sleep with me?”
“Because I…”
I pressed my lips together, feeling sick to my stomach when Elijah made a bitter laugh. “Right. Because you had an itch that needed scratching. That’s all it is, right? I’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date.”
“No! That isn’t it at all! Elijah, I just – I don’t want you thinking I’m perfect. Okay? I need you to -”
“Fine,” he said. “I don’t think you’re perfect. Does that make you happy?”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want or need your pity. Thank you for teaching me how to fuck, but I think I’m good now.”
I glared at him. “Listen, I’m asking for something simple. Realize that I’m not as perfect as you think I am. I’m not saying I want to stop what’s happening between us, and in fact, I was thinking maybe we could try dat -”
“I want to stop,” Elijah said.
I swallowed hard. “W-what?”
“I want to stop,” he repeated. “I don’t need any more lessons and I can find a girlfriend on my own. Someone who wants me for more than itch scratching”
I blinked back the tears and cleared my throat. “Elijah, I -”
“Can you go, Mia? I’m tired and there’s nothing left to say. I’ll see you around.” He stared at a spot over my shoulder, his face closed off and withdrawn.
Tears starting to drip down my face, I turned and practically sprinted for the door.
* * *
I stood in Nana’s driveway, staring at my hands. In the three days since my fight with Elijah, I hadn’t left my house once. I
had to work tomorrow, and I was already dreading it. If there was an accident and I saw Elijah at the scene, I didn’t know what I would do. Burst into tears would be my first guess.
I sighed and trudged toward the front door. I hadn’t wanted to leave the house today either, but Nana had called and insisted I come over this afternoon. Unable to think of a reason why I couldn’t, I’d dragged my sorry ass into the shower, threw my hair up into a bun, put on my least stained yoga pants and t-shirt, and drove over here.
I walked up the front steps and rapped on the door before walking inside. Nana’s house smelled exactly like it always did, warm cinnamon and crisp apples, but even the familiar smell couldn’t lift my depression.
“Nana?” I hung my jacket in the closet and removed my boots. “I’m here. Why did you ask me to park down the street? I thought the driveway wasn’t being repaved until next week.”
“I’m in the kitchen, sweetheart.”
I walked down the hallway to the kitchen. “What is it that you needed? I can’t stay very long. I’m sorry, but I…. Isabelle? Wyatt? What are you doing here?”
I stared in confusion at my best friend and my cousin who were sitting at the table with Nana. A plate of cookies was in front of them, and Wyatt grabbed a cookie and ate it as I continued to stare at them.
“Sit down, Mia,” Isabelle said.
“What’s going on?” I gave Isabelle a suspicious look. Although I hadn’t said a word to Nana about what happened, I’d already cried on Isabelle’s shoulder twice since the fight.
Isabelle glanced at Nana. “This is an intervention.”
“What? What do you mean an intervention?”
“Just sit down, Mia. Please.”
I began to back out of the kitchen. “Nope, no way. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I -”
“Mia Margaret Martin,” Nana said. “Sit your cute butt in that chair immediately.”
Sulking, I walked into the kitchen and parked my butt in the chair, folding my arms across my chest.
“Your middle name is Margaret?” Isabelle said.
“Cork it, Izzy.”
She grinned at me and folded her hands together on top of the table. “This is a love intervention, Mia.”
“Whoa, a what now?” Wyatt paused with a second cookie at his mouth.
Isabelle ignored him. “Mia, you love Elijah and Elijah loves you. It’s more than apparent. You need to talk to him and work this shit out.”
“Wait… Elijah? Elijah Thomson? You’re in love with that jacked firefighter?” Wyatt said.
“No!” I snapped.
“Yes, she is,” Isabelle said. “Wyatt, I told you we were doing an intervention on Mia.”
“I didn’t know it was a,” Wyatt made a face, “love intervention.”
“What kind of intervention did you think it was gonna be?” Isabelle gave him an exasperated look.
“I dunno… a cheese intervention, maybe.”
“A cheese intervention?” I sputtered.
“You have an addiction to cheese,” Wyatt said solemnly.
“I do not!” I turned to Isabelle who shrugged.
“He’s right. You do have an addiction to cheese.”
“I don’t!” I said indignantly. “Just because I love cheese doesn’t mean -”
“You have a drawer in your fridge dedicated to just cheese,” Wyatt said. “You need help, Mia.”
“Wyatt, sweetie, perhaps we can talk to Mia about her cheese addiction at another intervention,” Nana said gently. “Right now, this intervention is about her love for that sweet boy Elijah.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes and took a bite of cookie. “Worst. Intervention. Ever.”
“I don’t need a love intervention,” I said. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Nana leaned forward and took one of my hands in hers. “Oh, dear heart, you’re not fine. You’re heartbroken.”
She gave me a look of compassion and love, and the tears immediately started to spill down my cheeks. “I-I-I’m fine.”
Isabelle handed me a tissue. “You’re not, honey. And it’s okay that you’re not. But we want to help you get better. The only way to do that is by forcing you to see that you need Elijah in your life. You are miserable without him.”
“He thinks I’m perfect,” I whispered.
“Obviously, he doesn’t know you well enough yet,” Wyatt said.
“Wyatt!” Isabelle glared at him.
“What? She’s not perfect. She has weird looking feet, she’s addicted to cheese, she can’t ride a bike, and,” Wyatt gave me a smug look, “she cheats at Scrabble.”
I wanted to flip him the bird, but with Nana in the room, I settled for giving him a dirty look. “Just because I beat you every time at Scrabble, doesn’t mean I’m cheating.”
Wyatt mumbled something under his breath before stretching his long legs out under the table and nudging my calf with his foot. “Izzy’s right, Mia. You look miserable.”
“Don’t call me Izzy,” Isabelle said automatically. “Mia, Elijah is not like Phillip, okay? You panicked and you made a wrong decision when you and Elijah had your fight, and that’s understandable, considering what you went through. Phillip was a total dickhe – jerk – sorry, Nana.”
Isabelle gave Nana an apologetic look and Nana made a ‘go on’ motion with her hand.
“Phillip was a jerk and like I told you before, no one could have lived up to his expectations. Okay? Maybe Elijah thinks you’re perfect right now and maybe eventually he’ll start to see your flaws, but regardless, he’s not Phillip. He adores you, Mia. The way he looked at you that night at the bar… he is in love with you. He will still be in love with you even when he recognizes your flaws,” Isabelle said. “Don’t throw that away, honey.”
I swiped at the tears with the tissue. “It’s too late. I wrecked everything by acting like an idiot. He said we were done, remember? He’s probably already friggin’ moved on by now.”
“Doubtful,” Wyatt said. “I saw him last night at an accident and -”
“Accident?” I froze in my chair and gave Wyatt a look of terror. “Is he okay? Is he hurt? What happened? How did he -”
“Mia, relax,” Wyatt said. “He wasn’t in the accident, he was at the scene of the accident. It’s his job, remember? Shit, you do have it bad for this guy.” He shook his head. “Anyway, he was there, and he looked like shit. I mean, he looked worse than the guy who actually was in the accident. It’s obvious that he’s just as miserable as you are.”
“See?” Isabelle said. “You need to talk to him.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “What if he -”
The doorbell rang and Nana popped out of her seat like a jackrabbit. “Who could that be?” She gave me a guilty look before hurrying out of the kitchen. “I’ll just go check.”
“Why does Nana look guilty?” I asked Wyatt.
Wyatt shrugged. “How should I know? I’m just here for the cookies.”
Isabelle squeezed my hand. “Don’t be angry, honey. Okay? Remember that we did this because we love you.”
“Isabelle?” I gave her a warning look. “What have you done? Please tell me that you -”
“Thank you so much for coming by, sweet boy,” Nana’s voice drifted down the hall. “I’ve asked Wyatt a couple of times to look at the sink, but he’s just so darn busy lately. Mia said you were pretty handy so I figured I’d see if you could help.”
“Isabelle,” I said in a fierce whisper. “Please tell me you didn’t -”
“Oh, Mia, dear heart, look who’s here.”
I swiveled in my chair, my heart thumping in my chest and my face bright red. Elijah stared back at me before beginning to back out of the kitchen. “Uh, I should go. I can come back -”
“Don’t be silly.” Nana took his arm and tugged him forward. “Stay and have a cookie, Elijah. They’re freshly baked.”
“Um…”
She smiled up at him. “You’re not going to break an old woman’s he
art by refusing to try one of her freshly-baked cookies, are you, sweetheart?”
Helpless against the relentless force that was my grandmother, Elijah shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Good, good. Remember, I told you to call me Nana or Martha. Have a seat. Would you like a glass of milk with your cookies?”
Elijah dropped into the chair next to me. “Um, sure, that would be nice.”
“Good.” As Nana grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and the milk from the fridge, Isabelle stood up and stared pointedly at Wyatt.
“Hey, Wyatt? Can you come help me with that thing now?”
Wyatt grinned at her. “I already helped you with that thing, Izzy. I think I’ll stay in the kitchen and have some more milk and cookies.”
He flinched when Nana gave him a hard poke between the shoulder blades. “Go and help Isabelle with the thing. Right now, young man.”
“Yes, Nana.” Wyatt made a face at me and I stuck my tongue out at him as he stood and grabbed another cookie. “Good seeing you again, Elijah.”
“You too, Wyatt,” Elijah replied.
Isabelle and Wyatt left the kitchen and Nana sat the glasses of milk in front of us before clearing her throat. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Nana said, “I should go help the kids with their…thing. You two stay here.”
She hurried out of the kitchen and I stared at the glass of milk in front of me. Without speaking, Elijah held the plate of cookies out to me and I took one with a small nod of thanks. He took one as well and we each ate a cookie. I was so nervous and sick to my stomach, that I could only eat half of mine before I set it down.
“So, uh, I guess there’s nothing wrong with your Nana’s sink, huh?” Elijah finally said.
“Nope.”
“Why are Isabelle and your cousin here?” He asked.
“They’re having an intervention for me,” I said.
“For your cheese addiction?”
I glanced up at him. “Why does everyone think I have a cheese addiction?”
“You have an entire drawer in your fridge for cheese, Mia.”
I stared at him, and when his lips curled up in a smile, I leaned over and rested my head on his thick arm.