by Bargo, Holly
When she reached down to gently squeeze his balls he, too, found a release.
They panted, inhaling their comingled scents as the perspiration dried and their bellies still growled.
“I still don’t want to cook dinner tonight,” Sonia quipped in a mild tone.
Mick chuckled helplessly, head falling forward to rest between her breasts.
After a minute or five, he rose and returned with a warm, wet washcloth which he used to gently wipe her body. He pressed a kiss to her knee and said, “Get dressed, wench, or you’ll get no supper tonight.”
She giggled and quickly pulled on undergarments and a sundress while he cleaned up. She watched appreciatively as he dressed, concealing the hard muscled body beneath cotton and linen.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he walked her to the old truck.
“There’s a Japanese steakhouse just outside downtown that’s really good,” he said. “Do you like Japanese food?”
“You bet,” she answered.
They made small talk on the short drive. They walked hand-in-hand into the lobby and followed the hostess to the hibachi grill seating. They ordered drinks and waited while other patrons entered and were seated at the table with them. In short order their chef arrived with a smile and theatrical twirl of fork and spatula. The diners oohed and ahhed and clapped at the chef’s cheerful performance as they tucked into the mounds of food tossed onto their plates.
“Why does this place even offer dessert?” Sonia groaned before she’d eaten even half of her food. “I’m stuffed. If I eat much more, I’ll explode and that won’t be pretty.”
Mick laughed and said, “We’ll get those take-home boxes for the leftovers.”
She nodded and leaned back in her chair. “Let’s take a walk,” she suggested, then burped. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover the faux pas. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
Mick chuckled again and whispered reassurance that it was only a little burp and no one noticed. Sonia leaned her forehead against his upper arm and giggled foolishly while the elderly couple at the table looked upon them with nostalgic fondness. Mick raised Sonia’s face with a finger beneath her chin and kissed her forehead. The old man’s eyes twinkled and he commented in a low voice to his white-haired wife, “That could have been us sixty years ago, don’t you think, Gladys?”
The elderly woman’s wrinkled face creased even further with her indulgent smile.
They paid for their meals and departed. The old man reached over and patted Mick on the back. He leaned over and said, “You treat that pretty girl right and she’ll stick by you just like my Gladys has stuck by me. A good woman’s a pure treasure. Don’t screw it up, boy.”
“No, sir,” Mick replied with the ingrained respect for his elders as taught to him by his mother. Some lessons couldn’t be unlearned.
Sonia’s hand found his and they took a leisurely walk through the commercial neighborhood, looking at displays in shop windows and talking about nothing and everything. They paused before a Swarovski store and admired the sparkling items.
“It’s amazing what they do with glass,” Sonia said. “I just love their stuff.”
“What do you want?” he asked, automatically ready and willing to open his wallet to get her whatever her little heart desired.
She laughed and said, “I’m not so foolish as to answer that. Let’s go inside. I want to admire, not purchase.”
He followed her inside the store where she gazed and raised fingertips that never quite touched the dazzling items displayed to tempt shoppers into parting with their disposable incomes. Her breath caught at the sight of a colored crystal hummingbird. She stopped in her tracks and feasted her eyes upon the objet d'art. Mick’s lips curved in a little smile at the naked greed in her eyes as she stared at the crystal bird.
“May I help you?” a clerk asked.
“We’ll take the hummingbird,” Mick said in a quiet tone, looking up at the hummingbird that had enthralled his wife.
The clerk nodded and replied, “That’s our display model. I’ll get one from the back.”
Mick nodded and waited while the clerk fetched his purchase. Feeling warm, he shrugged off his long-sleeved shirt, leaving the inked sleeves exposed beneath the A-line undershirt. Wadding up the shirt in his hand, he ignored the gasps and stares from the other patrons until one feminine voice squealed, “It’s Mick Hendriksen!”
Sonia glanced back, startled. She raised one eyebrow and he shrugged one shoulder. You know better than to take off your shirt in public, her dry gaze admonished him mildly. Yes, but you and I both know that I belong to you, his shrug silently replied. Her lips curled in a smile.
The clerk returned even as several patrons crowded around him asking for his autograph. He graciously signed his name on shopping bags, receipts, the backs of blank checks, and two women’s forearms. He accompanied the clerk to the cash register to pay for the crystal bird.
“Er …” the clerk began awkwardly.
“Got a scrap piece of paper?” Mick asked.
The clerk forced the cash register to spit out several inches of blank receipt tape, which he tore off and presented to Mick to sign.
“Thanks, Mick!” the clerk gushed as he finished processing the transaction. He gently put the box in a shopping bag and handed it to his famous customer.
“Thanks, man,” Mick said as he accepted the bag.
One of his fawning public sidled up beside him and, pressing her body suggestively against him, asked, “Where are you staying tonight, Mick?”
Mick sidestepped away from her and answered coolly, “With my wife.”
He walked away from her and presented the bag to Sonia. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her snugly against his side.
“Hey, babe,” he said softly as he transferred the bag to her hand. “Now you’ve got a memento for Monterrey.”
She glanced up at the hummingbird, then at him, a question in her eyes.
“Yes,” he answered the unspoken question.
“I love it,” she breathed happily.
“I know you do, sweetheart. Now let’s get out of here.”
He put a possessive hand at her lower back and guided her out of the shop. Once they were back on the sidewalk, he wrapped his arm around her and swung her around. In full view of everyone, he kissed her, one of those passionate, drugging kisses that obliterated her every thought. Flashes from cameras and smart phones taking photos accompanied lusty sighs from onlookers, mostly women who wished they could trade places with the slender, tawny-haired woman in his arms.
Lifting his head from hers, he smiled and took her hand. They resumed walking.
“Let’s go home,” Sonia said after a while as the evening grew cool and dim. Mick put his (wrinkled) shirt over her shoulders. Those goose pimples weren’t from excitement.
They returned to the truck and drove back to the cottage where his cell phone, still lying on a table where he had left it, blinked to let him know that someone had called.
“Michael Kincaid Hendriksen, call me,” his mother’s voice ordered from the digital recording.
“Ah, shit,” he muttered.
“You didn’t tell your mom you got married?” she asked, round-eyed.
“That sort of slipped my mind.”
“Our marriage slipped your mind?”
Warning bells pealed in his brain and he rushed to save himself from the abyss of ill spoken words. “Not our marriage, baby. Telling my mother.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. Funny how that one gesture could convey so much meaning and in so many tones. He raised his own eyebrow back at her and asked, “What have we mostly been doing over the past two weeks?”
She blushed and averted her gaze.
“Right,” he said in a dry tone. “Now, wouldn’t it be a real mood killer to be thinking of my mother?”
With an uneasy grin, she replied, “You’re right, Mick.”
He tugged on his earlobe and asked, “W
hat’s that? I didn’t hear you.”
With a laugh, she swatted at him and said, “You heard me just fine, so I’m not going to say it again.”
He laughed with her and picked her up, twirling around. “God, I love you,” he rasped, cupped her face, and brought his face to hers for another kiss. That led to the bedroom, the quick removal of all clothing, and playfully carnal pleasure until the playfulness burned in the fire of intense passion that only seemed to grow no matter how often they sank into each other.
“I will never get enough of you,” he vowed as he stroked deeply within her.
Chapter 10
Early the next morning Mick called his mother.
“Hey, Mom,” he said somewhat sheepishly.
“Don’t ‘hey, Mom’ me, young man,” she snapped. “Why did I, your own mother, have to find out in my Facebook newsfeed that you got married? Haven’t I loved you and treated you like my own son?”
“Mom, I am your own son. Remember? Twenty-eight hours of labor as you so like to remind me?”
She laughed and he relaxed, knowing that, although she was disappointed, she wasn’t truly angry with him. “Tell me all about her. I want to meet this girl who has so captivated my little boy.”
“Hardly little,” he murmured. He loved it when she called him that, but would have rather died than admit such. “Her name is Sonia. She rented the cottage next to mine here in Monterrey. It was … well, it was amazingly quick. But you know how you know, how it really can be love at first sight?”
Her voice softened and she said, “Yeah, I know. It was like that with your father and me.”
“That’s how I feel about her. It’s incredible. Wonderful. And a little scary.”
“Powerful love always is, sweetie,” she said. “So you married this girl?”
“The very next day,” he admitted. “I just couldn’t take the risk that she’d disappear.”
“And she must love you back.”
“She’s incredible, Mom. She inspires me. I’m writing music constantly, really good stuff. The whole band thinks so. They like her, too.”
His mother’s voice grew stern, “You need to protect her, Mick. That lifestyle you lead is not conducive to long term marital happiness.”
“I know, Mom. I know it’s going to be hard. She’s starting a new job in a couple of weeks. She’ll be working there while I’m on tour.”
“And you can’t cancel the tour, I understand,” she responded with sympathy, because her husband hadn’t been able to cancel the tour of duty that killed him. “Make sure you control yourself, Mick.”
“Mom, I’m not—”
“Not what, a horn dog?” She chuckled with sadistic humor. She well knew her son was no innocent.
“Mom!”
Undeterred by his embarrassment, she continued. “So, your girl’s got a job. What does she do?”
“She’s a chef, Mom. She’s an excellent cook, amazing. Jack’s ready to marry her just so she’ll cook for him.”
“Well, if Jack is ready to give up the swinging single life for her cooking, then she must be good,” his mother quipped with a touch of sarcasm.
“Mom,” he said in a warning tone.
“Right. I’ll be nice.” She paused, then said in a soft tone, “Mick, baby, I want to meet this girl. I’ve got some vacation days coming to me. This is a good reason to use them.”
“I’ll text you our new address in a couple of weeks,” he said.
“New address?”
“Sonia will be working in Las Vegas, so we’re moving there.”
“Vegas.”
“And I’ve got those before and after tour gigs in Vegas, too. With what I’d spend on hotels and restaurants, we can put a down payment on a house. I’ve already got Jay working on it.”
“Jay is your agent. Surely house hunting isn’t in his job description.”
“It is now.” He glanced at the doorway where Sonia stood, rubbing the back of her neck. His dick sprang to attention.
As though she could sense she’d lost his focus, she said, “Thanks for calling me, Mick. Let me know your address when you have it and I’ll come to visit you and Sonia. I’m happy for you, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Mick.”
The call ended, but Mick’s attention was already focused on taking advantage of the soft, warm, rumpled-sheets look his wife had going on. Less than two minutes later they were rumpling the sheet some more.
“I really need to eat,” Sonia murmured as they lay tangled together. She absently stroked aimless patterns on his chest even as he lapped at her nipple while one of his hands idly stroked a fingertip through her wet folds.
Mick’s eyes brightened as he looked up at her. Guessing his thoughts, Sonia chuckled and said, “And I don’t mean your dick.”
He sighed with mock regret. She inhaled deeply as he slid a long finger inside her and stroked more deeply.
“That feels good, Mick, but I’m hungry.”
“I can make you forget that,” he promised between licks to her furled nipple.
“I know you can,” she agreed breathlessly as her body began to undulate in physical demand for satisfaction. “Oh, God, Mick, fill me up, please.”
Mick crawled over her and settled between her thighs. He grasped himself by the root and rubbed his glans up and down her slit. She keened with desperate greed. With a triumphant smile, he surged forward, driving into her body.
“Hard and fast, Sonia. That’s how we’re going to do this,” he growled before crushing his mouth to hers. She opened to him, yielding instantly as he swept her mouth with his tongue even as his hips moved like pistons. With lusty expertise, he quickly drove them both to explosive climax. As they panted in the aftermath, Sonia said, “Now, I’m really hungry.”
Mick leaned over and kissed her, fondling a breast as he did so. Retreating reluctantly from her swollen lips, he said, “Take a quick shower and get dressed. I’ll cook.”
With that, he forced himself off the bed and drew on a pair of shorts. He glanced back at Sonia’s lithe, gracefully curved figure as she disappeared into the bathroom and groaned as his insatiable dick tried to harden again. The heady, compelling lust that thrummed in his veins that kept his penis in a nearly constant state of locked-and-loaded readiness overwhelmed him. He was sure it overwhelmed Sonia.
He damn near blushed when he thought of things he did to her and that she was now doing to him—and how frequently—when she’d been an innocent virgin mere weeks ago. He thought back to not so long ago when he was accepting the offers of casual sex on a regular basis and, for the life of him, could not remember any particular woman’s name or face. Not that he had often bothered with even asking their names, having discovered that endearments smoothed over that awkwardness quite satisfactorily. No woman had ever scolded him for saying “babe” or “honey” instead of her name.
He washed his sticky hands, smiling a little to himself because of the pleasurable manner in which he had gotten them sticky. He silently congratulated himself for hitting the jackpot with women as he popped some slices of bread into the toaster and cracked eggs to whisk in a bowl.
Briskly efficient, he had their simple meal plated and ready to eat when Sonia perched on a stool at the counter. She thanked him, her eyes dipping to the always-ready bulge in his pants.
“You keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you on the counter,” he warned. Or promised.
She smiled wickedly at him and dragged her gaze up his torso to his face. He felt it like a physical caress.
“We have housework to do today,” she said.
“Oh?”
“There’s only one towel left and no more clean sheets, so laundry’s a must.”
“Easy enough,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “When’s the last time you did laundry?”
“Um …” his voice trailed off.
“Right,” she said.
> “That’s why I have a housekeeper,” he said defensively.
“There are only two of us,” she pointed out. “We don’t need a housekeeper.”
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Unless I bring home half a dozen cats and dogs,” she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Unless you like pet hair as a condiment.”
Mitch faked a gag. “You wouldn’t.”
That twinkle turned evil. “Try me.”
“I’m allergic,” he lied.
“The hell you are.”
“Are we having an argument?”
“No, because I’m not mad. Yet.”
“Oh, well, good to know. You’re a little scary sometimes.”
“Me? Scary?” she laughed. She gestured toward him. “You’re the big, bad man with tattoos like a thug.”
“A thug? Me?” He growled at her and she giggled. He took a few predatory steps toward her and she backed away, still giggling. He lunged for her and she danced away with a delighted little shriek.
“I’m gonna get you!”
“You’ll have to catch me first!”
She dashed away. Mick chased after her, catching her in a few strides of his longer legs. They tumbled to the sofa where he nuzzled her neck and growled, “I’ve got you now, missy! What shall I do with you?”
She laughed breathlessly and wriggled beneath him.
“I know,” he exclaimed. And he tickled her. She laughed helplessly, then begged him to stop. He continued for a few seconds more, then obliged, just to reinforce his dominance. He stopped because he wanted to, not because she forced him. He glanced down at her breasts heaving beneath the stretchy tank top and the mood thickened, heated, and took the inevitable turn toward carnal.
Once they’d temporarily satiated that hunger and got dressed again, Sonia and Mick got to work. He vacuumed while she dusted. She swept and he mopped. She scrubbed one bathroom and he cleaned the other. The cabin wasn’t large, so house cleaning took less time than Mick would have guessed. Load after load, they washed and folded laundry.
“It’s good to have clean underwear,” she said with a little smile as they put away the last load.