by M. S. Parker
I put one hand on his stomach, smiling at the way the muscles twitched beneath my palms. The other hand reached beneath me to hold him steady as I lowered myself onto him. His hands went to my hips, fingers digging into the flesh as I took the first inch of him inside me.
My eyelids fluttered even at the slight stretch. The other two times we’d done this, he’d used his fingers and mouth on me until I came, allowing him relatively easy passage. This time, however, I was wet, but not prepared any other way.
This was going to be intense.
I put both hands on his stomach and let myself slide down until I was resting on his lap.
“Fuck,” I whispered as I squeezed my eyes shut. Every muscle in my body was trembling as if he wasn’t simply stretching me, filling me, in one place, but in every cell.
I’d never felt anything like it, not even with Allen. He’d always treated me like something precious. Like I’d break if he wasn’t careful. Now, I felt like I was going to shatter with the slightest touch, but I wanted more, wanted to move.
I shifted my weight, drawing a groan from Jasper. My own moan joined his as his cock rubbed against my walls, sending a new ripple of sensation through me. I opened my eyes and found Jasper watching me, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver through me.
I lifted myself up until just the tip of him was still inside and then dropped down, sending a burst of almost painful pleasure through me as he went deeper than before. One of the hands on my hip moved up to my breast, squeezing for a moment before his fingers started manipulating my nipple, pulling and rolling even as I repeated my rise and fall.
Neither one of us spoke as I rode him. Only the sounds of flesh against flesh mingled with our harsh breathing. I could feel the pressure inside me building, but just before I reached it, he sat up, his mouth immediately covering mine. One arm slid around my waist, holding me in place as he began to move us both. I whimpered as his tongue delved into my mouth, sliding against mine. The base of his cock was rubbing directly on my clit now and every shallow thrust created new, wonderful friction.
His lips moved across my jaw, teeth scraping against my skin before his tongue soothed it. He leaned me back, his arm stretched along my spine. He fastened his lips around one hard nipple. The suction was immediate and hard, sending a jolt of near-pain straight down. Then his teeth began to worry the sensitive flesh and I squirmed, wanting the sweet torture to stop. To never stop.
I gasped his name, digging my nails into his shoulders as he bit down. My entire body tensed, trapping him inside me even as my pussy squeezed tight around him. He buried his hand in my hair as I came, mouth still sucking hard on my breast until I was certain I would explode.
Then, suddenly, he was flipping us over, pinning my body under his. His fist tightened in my hair as he drove into me, forcing one orgasm into a second and then a third as he managed to hit that spot inside me with unerring accuracy. My nipple throbbed when he released it and I raked my nails down his back, gripping his firm ass even as he began to suck on my neck. He was going to leave a mark, I knew, but I didn’t care about that at the moment. All I cared about was that he never stopped.
“More.” I raised my hips to meet his, driving him deep enough to make me cry out. I felt his slight hesitation and clutched him tighter. “Don’t stop.”
He growled and wrapped one hand around my calf, pulling my leg high and opening me even wider. My eyes closed and my head fell back. My hand clutched him, holding on as he rode my body as thoroughly as I’d been riding his. I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but try to absorb everything I was feeling until it finally burst over me like a blinding light.
I cried out his name as I came again and I felt his entire body shudder. He thrust into me again, taking me deep and hard as he came. He collapsed onto me even as his cock pulsed and emptied inside of me. He wrapped his arms around me, shifting us so that he didn’t crush me, but still stayed inside me, our bodies joined. He pressed his lips against my forehead and I turned my face against his chest, feeling the racing beat of his heart against my mouth.
I wasn’t ready to say that this was love, but a part of me knew that if it wasn’t already, it would be soon. The thought was both terrifying and comforting, but I knew I didn’t have to dwell on it now. For the time being, it was enough for us to just be together and care about each other.
Chapter 7
I’d fully expected to wake up the next morning and find Jasper up and doing something. Making breakfast. Taking a shower.
I certainly never expected to be woken up by the feel of his mouth between my legs, licking and sucking until I came hard against his mouth. Remembering what I’d been thinking the day before when I’d gone down on him, I was only too happy to reciprocate, taking him into my mouth until he called out my name. I swallowed every last drop and then crawled back up his body to snuggle against his side. We’d had sex two more times during the night. Once drawn-out and almost lazy, our bodies moving with and against each other as our foreheads rested together. The other hard and quick. He’d taken me from behind, his hand in my hair, his body curved over my back. His free hand between my legs, keeping constant pressure and friction on my clit until I was nearly in tears.
I could feel it all now. My entire body ached. His mouth on my clit and pussy had almost been too much for the overstimulated flesh and I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to shower without feeling every drop of water with excruciating intensity.
I didn’t want to shower yet though. I just wanted to lay here in Jasper’s arms and pretend that this was the way things were, that there wasn’t anything out in the world that would try to keep us apart. I wanted the simplicity of it even though I knew I could never have it.
I let myself pretend for a few more minutes before sitting up with a sigh.
“You have to go.” Jasper gave me a soft smile.
“I do.” I reached down and traced his bottom lip with my finger. “But I don’t regret any of this.”
He caught my hand between his and pressed my knuckles to his lips. “Me either.” His breath was hot against my skin and my stomach tightened.
How could I want him again?
I didn’t take the time to stop and analyze it because I knew if I did, I’d act on it, and I’d never leave. As tempting as that idea was, I knew I had to go. I had work to do at home and if Mitchell wasn’t worried already, he would be soon. I’d left him a note saying that I was going out and that my phone would be off, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be concerned.
I leaned down and lightly kissed Jasper before climbing out of the bed and heading for the bathroom. I didn’t have clean clothes to wear home, but I definitely wasn’t going to go like this. One glance in the mirror confirmed that a shower was a good decision. My hair was a wild, tangled mess, my lips swollen. I flushed at the dark marks Jasper’s mouth had left on my breasts and neck. I was suddenly glad the weather was cool enough for me to wear high-necked shirts, otherwise, I’d have some awkward questions ahead of me.
Then there were the parts that I couldn’t see, but I felt. The stickiness on my thighs from our combined fluids, the slight change in the way I was walking to put less pressure and friction on my sensitive skin. My pussy throbbing in time with my heart and I knew that I was going to be feeling all of this for the rest of the day.
When I came out of the shower twenty minutes later, I felt much cleaner, but still sore. I wrapped the towel tightly around me as I went back into the bathroom. Jasper was standing by his dresser, naked, his back to me. I flushed when I saw the long, red scratches down his back and even on his ass.
Shit. I hadn’t realized I’d done that.
“Do you want something to wear home?” He half-turned, completely unembarrassed by the fact that he was still naked. He held up a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “They’ll be huge on you, but at least they’re clean.”
“Thank you.” I reached for him and felt my face heat again when his eyes automatically went
to the mark he’d left on my neck.
He reached out and brushed his finger over it. “I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away.”
I stared at him for a moment and then laughed. “Seriously?”
“What?” He gave me a puzzled look.
I dropped the towel and gestured for him to look lower. I saw the desire in his eyes first, followed by surprise. I had at least four more hickeys and two bite marks on my breasts.
“Fuck, Shae. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” He started to reach for me, then dropped his hand, his cheeks flushed.
I shook my head and laughed again. “No need to apologize, Jasper. I enjoyed your...attention.” My eyes slid to the mirror where I could see the reflection of his back. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I gave as good as I got.”
“What?”
“Look over your shoulder.”
He did, eyes widening as he saw the scratches I’d made.
“You can’t see all of them,” I said, my cheeks burning. “But when you get in the shower, I’m sure you’ll feel them.”
He looked down at me, a smile curving his lips. “I guess we’re even then.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said as I took a step towards him. We weren’t touching, but I could feel the heat from his body. “Next time, it’s my turn to bite.”
It was nearly noon by the time Jasper finally dropped me off at my place, and as I’d suspected he would be, Mitchell was waiting on the porch. I leaned over and kissed Jasper’s cheek.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
I got out of the car before he could ask anything about my brother. I could feel his eyes on me, but he didn’t get out of the car. Yet another thing that I loved about Jasper. He knew me well enough to know when I was posturing and when I was serious. And I’d been serious about not wanting him and Mitchell to get into it.
“What the hell, Shae?” Mitchell burst out as Jasper drove away.
“I left you a note,” I said mildly as I walked past my brother and into my house. “I said I didn’t know when I’d be home and not to wait up.”
“Yeah,” he said as he followed me upstairs. “But you didn’t say you’d be out fucking Jasper Whitehall all night.”
I turned, clutching my clothes to my chest to keep myself from slapping my brother. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Jasper and I care about each other. It’s called a relationship, Mitchell.”
His eyes flashed. “You can’t be serious. Him? Allen’s only been gone for four months. What’s gotten into you?”
I took a slow breath and then let it out just as slowly. “I’m an adult, Mitchell. I know you care about me, but I’m twenty-six years-old and have been on my own since I left for college. I’m a widow, not some naïve little college girl about to go off on her own for the first time.”
“You’ll always be my little sister,” he said gruffly.
“I know.” My voice softened. “But it’s my life. My choice.”
I went downstairs without waiting for a response. I tossed my dirty clothes into the basket near the washer and then went back into the living room. Mitchell was still there, scowling, but at least he didn’t argue when I walked in. I picked up the mail sitting on the table and began to go through it, wanting to give Mitchell the chance to finish absorbing what I’d said before I spoke to him again.
I immediately tensed as I saw the envelope. Blank except for my name. This time, my first name was also included. My fingers were shaking so badly that I could barely tear the flap open.
It wasn’t a letter this time. It was a picture.
“Shae, what’s wrong?”
Mitchell’s voice sounded like it was coming from a far-off distance.
I couldn’t stop staring at the picture. It was Allen in a UCLA sweatshirt. He was young, his face youthful and smiling. Tawny hair, hazel eyes. Strong jaw. Nose that was a bit too long. It was Allen. My Allen.
Except I wasn’t the woman standing next to him. No, I amended, a girl, not a woman. She might’ve been eighteen or nineteen, but she had the kind of build and features that would have people thinking of her as a girl for years to come. Her eyes were a dark brown, her hair long and curly, the color of cocoa. She was tiny, barely coming to Allen’s shoulder.
His arm was around her in a possessive gesture I recognized all too well.
I flipped the picture over, but there wasn’t anything written on it. No note in the envelope. Only the picture of my late husband and some woman I’d never seen before.
Who was she? Why had I been sent her picture?
A thousand things flew through my mine, but before I could get a grip on any of them, someone knocked on the door.
I walked over and opened it to find Jasper standing there, my purse in his hand. I hadn’t even realized I’d left it. He took one look at my face and his expression darkened.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it, Whitehall,” Mitchell growled from over my shoulder. “I can take care of my sister.”
Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean take care of her?” He looked at me. “Shae, what’s going on? Why is Mitchell here? And why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”
I barked out a nervous laugh. A ghost. Yeah, that was pretty close to the truth. I held out the picture.
“Shae,” Mitchell warned.
“Didn’t you say you had somewhere you were supposed to be today?” I asked, shooting my brother a sharp glance.
He glared at me and then at Jasper before turning back to me again. “I do.” He stomped past us both and climbed into his truck, peeling out of the driveway.
“What’s going on, Shae?” Jasper glanced down at the picture. “Why do you have a picture of Aime Vargas?”
Oh. She had a name. Of course she did.
I walked over to the porch swing and sunk down on it. “Who is she?” I asked.
Jasper came over and sat next to me. “She and Allen dated during his junior year of college and he broke it off at the end of the year. She didn’t come back to UCLA the next year. Where did you get this?”
“In the mail,” I said, holding up the envelope.
“I don’t understand.”
I nodded. “I know you don’t.” After taking a moment to collect myself, I told him the whole story, starting with the first letter I received. As I spoke, the expression on his face kept growing darker. When I finally stopped, he was silent for nearly a whole minute.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
I looked down at my hands. “Because I kept calling you for everything. It wasn’t a big deal for Mitchell to come.”
“I wouldn’t have minded.” The words were mild, but I could hear the edge to them.
“I know.”
“Then why.” He reached out and cupped my chin, turning my head so I had to look at him. “Why wouldn’t you call me or at least tell me about what happened? We were together all night and you never once thought to bring this up? I told you I wanted to take care of you.”
I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Because I felt like asking you to stay here for an unknown amount of time would be moving too fast and I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“Shae, you could never do that,” he said sincerely.
“That was only part of it,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I also didn’t want you to feel like I only came to you when I needed something.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “That’s why you were so upset about what I said after dinner.”
I nodded.
He took my hand and squeezed it. “Well, now that I know, what can I do to help?”
I squeezed his hand back and some of the tension went out of me. He was here. He was going to help me, even if it was only by sitting by my side. Before I could think of anything that I needed him to do, a car pulled up the driveway.
We stood and watched as it parked and the driver’s side door opened. A tiny woman got out and started walking tow
ards us.
“Shit,” Jasper breathed. “Aime.”
I didn’t need him to tell me her name again. She didn’t look much different than she did in the photo. What was different, however, was the little girl behind her. Tiny, with light brown curls and dark eyes, she looked a lot like Aime.
My blood turned to ice. I knew what she was going to say, but I stayed where I was and let her finish coming to me.
“Shae Lockwood?” Aime stopped a few feet away from me.
“Yes.” I crossed my arms. “Aime Vargas?”
Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, then flicked to Jasper. She recognized him, I was sure of it, but she didn’t say a word to him. Instead, she focused all of her attention on me.
“I’m Aime.” She reached behind her and pulled the girl up beside her. “This is Jenny. She’s Allen’s daughter and we’re here for what’s hers.”
Chapter 8
For the first couple weeks after Allen had died, there were times when it had all felt so surreal that I thought I could convince myself that it was all just a bad dream. A few times I’d even had dreams that none of this had happened, that Allen hadn’t died right in front of me. That we were still married, had a family.
This was another one of those moments.
It had to be a dream. A nightmare, actually.
There was no way I could be standing here, next to my dead husband’s best friend who I was now dating, listening to said late husband’s ex-girlfriend say that he had a daughter.
Allen didn’t have kids.
We’d wanted kids and had planned to start trying just before he’d died. Or, at least, that’s what I’d thought we were trying to do. Then I’d gotten the letter letting me know he’d been so sick. Why had he led me to believe we could have children together when he knew we never would?
Or that he already had a kid.
A daughter.
One with big dark eyes and light brown curls.
One who was standing behind her mother and looking for all the world like she didn’t want to be there.