“Okay, okay!” I travel up her body—licking. Finally, my eyes meet hers and it just washes over me.
“Don’t say it,” she whispers looking straight back. How did she know? How did she know it was on the tip of my tongue? I close my eyes.
I love you.
“Okay.” I say instead. I lean down and collect her lips. She brings her legs up higher, encircling my waist.
“Please,” she begs against my lips. Just a little shift and I thrust into her. Her body arches like it always does. I take her slow and deep, showing her how much I love her instead of telling her. Every time she opens her mouth to oppose my pace, I shut it with mine. Finally . . . she gives in and regulates her hips to my pace.
After several minutes, CiCi starts clenching down on me. I groan in appreciation. “Oh God . . . Oh, Kyle!” she moans sinking her nails into my back. Her legs, shaking, around my waist. I let go, pounding into her harder—finding my release. I should mention that she was egging me on, telling me how good her pussy will feel, loaded with my come. I know, right? How could I hold it any longer? I collapse on her chest and we lay her like this for several minutes. It’s soothing—listening to her breathe, feeling her in my arms—I’m in heaven.
I look up at her. She greets me with a warm smile. “I love you.” There—I said it.
“I’m so in love with you,” she admits with shaky breath. I reach up and palm her face before I caress her lips. Somehow, when I kiss her this time—so different. Good different. Forever different. I reach under and engulf her in my arms, nestling my head on her chest . . .
Mom’s been in the hospital a few days now and they’ve finally moved her into a regular room. CiCi, Lindsay, and I are on our way up to visit her. “I hope her roommate isn’t a douchebag,” CiCi says.
“I’m sure you’ll find reason to believe she is.” I tease her. She laughs then elbows me. I have to say—I’m the happiest I can ever remember being. CiCi and I have been amazing. In and out of the bedroom, of course. “Best behavior, please,” I beg as we enter the room.
“Yeah . . . sure.” She laughs.
“Hey, Mom!” I greet her, overzealously paired with a huge grin as we walk in.
“Oh, Kyle, knock it off! I’m fine!” Her hands push away nonsense at us.
“How do you like your new room?” CiCi asks.
“Love it,” Mom says cheerfully. She then mouths “Pain in the ass” and points to the person on the other side of the curtain. I’ll tell you right now; this person must be bad if my mother is saying something like this. It’s either that or surgery has changed her. In all fairness, we can hear her whimpering and complaining.
“What’s going on over here?” CiCi walks over and asks.
“Ceese!” I say in a hushed whisper.
“I’m sorry, Miss, my mother is having a hard time adapting.” The gentleman says.
“What’s wrong, ma’am?”
“Ceese!” I try again. All she does is draw back the curtain.
“How can I live?” The woman cries.
“What happened?” CiCi inquires.
“They want me to be all sunshine and flowers when this is my life now!” The woman screams.
“What’s up, buttercup?” CiCi continues. Christ, I wish she would just come back over here.
“Look at this!” she yells and pulls back her covers. I look because how the fuck can I not? And I see that she has had her foot amputated. “They want me to carry on like life is so wonderful! They are all avoiding what has happened to me, as if I’m supposed to forget! Look!” she yells. “What do you see, miss?” She points at her missing foot.
“It looks to me like you have one foot in the grave,” CiCi says without any hesitation. I want to fucking die right now. I’m just not sure if it will be from embarrassment or laughter. The woman just stares at her for a while and then, she breaks out in such a hearty laugh it seems to scare her family. “You know, I know a great nail tech. I’m sure she will give you half off. I mean, you are giving her half the work, right?” CiCi offers. The woman is rolling.
“Thank you, miss.” The woman is practically in tears—serious ones this time. “Thank you for stating the obvious. These bozos are acting as if nothing happened, like I would forget if they did so.” She reaches to hug CiCi. I laugh to myself, knowing inner CiCi is cringing right now. But my girl does it; she goes in for the hug. I’m a proud man, right now.
She makes her way back over to us. “I love you,” I say in awe. She blows me a kiss and gives me a wink.
“Backatcha, handsome!” I love how open she’s been about her feelings. I’m just as scared, though.
“This makes my heart so happy; seeing you two.” Mom smiles at both of us.
“I don’t think you’re alone there, Mom.” I grab her hand and kiss the back of it.
“I knew from the moment I met you, CiCi.” Mom reaches out her hand to her. CiCi gives her a shy smile and pushes her hair behind her ear. There’s something so sweet and innocent about her when she gets embarrassed like this. “You’re really made from special stuff.”
“Thanks, I’ll tell my dad you said so,” she replies. And . . . there it goes, as quickly as it came. Mom smacks the back of her hand, teasingly. “So when are we busting you out of this joint?”
“Well, if I’m a good girl, they said maybe tomorrow.”
“You better behave yourself then!”
Mom just lies there, staring at us. She grabs my hand with her free one and brings it together with Ceese’s. We both sit on the bed, on either side of her, holding hands on her lap. “I can’t tell you how heart happy I am, right now.” She tears up.
“Oh no, we’re not doing any tears, lady. We purposely came in at this hour because it’s the no crying hour.” CiCi shakes her head.
“I love you,” Mom says through her free running tears, completely ignoring CiCi’s comment.
“I love you, too, Winnie Cooper. I have a question, though.”
“What’s that, dear?”
“You say you love me but . . . what would you do if I sang out of tune?”
“I’d sing back up . . . just as badly.” She laughs.
“I wish I met you last year.”
“Why?” Mom laughs apprehensively. We’ve all gotten used to CiCi’s quips. You never really know what is going to come out of her mouth.
“Because, I would’ve totally thrown you a twenty-fifth anniversary party! I mean twenty-five years of having a name that is the pun of many a cheesy joke—that’s epic!” She whips her hand out to emphasize.
“Well, we’ll do it for the thirtieth!” Mom suggests. CiCi gets quiet. I have a feeling I know why. Mom just implied that CiCi will still be here with me in four years, without question. I can’t imagine anyone else in her shoes. The question is—does she? She fought her feelings for me for so long that it’s hard for me to squash these insecurities that rise.
“You promise me that you will do everything in your power to make sure you’re here for it and I promise you that people will talk about that party for years.” CiCi’s voice shakes. My heart just did a flip in my chest. Her hesitation had nothing to do with her being unsure about us and everything to do with worry over my mother’s health.
“No expense spared,” I add before planting a kiss on Ceese’s shoulder.
“Why is everybody crying?” Linz asks once she sees us.
“Where did you go?” I ask her as I wipe my unshed tears away.
“With Daddy to the gift shop. I bought Mickey this stuffed animal last time and he already tore it into shreds. He cried for it today but I had thrown it away.” She waves the puppy at us. “Why are you all crying? Is everything ok, Mom?” She furrows her brow.
“Everything is fine, Linz,” I answer for our mother. “We’re all just really happy to be together and to be family.” As I say this, I squeeze Ceese’s hand so she knows I’m including her in on this statement. She squeezes back and kisses my cheek.
“Speaking of
family, Kyle and I want to have everyone over for dinner when you’re feeling better. I want you to meet my parents. You’ve already met my sister. Also, she’ll be the one cooking—you two can bark recipes out at each other like it’s a competition.” She reaches for Mom’s pillow. “Sit up,” she commands. Mom sits up and CiCi fixes the sheet on it and flips it before returning it behind my mother. “There.” She holds it until mom rests back.
“I’d love that! I’ve heard wonderful things about your parents.” Mom beams.
“They are awesome. I’m really lucky. I can see you all hitting it off.”
Just then, my phone rings. I look down and see that it’s the P.I. in Washington; the one I hired to find Drew. My search results didn’t get me much further than the state he was living in. Not sure why, I’ve never come across that problem before. Don’t ask me what I plan on doing with all of this information because I really don’t know. Whatever it is, it can’t be something that will fuck up my relationship with her. I won’t lose her over this piece of shit. Yes, I know I should wait for her to be ready to tell me what happened—I will. I just need to know where this son of a bitch is for when she does. “I gotta take this, beautiful.” I give her a quick kiss before letting go of her hand and heading out of the room.
“Cooper,” I state when I answer. No, I don’t normally answer my phone like this; but being in P.I. mode, I feel it’s fitting. Simmons begins to fill me in on his findings. I listen while quietly asking the nurse for a pen and paper. I see why it was hard to dig up much info on him; Simmons believes his job with military defense gave him top clearance. He’s not even sure of his exact title. He was able to uncover that Drew is married with two daughters. The last piece of information he gives floors me. “Okay, thanks, Simmons, I’ll send the rest of your payment now.” And with that, I hang up.
“Hey, sweetie,” CiCi calls out to me. Sweetie?—that’s nice. “Your mom wants to take a nap, are you done with your call?” She walks over to me. “Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t have to fly somewhere, do you?” I can hear the panic in her voice at that possibility.
“No. Sorry. I just got news that I wasn’t expecting on a lead. It’s ok, though, nothing to worry about.” I open my arms to her, wrapping them around once she walks into my space. I stand here and hold her for a few minutes. I always wanted to feel this way about someone, I just wasn’t sure it was ever going to happen. It’s amazing; the best feeling in the world.
“C’mon, let’s say goodbye to your mom so she can get some sleep.” She looks up at me.
“Sure thing.” I kiss her.
I love mornings . . . you know why?
Lick.
Lick. Kiss. Lick.
Bite.
Groan and repeat.
“Jesus, Kyle—Jesus!” she screams out. Mmm . . . she’s awake—it’s on now! My arms slide underneath her thighs and wrap around. I pull back on her hood and have at her. And by that, I mean aggressive tongue fucking—just the way she likes it. I chuckle lightly as she goes all Linda Blair, thrashing on her end of things. And now . . . the back massage. Ahh . . . What’s that, you ask? Mmm . . . CiCi always rests her feet on my back when I do this. And, for some reason, when she gets close, she starts rubbing them up and down my back like she’s actually climbing a rope. It not only cues me that she’s close, but it also gives me an awesome massage. Of course, she denies that she does this. I don’t argue with her because I’m not really interested in her not doing it.
She whimpers.
You have no idea the power her whimpers hold over me. It takes everything in me not to come on the spot. This morning, I’m pulling out the big guns to prevent the inevitable—I picture the real life cat lady. You know the one I’m talking about; she had all of those surgeries to look like a cat. She creeps me out.
Whimper. Cry. Begging whimper.
I tear myself away from her and off the bed. I pace and take deep breaths with my hands on top of my head. I bring my attention back to her when I hear her moan. Her hand is in between her legs, rubbing ferociously as her pelvis rises like she’s fucking the air. Good God, she’s beautiful. I rush over to her and pull her hand away as soon as I climb on the bed, kneeling before her. I wrap her legs around my waist and slam into her. She gasps as if someone is cutting off her air supply. Like a fucking teenage boy, getting a piece of ass for the first time, I unload inside of her in the matter of a few fast pumps. It’s all good, though; she was already there, and I just sealed the deal, hitting her in the right spot. I collapse on top of her. “What you fucking do to me, CiCi—what you fucking do,” I pant.
“Do you know what you do?” She matches my rapid breathing. “You give good tongue fuck, Kyle—good tongue fuck.”
I look up at her and bite back my smile. “I’m glad you’re happy with my services, ma’am.”
“Yes. You are the best alarm clock I’ve ever owned.” She wipes my sweaty bangs off my forehead.
“Oh, you own me now?” I laugh lightly.
“I’ve got the receipt around here somewhere.”
“You kept the receipt? Why, in case you want to return me?”
“Psh yeah! What if you break? Other than that, you’re a tax write-off.”
“First of all, if I break, it’ll be your fault what with how hard you ride my cock sometimes. Second of all, how am I a tax write-off?” I play along. I love the shit that comes out of her mouth. She never has to stop and think; it just flies right out as if she’s rehearsed it a million times.
“First of all, you’re the best riding cock I’ve ever had.” She winks. See how that shit just flies. Instead of riding crop—cock; amazing. “Second of all, you’re a tax write-off because you are medicine to my soul—healing me. Everyday my heart gets stronger, more trusting—freer. I love you, Kyle. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.” She lightly plays with my hair, avoiding my eyes.
“Marry me.” Holy fuck—I just said that out loud, didn’t I? I am completely in awe at what she just said to me. I wasn’t expecting that at all. I think it clouded my judgment. Oh, I definitely want her to be my wife—don’t get me wrong. I’m just afraid that asking that simple, yet fully loaded, question may just be the thing that sets us back. The fact that I have all of this time to have these thoughts, because she’s not saying anything, pretty much confirms my fear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . let’s just get up and take our shower. We have to get the turkeys in the oven. Everybody’s going to be here in a few hours,” I ramble on.
“Yes.”
I take in a quick, shaky breath. “What?”
“Yes.” She palms my face. “Yes. I would love nothing more than to be your wife.” She leans in and kisses me. I pull back, feeling unsure of what just happened. That’s that insecurity rising again. “Kyle, I mean it.”
“I . . . um . . . holy shit, Ceese. Holy shit! You said yes!” I practically yell as I get up on my knees.
“I did,” she laughs.
I jump out of bed and pace with what I’m sure is the biggest, goofiest grin I have ever made. “Holy shit. Shit! Shit! Shit! I can’t believe it!! Wooo hooo!” I scream and do a double fist pump (get your mind out of the gutter!). CiCi lies back, watching me and laughing. “Who should we call? We should call our moms!” I rush to my phone.
“Wait—no!” She sits up quickly. “Hold on there, killer. Let’s just . . . can we just keep this to ourselves right now, please?”
“Why?” Yeah . . . I just snapped at her. Can you blame me?
“I want it to just be our little secret for right now. I want to keep it to ourselves. Not long, though, I promise.”
“No.”
“No?” She moves her legs to the side of the bed.
“No,” I confirm. “If we tell people, then it’s real, and that’s why you don’t want to say anything.”
“That’s not fair, Kyle,” she says with defeat in her voice.
“Given your history with me, I think it’s very fair.”<
br />
“So, basically, you trust in me—in my love for you—enough to ask me to marry you. But, you don’t trust in me enough to know that I mean what I say?”
“This has nothing to do with trust issues,” I retort.
“Uh, yeah . . . it actually does.” She gets up, her face red with frustration (or it could still be residual from the orgasm, who knows?) as she storms by me and into the bathroom.
I think I have just been involved in the shortest engagement ever.
Go ahead and congratulate me—I’ll wait.
“Ceese?” I call out as I follow her in. She’s already under the shower. Damn if that’s not the best silhouette I’ve ever seen. She ignores me. She might not have heard me under the showerhead but ignoring me seems more dramatically correct for this situation. Okay, I really see why she calls me Mr. Spock now.
I open the door to the shower and walk in behind her. My hands slide down her sides and rest on her hips. I lay my forehead down on the top of her head and let the water pour over me, forming awkward streams on my face.
I don’t ever want to know what it feels like to lose her.
CiCi takes in a sharp, whimpering gasp before turning around and into my arms. We stand like this, holding each other, for several minutes—in silence. Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. I think it’s very clear how we feel. Words would’ve ruined our moment.
The idea for hosting Thanksgiving came to us in an inebriated state. Yes, it would be awesome to have twenty-one people and four dogs here all day! Don’t you think so? We’ve been jokingly cringing over this but I know we’re both happy to have our family around. CiCi is kind of down that her other sisters and families won’t be able to make it. She’s been talking about them a lot lately. The drift between the girls really bothers her.
The sisters that are coming, besides Charley, are the GEGs. Sometimes I’m really in awe at how these five women can still be so close after all these years, especially with the way they talk to each other. But, it’s their own brand of crazy and it really wears well on them.
“It will be a miracle if today doesn’t end up a hot mess,” she says as she closes the oven and turns around, leaning up against it.
In the Mix Page 25