by S. Moose
Her voice brings me out of my thoughts. I walk over to her and place a kiss on top of her head before settling down next to her.
When I take her hand in mine, I find the words I need to say, and I explain my history with Jennifer. “Jennifer and I were in love once upon a time, and we made an incredible son. After she gave birth, she changed, and it was her postpartum depression. Over the years, she has gotten better, but while we were together, she was a stay-at-home wife and mom. She gave up her career, but resented every minute. When we divorced, we agreed I’d give her money for Dawson and Dawson alone. She didn’t argue for more or try to take anything of mine. Our divorce was amicable.”
“I’m glad that you two are great,” she says as she looks down. “I get the feeling she’s going to cause problems. I like you a lot, and I don’t want her to come between us.”
“She won’t, and if she does, we’ll handle it together. I hope you know I’m in this all the way, and with that, you have my trust, honesty, and patience. I know you want to take this slow, and I can do that because I want this with you.”
“I want this with you, too, and I’m glad you’re willing to take it slow.”
“Can I kiss you now?”
When she nods, I don’t hesitate. Kissing her is everything I desire. The way our lips move together in complete rhythm and the way she feels against my body overwhelm me. I’ve been with and kissed many women, but kissing Reagan is different.
My cock immediately gets hard, and I move back a little. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. But, fuck, I need her and want to be inside her.
I break our kiss and place a soft kiss against her lips. Her eyes slowly flutter open.
“You’d better get going because, if we continue doing this, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
The smile and blush on her face warm me.
“Text me when you get home, okay?”
“I will.” She leans up and kisses me, cupping my face, and then she walks onto the elevator.
After Reagan leaves, I clean up the apartment, get a load of laundry started and watch the news before getting ready for bed.
I'm thinking about Reagan and wishing she were here. I know she wants to take things slow and I'm trying. There's so much about her I want to know and so much of me I want to open up to her.
I'm in bed when my phone dings, alerting me of a new text message. It’s Reagan, and I can’t stop the smile on my face.
Fuck, I’m a pussy.
Reagan: I’m home.
Me: Thank you for letting me know. I’m thinking about my parents’ suggestion on hiring a driver. Chicago can be a little off at night, and I don’t want you to have to hail a cab or drive.
Reagan: Don’t do me any special favors.
Me: It’ll be for my and Dawson’s benefit, too. Your safety means everything to me. Chicago’s traffic can be unfriendly and busy for someone who isn’t used to it. I’ll hire a driver in a few days, and I’d like to pick you up, so we can ride to work together. If you ever need to go somewhere, then you call my driver, whoever I hire.
Reagan: I appreciate what you’re doing, but don’t you think we’re going fast? I know you have money, and that’s great. You and your family have worked hard. Don’t take pity on me.
Me: Reagan, I’m doing no such thing. When I get a driver, he will drive you wherever you need. I’m not risking you getting hurt.
Reagan: I won’t be winning this argument, will I?
Me: No.
Reagan: Fine, I concede.
Me: Thank you. Now, go to bed. My parents won’t be in the office until a little later tomorrow, so their driver can take us to work. I’ll see you at 7:15 a.m.
Reagan: Yes, sir.
When I read sir, my dick gets hard again. I imagine her begging me to fuck her, calling me sir, and telling me how bad she’s been.
I release my hard cock and move my hand up and down my shaft, picturing Reagan’s small hand wrapped around my dick, applying some pressure and moaning. Her moans would be soft and feminine. I start imagining her pussy. Does she shave, or is there a landing strip? She doesn’t seem to be a screamer, but she seems passionate, and I think sex with Reagan would be explosive.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I come on my stomach.
Reaching over, I grab a few tissues and wipe myself before checking my phone again.
Reagan: I’m going to bed soon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again for being there for me and for explaining your past. I like that you can open up to me.
Me: Maybe you can do the same. I won’t push you. Ever. Sleep well, beautiful.
Reagan: I will. Night, handsome.
I’ve finished my meeting, and I walk over to the bar and pour myself a glass of scotch. Rolling my neck, I finish the drink and pour another. The meeting, which lasted for over two hours, was a shit show. I’ll need to work this weekend and cancel my plans with Dawson. My company is my life, but Dawson’s my world. I also know that, without this job, we wouldn’t be able to live the way we do, and Dawson wouldn’t be attending the city’s best private school or experiencing a life without worry.
My office door opens, and in walks Jennifer. She shuts the door and turns my way. The scowl on her face is evident. I don’t have time for her bullshit. I’ve been trying to reach her these past two days. Every attempt has gone unanswered.
“What is it?”
“What the fuck is going on here?” she asks.
“Excuse me? I’ve been trying to contact you. You’re the one ignoring me. I don’t need to have Dawson asking me what a gold-digging whore is and be worried about Reagan. It’s bullshit, Jennifer. Where do you come off, saying that? What has she done to you?”
Jennifer reaches into her purse and tosses a file on my desk. “You might want to make sure you know who the fuck you’re fucking and bringing into our son’s life. She’s not who you think she is. The girl isn’t stable. There’s a record of her checking herself into a rehab facility for six months. What? Is she a damn addict?”
I ignore her and the file. Reagan has a past. We all do. Whenever she’s ready to talk to me about it, then I’ll be here.
“How did you get this?”
Jennifer rolls her eyes. “I pay my PI a lot of money to get me the information I need, so trust me, it’s credible.”
“We’re not discussing this. And, not that it’s any of your business, but her drug tests before she was hired all came back clean. She’s not a fucking addict.”
“I’m trying to watch out for you and our son. Don’t let her pussy blind you.”
“Again, not that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t had sex. I like her. She’s real, and she’s good to our son. You should be happy.”
She walks over to me and runs her fingers down my chest. I push her away and create distance between us.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m not used to this. I promise, I’ll try to accept you're dating, and no more talking shit about her. Maybe I should get to know her and do a girls’ lunch or something.”
“I’d like that, Jennifer. Even though we aren’t together, you still mean a lot to me. Our past doesn’t get erased because we’re done. You’re the mother to our son, and I respect you in that aspect.”
“As I do, you. I’m off though. Please just be careful, okay?”
“No need to be, but, yes, I will.”
Jennifer leaves my office, and I soon follow.
It’s Saturday morning, and I’m looking at a disappointed Dawson. I feel like the world’s worst father. My phone vibrates, and it’s Reagan.
Reagan: I just left your mom’s, and Remy told me to tell you he’s on the way as well. Do you need anything?
An idea comes to me.
Me: Is there any way you can take Dawson to the zoo? There’s a new exhibit he’s been dying to see, and I can’t take him.
Reagan: Of course, babe. I’ll take him.
Me: You’re the best. Thank you.
Reagan: Seri
ously, no worries.
22
Reagan
“What are they doing?”
I turn around and look toward the exhibit just in time to see the male chimpanzee mount the smaller female. I quickly look back to Dawson, only to find him completely focused on the scene before him.
I contemplate covering his eyes or somehow distracting him. I mean, how am I supposed to explain this to a six-year-old?
I can see it now. Hey, Drew. Sorry, but your son now understands how baby chimpanzees are made.
A sense of panic shoots through me, and I say the first thing that comes to mind, “He’s keeping her warm.”
Dawson’s head tilts to the side, as if he is trying to view them from a different angle. “But it’s hot outside,” he finally says, only furthering my discomfort.
“Yes, but they are used to much hotter weather.” I look around, as if I’m magically going to find someone or something to help me through this. “So, even though it's hot to us, chimpanzees are cold.”
“But why are the others not cold?” Dawson asks.
My mind begins to race as I try to think of what to say. Why me? The very first time I’m alone with Dawson, and this happens.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
Dawson finally looks away from the chimps that are going to town on one another, the female scratching at the male.
"Yes!" He grabs my hand and we find the food area.
Dawson's looking at the menu and I think it's the cutest thing ever. He's stroking his chin and has one hand resting on his elbow as if he's in deep thought.
"Do you know what you want?"
"Chicken fingers, french fries, chips, and a snack. Is that okay Reagan?"
"Of course, buddy."
After I put in the order for food and get it, we walk over to an empty table and eat lunch. Dawson's talking about the animals and how he really wants to feed the giraffes.
"I'm sure we can do that, buddy. I'll check the map and we'll follow it."
"Like we're on an adventure?"
"Exactly!"
"Awesome," he happily yells.
When we're done eating lunch, I take out the map and we go on our adventure. In less than fifteen minutes Dawson asks for another snack so we find a food cart and he rattles off his order to the worker.
I realize that Drew might kill me today with all the food Dawson’s eating. When the worker hands Dawson his order and I pay, I see he has a large slushy in one hand and a caramel apple on a stick in the other. How could I say no to him and his adorable face? I'm sure Drew will see the bright side to the situation and laugh with us.
“I really want to go back and see the chimpanzees!"
"Why, buddy?"
Before he can answer my phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I take Dawson's hand since he's done with his apple and keep him to my side. I reach around to my back pocket and pull my phone out.
Drew: That shade of green looks gorgeous on you. It almost matches your beautiful eyes.
For a moment, I stare at the screen. Then, it hits me, and I begin looking around from one side to another. Then, I see him, and my mouth grows dry. A conversation we shared once before regarding his wardrobe comes to mind, which makes me smile uncontrollably.
Dawson tugs on the edge of my shorts, but I can’t look away from Drew. He moves across the empty space, his eyes locked on mine.
Just before he reaches us, I hear Dawson holler out, “Daddy,” dropping his slushy and leaping into his arms.
He’s wearing a pair of cargo shorts, an Army green-colored shirt, and sneakers. The V-neck shirt shows off his muscular biceps and hugs his broad shoulders. And he’s wearing a baseball cap. I’m not sure how he’s able to take a casual outfit and look as though he’s walking the runway. I can’t look away. In a suit and tie, Drew’s unbelievably handsome, but in relaxed attire…
Holy fucking hell.
“Hi,” he says with a gleam in his eyes.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. Drew Powers is a man of many talents, one being that of making a woman weak in the knees.
“Hello,” I offer with a smile. “What a surprise,” I add, “but a very pleasant one.”
“I tried working”—Drew lowers Dawson to the ground—“but the only thing I kept thinking about was you and Dawson here, at the zoo, smiling and laughing and enjoying the day without me, and I realized nothing would be better than being right here with you two.”
I forget that we’re not alone as I reach out and press my hand to his chest, moving in closer. Acting out visions of pressing my lips and body to his, allowing him to devour me, sounds pretty damn good. Before I can react to those temptations, I remember that the little man’s watching us.
“I should warn you that Dawson's had a lot to eat,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Oh, has he,” he replies.
"Yeah! Reagan got me all this food and she never said no."
Dawson pulls on Drew's hand, trying to drag him toward more of the exhibits.
"Dad! Come on!"
Drew turns to me, "How much food did he have?"
I shrug. "It's best not to tell you."
"Wonderful," he mutters and the three of us follow Dawson through the zoo.
"By the way," Drew leans in to me, whispering in my ear, "You're so beautiful."
The lustful look in his eyes constricts my breathing. One look from a man has never made me feel the things Drew does. In his presence, I feel beautiful and desired. I realize that having him look at me as if he wants to take me away from here and have his way doesn’t terrify me, only intrigues me.
So often since I’ve met Drew, I’ve wondered what it would be like to have his hands on me.
As we stand in line, waiting for our ice cream, Drew stands with his hand on the small of my back. His fingertips slowly glide from side to side, causing my eyes to flutter shut. By the time I’m holding my dish, I’m practically panting.
“Are you okay?” Drew asks in a husky tone.
When I look up at him, I find him smirking. He doesn’t need me to tell him the effect he has on me. He knows.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, trying my best to sound confident.
I know by the look his face, he doesn't buy it, but I don’t let it stop me from moving away, my shoulders squared, doing my very best to appear unfazed.
Avoiding eye contact with Drew, I find a small table and lead Dawson toward it. Just as Drew joins us, Dawson picks that point to rehash the events I wish he'd forget.
“Do you know the chimpanzees are always cold?”
I pause with my spoon midair, only a few inches from my mouth. My eyes are wide with surprise and possible fear. Still, I don’t look toward Drew or Dawson.
“Is that so?” Drew asks.
“Yep,” Dawson responds energetically. “Reagan told me that.”
It’s then I look up to find Drew giving me a questionable look. I shrug and refocus on my ice cream.
“That boy monkey was lying on top of the girl, wiggling around real fast to keep her warm,” Dawson adds, making me choke on the bite I just took.
Drew, of course, begins to tap on my back, and when I look up at him, I find him doing his best to hold back his laughter.
“Always cold, huh?” he asks.
“It was all I could come up with at the time,” I explain. “I panicked. I did the best I could.”
“I know, baby.”
And he places his arm around my shoulders as we watch Dawson finish his ice cream before calling for us to get up, so we can watch the next show.
I stand in the doorway of Dawson’s bedroom, watching Drew tickle his son. His giggles filtering throughout the room make me smile uncontrollably. Each moment with the two of them makes me fall for each of them a little harder.
Drew isn’t the man I thought he was. He’s overbearing and strong, in need of control, but kind and sweet, too.
“Did you enjoy yourself today, buddy?” he asks Dawson.
I find myself just as eager to hear his response.
“Yes.” The instant the word leaves his lips, a sudden rush of joy hits me. “Reagan's fun.”
“Yes, she is fun.” Drew looks up, and a smile tugs on his lips. “You get some sleep, and tomorrow, we’ll find something else fun to do,” Drew assures him as he leans over and gives him a kiss on his forehead. “I love you, Dawson.”
“I love you, too,” he whispers sleepily.
As Drew stands up and begins to move toward me, I back up into the hall. He pulls the door shut behind him and carefully moves closer, placing one hand on each side of me, caging me in against the wall.
“I know I’ve said it before,” he whispers, “but I’ll say it again. You are amazing and perfect.”
My breathing becomes ragged as Drew leans in, his lips skimming over my jaw. “Seeing you with Dawson, the way you make him laugh,” he continues, “it makes what I feel for you even stronger. I adore you, Reagan,” he admits.
I tilt my neck, looking up at him, just as his lips cover mine.
What begins as a simple kiss quickly grows, and my body ignites with an uncontrollable need for more.
“You make me feel safe,” I confess before I can stop myself. “I haven’t felt this safe in so long.”
“I would never hurt you, Reagan.”
I believe him. Without an ounce of doubt, I know he’s being truthful.
23
Drew
“Stay with me tonight. I want to see you when I wake up in the morning. I want to hold you all night after making love to you,” I whisper, finding the ability to use my voice as I control my hunger for her.
“I want that,” Reagan breathes out, “but I really need to go slow. I’m not experienced, and there’s so much you don’t know about me, Drew.”
“You called me Drew.”
She smirks as I tuck back a strand of her hair behind her ear. I watch her eyes slowly flutter close. In this moment, I know I shouldn’t push her.
"In case you didn't know, I've been calling you by that for a few days now."