Falling into Forever

by Phyllis Bourne

“Forget something?” he heard her ask through the door, before it swung open.

  Sandra held out the blue diaper bag he’d seen slung over her shoulder earlier. He watched her brown eyes widen at the sight of him.

  Before either of them had time to think, Isaiah wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She gasped as she stared up at him, and he caught the scent of cotton candy on her breath.

  “Yeah, I forgot this.”

  He leaned in and captured those pouty lips of hers—lips that had played a starring role in his dreams for four nights straight—in a kiss.

  Her mouth was everything he’d anticipated and more, pillow soft and tinged with spun sugar.

  Sandra’s hands rose to his chest, and her fingers splayed against his pecs. Isaiah braced himself for her rejection, expecting to be shoved away any minute and his kiss rebuffed.

  Instead, she fisted the collar of his jacket and tugged him closer as she parted her lips.

  The silent invitation combined with the soft, sweet taste of her mouth unleashed the pent-up desire he’d carried around for days, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her, with her.

  A groan sounded low in his throat as she pressed those luscious curves against him. Her heat enveloped him. It penetrated his clothes as if the two of them were skin on skin.

  Isaiah hardened instantly.

  His cock nudged her belly, but his tongue continued to leisurely stroke hers. Tasting, reacquainting itself with every nuance of her sexy mouth. They kissed as if the other were the cure to an illness they didn’t know they’d had.

  When they finally came up for air, he was the first one to speak. Although the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk.

  Once upon a time, he’d loved this woman as much as a teenage boy could. While he no longer loved her, he’d always care deeply for her. Enough to be crystal clear, before tonight went any further.

  He leaned down until his forehead touched hers. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I saw you at The Quarterdeck Monday night.”

  “So that was you.” She lifted her head, their eyes meeting.

  Isaiah nodded. “I’d thought I was over you. But I think of you. I dream of you...” His voice trailed off.

  He cleared his throat and began to speak from his head, not his crotch. “But for the first time in my adult life, I’m not government property. I fulfilled my duty and obligation to both my folks and Uncle Sam.”

  Isaiah knew what he had to say would probably shut down any chance of tonight going beyond their kiss, but it had to be said. “So while I want you, badly, more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman, I’m not looking for a relationship with you, with anyone.”

  Sandra’s face remained impassive as she stared up at him. Isaiah still held her flush against him. Her hands still gripped the collar of his jacket.

  And he was still hard as a rock.

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” he said finally.

  “I should send you away,” she said.

  “But you haven’t.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  She released her grip on his collar. “Because I haven’t told you what I want. But first, it’s my turn to explain.”

  Isaiah continued to relish the feel of her body against his, expecting the pleasure to be snatched away at any moment.

  Sandra’s finger slid down to the center of his chest. “Work is my man, and until I take my design business beyond Wintersage, I won’t cheat or shortchange it by diverting my attention with a relationship. Not with you, not with anyone.”

  As she spoke, Isaiah saw beyond her beauty. He saw ambition, determination and strength. It stirred up an entirely different feeling than the love he’d felt for the young Sandra or the overwhelming lust he had for the grown woman.

  Respect.

  And it made him want her even more.

  “The bottom line is you and I have unfinished business.” She tapped her index finger against his chest. “And I have no expectations beyond getting you naked and inside me.”

  Just when Isaiah thought he couldn’t get any harder, he did.

  Sandra returned both hands to his chest and pushed him away. She turned her back to him and walked through her front door.

  Automatically, Isaiah’s gaze dropped to her bare legs in that short cheerleader skirt, and he mentally calculated how quickly he could have them wrapped around his waist. She was right. Their unfinished business had been deferred long enough.

  It was time he took care of it.

  She looked back at him over her shoulder. “So are you coming in, or am I going to have to call my vibrator Isaiah all night long?”

  He followed her across the threshold, his cock leading the way. He kicked the door closed behind him with his heel as the hypnotic swish of her short skirt beckoned him farther inside.

  Visions of the Sandra from his dreams collided with the real-life fantasy and instinct took over.

  In one swift movement, Isaiah lifted her up and pinned her to the closest wall. Her arms encircled his shoulders, while he kissed her the way he intended to stroke her—long, hard and endlessly deep.

  She ground against him and their bodies moved in time with their mouths. Then, like an answer to his secret prayers, she wrapped those thick thighs around his waist.

  “God, yes,” Isaiah rasped, wresting his mouth from hers.

  He buried his face against her neck and struggled for control. Enveloped in her intoxicating scent, cotton candy mixed with an exotic bottled fragrance, he ran his tongue over the throbbing pulse point at her throat for just a tiny taste.

  Sandra gripped his head in her palms and pulled it back.

  “Bedroom?” Her question tumbled out of her mouth in a breathless pant. Her legs released their hold on his waist.

  “Not yet.”

  Despite the raging impatience of a certain part of his anatomy, Isaiah refused to rush. It had taken them too long to get here. He intended to draw this moment out all night, touching, kissing, tasting and loving every inch of her until they both were too exhausted to move.

  He slid his hands beneath her skirt until they reached the top of her barely there panties. Hooking the waistband with his fingertips, he dropped to one knee as he pulled the scrap of lace over her hips and down her legs.

  The sound of her gasp broke the heated silence.

  Sandra moved to step out of them, but he stopped her with a shake of his head.

  “I’ve got this.” He lifted her sneaker-clad foot off the floor and draped her leg over his shoulder. The move raised the hem of her skirt, exposing her goodies in full view.

  Goodies just begging to be tasted.

  Isaiah licked his lips. Then he licked her.

  “Oh, yes!” Sandra’s muffled cry filled his ears, which were snugly cradled between her thighs.

  She clasped his head in her hands and rocked against his mouth as his tongue worked her clit with long, languid strokes.

  Over and over again. As if pleasing her were his full-time job.

  Her back began to slide down the wall, and Isaiah gripped her hips to steady her. But his tongue remained on task.

  Licking.

  Flicking.

  Sucking.

  Until she shook with the tremors of her first orgasm of the night.

  Isaiah smiled to himself as he kissed her spot, knowing it certainly wouldn’t be her last.

  * * *

  Sandra sagged against the wall. Only Isaiah’s firm grip on her hips kept her from dissolving into a puddle of goo on the hardwood floor of her entryway.

  She sighed contentedly as he gently lifted her wobbly leg from his shoulder and returned her foot to the floor.

  He stood
and brushed his lips against hers in the softest of kisses. His breath was warm on her face, and she could taste herself on his mouth.

  Their gazes connected and a smile played at Isaiah’s lips. “Yum.” He uttered the single word in a low whisper that sent aftershocks straight to her core. The full length of his erection pressed against her belly, pinning her back to the wall. Long, thick and hard enough to jackhammer through concrete.

  The delicious feel of him turned the satisfaction he’d delivered with his tongue into a distant memory. All she could think about now was the dull ache between her thighs and him filling it.

  ASAP.

  Sandra pushed him away, but only far enough for her to undo the top button on his jeans. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she struggled to lower the zipper over the thick bulge.

  Isaiah hissed an expletive through his teeth, before gently pushing her fumbling fingers aside.

  “If your hand brushes against me one more time, this is going to be over before it even starts,” he said.

  He undid the zipper, and Sandra wasted no time shoving his jeans and underwear down to his knees.

  Yum. His own word echoed through her head as she stared down at his hard cock. Tearing her eyes away, she met his gaze, and just like when they were teenagers, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

  She shook her head from side to side, nixing his thought of continuing this in her bedroom. The minute it would take to get there was sixty seconds too long.

  “Right here,” she demanded. “Right now.”

  Sandra pulled herself from the wall. Crossing her arms, she reached for the hem of her top and dragged it up and over her head. Her nipples beaded inside the minuscule cups of her demi-bra at Isaiah’s appreciative glance. Not to mention his impressive below-the-waist salute.

  A lazy half smile, which she found incredibly sexy, crossed his face. He quickly shed his pants, retrieving a condom from his wallet and then tossing the wallet aside.

  He placed the foil packet in her palm. “Hold on to this for me.” His eyes dropped to the red lace barely covering her breasts. “I’ve got other matters to attend to.”

  Leaning in, Isaiah pressed a kiss to the V between her breasts, before undoing the front clasp of her bra with his teeth.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said once her breasts were fully exposed. “Every damn inch of you.”

  He started in on one breast, and then went to the other, paying each the same rapt attention he’d given her clit.

  Licking.

  Flicking.

  Sucking.

  Sandra moaned his name as she writhed against his cock. Each caress of his hands and tongue made her heart pound and elicited cries of pleasure in rough guttural utterances she barely recognized as her own.

  Pinned between the wall and his hard body, she reveled in the erotic confinement, her senses overwhelmed by his touch, his groans, his scent. Everything Isaiah.

  Never had Sandra craved a man as much as she desired this one, and she doubted she ever would again.

  “Isaiah, please,” she begged, when it all became too much and at the same time not enough.

  Isaiah covered her mouth with his, dragging her tongue into a slow, deep kiss. Meanwhile, his hands responded to her desperate plea. He lifted her skirt, parting her thighs with his fingers before inserting one inside her.

  Sandra gasped at the intimate invasion. The foil edges of the condom packet dug into her palm as she fisted it in her hand.

  “You feel so good,” Isaiah rasped against her ear, propelling her pulse into a wild, erratic rhythm. “So hot and tight.” His shadow of beard scraped against her cheek as he faced her, while his index finger continued to slide in and out of her wetness. “I’ve ached to touch you like this for so long and already it’s exceeded any fantasy.”

  Their gazes connected, and Sandra stroked her hand down the side of his face.

  “You’ve always been my fantasy,” she admitted, staring into his intense dark eyes.

  “I think we’ve both wasted enough time on fantasies.” Isaiah withdrew his finger, and Sandra licked her lips in anticipation.

  Though they’d lived separate lives for the past decade, it felt as if they’d waited a lifetime for this moment.

  Isaiah took the packet from her hand, ripped it open with his teeth and quickly rolled the condom on. He clasped her wrists in one large hand and raised her arms over her head.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  Supported by the wall behind her, Sandra did as he bade. She gasped as she slowly lowered herself down on him inch by delectable inch.

  God, he felt good. So incredibly good.

  “Wait.” Sandra froze and closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of finally having him inside her.

  “You okay?” Isaiah asked.

  She opened her eyes and stared into his. “I just needed a second to catch my breath, before I take the ride of my life.”

  Chapter 8

  Isaiah awoke before dawn the next morning with every intention of quietly slipping out of Sandra’s bed, finding his clothes and going home.

  They’d made their feelings clear last night. Neither of them were interested in a relationship or anything beyond sex.

  Damn good sex, he thought. Images from just hours ago played through his mind.

  Which probably accounted for him standing in her pitifully stocked kitchen with two grocery bags after a quick trip to the store. Sandra’s kitchen, like the rest of her small house, was decorated in a bold, graphic, black-and-white scheme accented with unexpected jolts of color, mostly red or vivid yellow.

  Isaiah had been too preoccupied with the woman to notice their surroundings last night, but in the light of day he found himself admiring her tastes. Her home managed to give off both a bright and at the same time serene vibe.

  He liked it.

  Isaiah opened one of the white cupboard doors and replaced the expired granola bars he’d found there earlier with a fresh box. The stale ones had been the only edible thing on the nearly barren shelves, which contained only mugs and coffee.

  Her refrigerator had been empty, too, with the exception of a few bottles of water.

  Cooking breakfast was the least he could do after the way he’d shown up on her doorstep last night, Isaiah reasoned. He was hungry anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. He started the coffeemaker while bacon sizzled in the skillet he’d picked up at the store. When he heard Sandra stirring in the bedroom, he added a few eggs.

  “Did I die and wake up in heaven?”

  Isaiah turned away from the stove to see her standing in front of the breakfast bar. His breath caught at the sight of her wrapped in a red silk robe, and he had to remind himself to exhale. Her pretty face was scrubbed free of makeup. The silky hair he’d tangled his fingers in as they’d made love throughout the night was pulled up in a haphazard ponytail.

  “Are you referring to me or the bacon and coffee?” he asked.

  Sandra smiled. Now Isaiah knew why he’d returned to her house with groceries. One look from her and he suddenly felt the warmth of her delicious curves pressed against him last night. Her touch. Her taste.

  Sandra’s voice corralled his wayward thoughts before he gave in to the urge to throw her over his shoulder and take her back to the bed she’d just left.

  “Food and a good-looking man cooking are unheard of in my kitchen,” she said.

  “Obviously.” Isaiah used the new spatula to scoop bacon and eggs onto two waiting plates. “How do you manage to feed yourself?”

  Sandra seated herself at the breakfast bar. “I don’t. Most of my meals are on the go.” She looked down at the plate he put in front of her, and her eyes brightened. “I’d forgotten you know how to cook.”

  In high school, they’d
often done their homework or worked on a project for art class at each other’s houses. When they’d gone to Sandra’s house, the Woolcotts’ cook and housekeeper, Milly, had whipped up an after-school snack. At his house, he’d prepared them something quick to eat.

  “I just remembered you don’t.” A chuckle escaped Isaiah’s lips as he poured coffee into yellow mugs and slid one across the black granite countertop to her. Memories of the Woolcotts’ kitchen after the microwaved oatmeal incident came back to him.

  Sandra rolled her eyes and scrunched up her face. “Don’t remind me. My pride and my noncooking skills have me in enough trouble right now.”

  “Trouble?” Isaiah asked from across the breakfast bar.

  “Long story.” She picked a slice of bacon from her plate and took a bite. She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. “God, I really am in heaven. This is delicious.” She polished off the piece of bacon and immediately reached for a second.

  “It’s the least I could do for my favorite cheerleader,” he said, before helping himself to a forkful of eggs.

  Sandra averted her eyes as a small, incredibly endearing smile graced her lips. The expression reminded him of the teenage girl he once knew as well as he knew himself.

  “So want to tell me about it?” he asked.

  The woman on the other side of the breakfast bar was all about her plate. She swallowed the shovelful of eggs she’d stuffed into her mouth, and chased it with more bacon. Isaiah doubted she even heard his question.

  “Excuse my manners. It’s just that I can’t remember the last time I had a real breakfast,” Sandra said, between mouthfuls. Finally, she looked up at him. “Did you just ask me something?”

  Isaiah moved his bacon from his plate to hers. “You mentioned being in trouble a few minutes ago. Need to talk about it?”

  Sandra exhaled. Her shoulders slumped a notch, the subtle movement stirring up unwarranted protective instincts inside him.

  “Like I said, it’s a long story. I don’t want to bother you with it.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

  Isaiah knew he should leave it alone. It was none of his business. Yet sitting down and having a conversation with her after so many years took him back to the days when they could tell each other anything.