by L. B. Dunbar
A gasp. A hitch. “I’m coming. Again. Again.” I love her sounds.
She stills, milking me within her, and I’m close but not ready to finish yet.
“One more chair,” I announce, lifting her while she’s still attached to me and shifting us to the final seat.
“Brut, I can’t take anymore,” she whimpers, but I know she can.
“Flip,” I grunt, and her rapid removal almost undoes me. Our skin slides, releasing a suction noise as she slips off me. Lily does as I ask, spinning so her back faces me, and I guide her to my lap, legs resting over mine to dangle on either side.
“I’m going to fall,” she says, reaching for the table before us.
“Never. I’ll never let you go again,” I say, sliding into her depths. Lily’s practically a ragdoll bending at my will, and I can’t hold out much longer. My lower back tightens, and the orgasm builds. Increasing the pace, I lift and lower her to hammer into her, and the room fills with grunts and groans. “So close, Lily pad.”
“Brut?” she questions, and the wonder in her voice catches me.
“What, sugar?”
“Brut, I’m…I’m gonna go again.”
Holy fuck. Yes. I continue to move her, our skin slapping, the noise echoing in the kitchen. An idea strikes, and I lift us both, bending her toward the table. Her stomach doesn’t allow her to lay flat as she’s definitely showing. Three full months. Six to go.
“Hold on, baby,” I groan as I pummel deep, the shift in position hitting her in a new way. Her arms lie near the edge of the table, searching for purchase on the surface. “Come for me.”
The command is harsh, desperate, needy. I want to feel her pulse around me again, squeezing me with her heat.
“Yes,” I cry out, stilling as I release inside her the second she clenches around me. I fall forward, lowering my forehead to her spine. Stars float before my eyes, and the rush leaves me and enters her. I love this feeling. I love my future wife. “That was incredible, sugar.”
Lily’s breath comes heavy under me, and I look at her in concern. A grin graces her face as she struggles to find the words to answer me.
“I love you,” I tell her.
“I like the sounds you make.” She’s teasing me because she loves these words, and then she answers me. “I love you, too.”
Her grin morphs into a deep smile. She likes it when I tell her how I feel, when I say those three important words, and I’ve learned a big reason is because she hasn’t heard them often enough in her life. I practice every day, sometimes telling her more than once because Lily wants to hear me say them. And I like to say them, especially when she looks at me like she does. Like I’m her everything…and beyond.
41
Restored dreams
[Lily]
Brut and I get married. Twenty-two years, five months, and nine days from the date we separated. I’m four and a half months pregnant when it happens, and Brut says he feels like the baby inside me marks a new beginning for us. But we aren’t marrying because of our little Lima Bean. We marry because he loves me, and I love him.
Standing on the edge of a breezy beach, my toes dig in the cold sand. It’s only fifty degrees today, January 1st, at Ocean Beach San Diego. I’m chilly, but this is where we wanted to wed. Instead of flowers, I hold a glass jar shaped like a bucket, filled with the seashells I collected when Brut and I were first here. My dress is empire waist, allowing for the slight bump covered in layers of light material that flows down to my feet. Midge says I look like a modern hippie as a wreath of lilies crowns my head. Brut says I look beautiful, which is something he says often.
“You’re practically glowing,” he tells me, and I say it’s because of the baby. But really, it’s our love. The warmth of Brut’s affection. The depth of his attention. He’s everything to me.
Today, he stands before me wearing casual linen pants and a white T-shirt. I can’t imagine him in anything stuffier, though. He does own one suit, but considering he wore it for Lauren’s funeral, I didn’t want him to wear it when we join together permanently. He agreed.
The wind picks up, and I shiver. Brut reaches out for me, rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms.
“You’re freezing,” he whispers, interrupting the minister.
“I’m perfect,” I tell him as his hands slip down to hold mine. The ceremony won’t last long. We selected a short reading and then the exchange of vows. It’s a morning wedding, and afterward, the beach house will be full to bursting with our family.
Midge and Hank are our witnesses. Ester and Julia are here for me. Midge’s boys are in attendance, too, as well as Chopper. I learned a little secret. When Ester took me to the doctor, those months ago, Chopper came to aid Julia in the bakery. While he didn’t know how to bake, he was a quick study and listened to Julia dictate instructions to him. I’ve noticed the looks he continues to slide to her. I’d dare to say he has a crush on her although she’s not returning the sly attention.
I smile at the love around me, around us. These are the people most important in our lives, and by summer, our little Lima Bean will join us. This is my family.
Brut and I continue to smile at one another. His grin, sexy and crooked; mine nearly cracking my face. I’ve never been so happy.
We say our, “I dos,” and then Brut kisses me, and I amend my emotions. This makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. His mouth on mine. His heart joined to me. Brut scoops me up after a hot kiss, and I squeal as he lifts me.
“I’m too heavy.” My feet kick, and sands drops from my toes.
“You’ll never be too much for me.”
My arms wrap around his neck as I try to balance my jar of shells. Brut carries me to the deck, and we enter the house where a brunch awaits. Chopper insisted the brunch wouldn’t be complete without waffles, and I agree.
Brut and I exchange a heated glance after a look at the display of cupcakes. This kitchen holds fond memories and so does icing.
“I’m going to frost you later,” Brut whispers in my ear, and I laugh, thinking he’s sharing another cupcake joke. Then I see the gleam in his eyes. He’s serious, and I can’t wait. I love the things this man does to me. I love him, and I’m thrilled to give him everything…and beyond.
Epilogue
Fast forward four years
[Brut]
“Shh, Lena, you’ll spoil it for Daddy.”
I already know about the party, the one that’s supposed to be a surprise but no longer is because four-year-olds can’t keep a secret. I play along anyway as I know Lily went through a lot of work to organize everything. It’s strange turning fifty. The big 5-0. I never would have imagined this would be my life.
A beautiful wife.
A loving daughter.
And a second son.
Lily had our little Lima Bean, who we named Lena Bea, and then twenty-two months later, she gave birth to Henry. She had high blood pressure with him, along with a pre-eclampsia scare, and I didn’t feel trying for more children was worth the risk of Lily’s life. I had a vasectomy to put a lid on the super swimmers as Hank teased me. He claims it runs in the family. He’s proud of being a father later in life, just like me, and his own daughter, Lyra, is a handful. He had the snip after her as well.
“He’ll be here soon,” I hear Chopper tell the crowd gathered in my backyard. Lily has added a ton of flowers over the years and strung lights over the back deck I finally built. Somedays, I don’t recognize the house as the home I grew up in—the one filled with men and attitude. Now, it holds a family filled with laughter and love. And a lot of toys. A shit ton of toys. I made this house as happy as I could while Chopper grew up, but I realize things are different this time around.
For one, I have Lily, who I should have had all along. She’s made a world of difference to Chopper. She includes him in everything, so despite his age difference, she wants him to remember he’s part of the family we have now.
Hank and I own Restored Dreams together now.
He finally let me give him part of the business, or rather, he bought into it. An investment, he told me begrudgingly, but I know he loves it. We’re partners as we’ve always been as brothers. Honestly, having him as an equal has taken some pressure off me, and I’m enjoying my family more the second time around. I did go back to school. Then I realized, I’m right where I’m meant to be. I decided to take some general business courses instead and completed a degree just to say I have a college education. Lily’s proud of me, but I’m proud of me, too. It was a lot of work with little ones, but Lily makes everything easy.
I round the corner of the house, opening the back gate, and hear the cheers of, “Surprise!” Everyone is here. Midge and Hank, the boys, and Lyra. Tommy and Edie. Her daughter, Masie, and West, a member of the band Tommy manages. Tommy’s niece, Ivy, and her husband, Gage, lead singer of the band. Ester and her man. Julia. Some guys from the shop.
I smile, placing a hand over my heart. I’m touched, even as I pretend to be surprised. I really am blessed, and I feel it inside my chest.
“You aren’t surprised,” Lily whispers as she steps up to me, kissing me lightly with Henry on her hip. He reaches out for me, and I take him from Lily. Her smile shakes, but I wrap an arm around her.
“Oh, I’m surprised, Lily pad.” And I am. I’m surprised where life can lead, and I’m so grateful to have my dreams restored to me.
+ + +
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More by L.B. Dunbar
Sexy Silver Foxes/Former Rock Stars
When sexy silver foxes meet the women of their dreams.
After Care
Midlife Crisis
Rom-com for the over 40
The Sex Education of M.E.
The Sensations Collection
Small town, sweet and sexy stories of family and love.
Sound Advice
Taste Test
Fragrance Free
Touch Screen
Sight Words
Spin-off Standalone
The History in Us
The Legendary Rock Star Series
Rock star mayhem in the tradition of King Arthur.
A classic tale with a modern twist of romance and suspense
The Legend of Arturo King
The Story of Lansing Lotte
The Quest of Perkins Vale
The Truth of Tristan Lyons
The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance
Paradise Stories
MMA chaos of biblical proportion between two brothers and
the fight for love.
Paradise Tempted: The Beginning
Paradise Fought: Abel
Paradise Found: Cain
The Island Duet
The island knows what you’ve done.
Redemption Island
Return to the Island
Modern Descendants – writing as elda lore
Modern myths of Greek gods.
Hades
Solis
Heph
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Need a little nibble of Tommy and Edie from After Care?
Here’s a taste.
1
The Introduction
“Is that your daughter?” A pretty blonde sat next to me on the edge of the pool. I fidgeted with the scarf wrapped around my head and smiled.
“Yes.” The beautiful brunette was mine, and even though she was eighteen, she was child-like in spirit, laughing as two little girls splashed her. Watching the younger two frolic in the water reminded me of my own children at that age. Life was much different then.
“Both yours?” I asked, shifting only my eyes to the twenty-something woman, adjusting the scarf once again on my head, waiting for her to notice it. There wasn’t a way to miss it. The thin material made no sense in the heat of the Hawaiian sun, but the traditional paisley patterned bandana in bright yellow made sense to someone like me. I was a breast cancer survivor. If you didn’t know, the head wrap gave it away.
She nodded in response to me and we remained silent a moment.
My eyes closed as I faced the brilliant blue sky, soaking up the sunshine, a welcome reprieve from the frigid temps we left behind in Chicago. I desperately needed this vacation. Party of three, please. I looked forward to the family time with my grown children. We had much to celebrate, the doctors told me. I smiled despite myself as I looked back at the two babes dousing my daughter.
“She’s good with kids,” the young woman remarked, and I stared off at my own child on the verge of womanhood. She’d make a great mother one day. Tears prickled my eyes. I didn’t want to think dark thoughts, but they often crept in. Silently, I hoped I’d get to see the day she mothered a child of her own.
“Cannonball.” A loud male screech erupted from my other baby—more a child than a man at the age of twenty-two. He catapulted into the huge, oddly shaped pool, covering his sister in a tidal wave of water, and drowning the two little girls.
“Caleb,” I shouted but the mother next to me laughed. A man with dark, chin length hair caught one of her daughters under the arms, hoisting her upward from the vigorous aftershock of my son’s jump. Masie held the other. Tiny arms wrapped around my daughter’s neck, holding tight like a second skin. Laughter surrounded all of them.
“That’s Ava,” the woman pointed to the dark-haired one matching her apparent father. “She’s six. And the blonde, choking your daughter is Emaline. She’s four.”
My eyes drifted back to the collection of young people but froze on the man with rock star looks. Deep set eyes, a thin scrap of scruff around his jaw, and the midnight color of his wet hair, added to what I imagined was a brooding look on an average day. Smiling at his child made all the difference in his appearance.
“You can ask,” the woman said. “Yes, it’s him.”
I turned to her, fully facing her equally striking appearance. Softer than his, her face held a playful look in her blue eyes. Puffy, pink lips conjured images of them kissing each other passionately. Passionate enough to create two small daughters. I sighed. It had been a long time since someone kissed me like that. Even the man who created two children with me had fallen out of practice years before everything happened.
“He’s Gage Everly.”
I blinked at her, shaking my head in confusion. “I’m sorry. Should I know him? Do I know you?” My eyes opened wider, a tingle of fear that somehow, I didn’t recognize him when it should be obvious. Not only had the cancer taken my hair, it had taken my memory, I chuckled, knowing that couldn’t possibly be true.
“Gage Everly, lead singer of Collison?” Her brow rose in question, as if I should recognize him or the name of the band.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again, cursing the terrible habit I had of apologizing for everything. I’m sorry, I wasn’t younger. I’m sorry, you no longer love me. I’m sorry, I got cancer. “I don’t…” My head shook to acknowledge I didn’t recognize him.
She chuckled softly, clapped a hand, and covered her cheeks. “Oh my, how refreshing.” Her blue eyes beamed brighter than the sky overhead.
“I think it’s just because I’m old,” I weakly smiled, reaching for the bandana once again. My hair had moved from the stages of peach-fuzz to crazy C-shapes and kinky, curly Qs, going in all directions. I didn’t need the material covering my head, but sometimes, I felt safer wearing it. My hair color hadn’t returned to my natural fading brown, but a mixture of white and dirty blonde.
You can dye it whatever color you want when approved, Nurse Marjorie had told me. Purple’s very popular for people y
our age. Her sweet, innocent voice intended to encourage me. Instead, I wanted to erase the smirk on her lips.
Your age. I was forty-three. I should have been in the prime of my life. Where was that sexual libido return everyone promised me would happen? Oh, right, it walked out the door with a younger model—blonde, thin, and cancer-free under her skin.
The new hair combination caused conflicting emotions. On one hand, the brilliant color reminded me of my growing age. On the other hand, the change from lackluster to vibrant aided to the new personae I wanted to adapt. It was time for a change.
“Oh.” My companion’s eyes opened wide, “Oh, I wasn’t implying…I mean…It’s just that…” Her hands waved in front of her as she swung her thin body toward me. “It’s just everywhere we go people know it’s him. It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t recognize Gage.”
I smiled. I didn’t know how to respond. A child squealed and I turned my attention to the pool, noting my son in a deep conversation with her husband. Masie still held one girl while the other tried to climb her father. Caleb wanted to be a guitarist when he was younger. It was his life’s ambition, until he discovered baseball. The sport became my ex’s dream for our son. Watching Caleb, his body straightened, his awe trained on the man before him—someone I didn’t recognize, but surely Caleb did.
A gruff voice behind us bellowed, “Please step away from him.”
My body twisted to face the sound, rich in baritone, tough as a boulder, and rugged like gravel under bare feet. I shivered despite the heat. Two thick arms crossed a midnight colored T-shirt stretched over the barrel chest of an older man, rightfully in his forties with silvery hair curling at his neck and salt-and-pepper facial scruff. He wore black pants, balancing himself with a wide stance of thick legs. Regardless of tinted aviators, the weight of his eyes bored into me. Rock star sprang to my mind.