Abruption

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Abruption Page 8

by Riley Mackenzie


  “Oh my God. Oh my God,” a woman shouted.

  Guy startled and pulled away, and I jumped like a teenager getting caught doing way more than almost kissing.

  “Shhhhh,” we said in unison.

  “Sorry, sorry, I came as fast as I could.” I quickly glanced at both kids to make sure Maya hadn’t woken them, before wondering how she knew where to find us at, um, 5:15 AM. “Aunt Darla just texted me. I can’t believe this. Is he okay? He was fine when I put him to bed. What happened?”

  “News travels fast,” Guy mumbled, obviously thinking the same thing as me.

  Aunt Darla? I wondered if that was Guy’s wife’s mom. Made sense that he would have texted Finn’s grandparents to let them know what was going on, but I didn’t remember Guy taking out his phone at all last night.

  “He’s better now, it was just a really long night. Jules stayed and was amazing with Finn. Honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve made it without her.”

  “You should have called me, you know I would’ve come. What do you think it was? Did he have a CT Scan?” Maya asked in rapid-fire.

  “Just an X-ray and it was normal. Probably a very severe gastroenteritis, but the scary part was the Zofran did very little to help the intractable vomiting,” I chimed in.

  Maya covered her mouth and shook her head, visibly upset. “Do you think he needed an NG tube?”

  “No, he caught a bug. It’s over.” I sensed Guy was seriously over talking about vomit and was relieved we were on the flip side. “But Maya, can you do us a favor and stay with the kids for a little? The worst seems to have passed. Max is down for the count and I want her to get some more sleep. I’m gonna run home, shower, grab her a change of clothes, and be back in a few hours. Then you can drop her at preschool?”

  “Absolutely. No problem.”

  “Good.” He pecked both kids on the head and turned to me. “Let’s go.”

  Let’s go?

  There was no way I was making it all the way to the Bronx and back in two and a half hours. My shift started at eight. I was planning on heading to the locker room and grabbing a pair of scrubs to change into. It was going to be a makeup-free, ugly hair day. Not that I cared, I had a date with a giant cup of coffee as soon as I was clean.

  I followed him into the hall. “I don’t have time. I’ll just shower here.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I start at eight and live in the Bronx.” Both he knew.

  He grabbed my hand and stopped in front of the elevator bank. “Go grab some scrubs, unless you want to swim in mine all day. I’ll meet you in the lobby in five. We’ll shower at my place.” He kissed the side of my forehead again, pressed the elevator button for me, and disappeared into the stairwell.

  “Okay,” I said to no one as a swirl of butterflies swept across my stomach. We’ll shower. I knew he meant individually, of course, but visions of him wet and naked clouded my thoughts.

  I needed to stop this insanity; it was one damn kiss.

  No big deal.

  If it was no big deal, it didn’t explain why my legs felt weak, and any and all moisture from my mouth was gone.

  The ride to his apartment was quiet. A comfortable silence, though. We were both exhausted, and small talk seemed like an unnecessary use of energy—at least I hoped that was why we weren’t talking.

  “Ah shit, it smells,” he said, opening the door as a putrid waft smacked us in the face. “Need to get those sheets into the washing machine.”

  “You grab a garbage bag, some carpet cleaner and paper towels. And point me in the direction of clean sheets.” He looked at me like I grew a new head. Whatever. He already called me bossy, might as well live up to it.

  Unwilling to argue or too tired, he pointed down the hall. “Closet, outside the bathroom.”

  Twenty minutes later, a full load was spinning in the washing machine, and an empty bottle of Febreze was in the recycling bin. Guy was busy taking out the trash when I decided it was finally time to shower. I padded down the dimly lit hall and stopped short when my reflection bounced off the bathroom mirror. Long, long, long night was riddled into every feature. It was borderline scary. I ran my fingers through my tangled, dark hair, pulling it into a ponytail, only to realize I didn’t have an elastic band on my wrist.

  “You look beautiful.”

  I flinched, releasing my hair. “You scared me, I didn’t hear you.”

  His finger trailed across my shoulder bringing my silk top with it, evidently unfazed by my ragged appearance. He dipped down, pressing a soft kiss on that spot where my neck and collarbone join. A tingle rippled down my spine as my heart and stomach fluttered so strongly flight could have been imminent. He lifted his eyes and smiled. Screw the flutter—the way he was looking at me was altogether heart-stopping.

  “Smell still bothering you?” he whispered.

  Smell, what smell? That sense was completely turned off at the moment. Sight and touch were definitely screaming and fighting for first. Until he spun me around and pushed me against the counter, and a groan slipped from somewhere deep in his throat. Hearing took the lead. Leaning against me with the full weight of his body, he cupped my cheeks. Hands down, touch won.

  “Nah.” I breathed.

  “Good. Because if I remember correctly, we were here …” He feathered his tongue across my lips and kissed my closed mouth. “Or here …” He lifted me up, sitting me on the edge of the vanity. My achy core met his hardening erection, and obviously having checked my inhibitions at the door, I let out a throaty gasp. He took that as an invitation to explore my more than ready open mouth. This time, what started as a slow, melodic dance of our tongues, turned ravenous and desperate in mere seconds. I wound my fingers in his messy locks and easily matched his frantic pace. I only imagined that this need, this vulnerability, was a direct result of our stressful night. We were simply succumbing to the heat of the moment.

  I could have pulled away.

  I should have.

  His mouth left mine to briefly explore more of my neck and chest before he lifted my smooth silk top over my head. Left in only my black lace bra, a burst of goosebumps spread over my skin as he trailed kisses across the top of my breasts.

  “You’re cold?”

  I wasn’t. I was hot and bothered. But I kept that to myself.

  “I smell.”

  “Delicious.”

  “Impossible.” Because there was no way I didn’t smell from hours sitting in a hospital.

  “We’ll shower after,” he said.

  There was a lot of information in those three words. Too much to process. After what?

  I was too needy to dissect his statement. And yes, it was a statement because there was not a drop of inflection in his voice indicating even the hint of a question.

  He pulled me even tighter to his groin and tucked his hands under my bottom. Suddenly I was weightless. “You don’t have to carry me,” I murmured into his ear, as his hot tongue licked past the hollow in my neck and made my head drop back even further. It felt amazing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done this. Or if I’d really ever done this.

  “Yes, I do.”

  There was no arguing, trust me. I hooked my ankles together and draped my arms across his broad shoulders. He backed out of the bathroom and made the short trip to his bedroom.

  Sitting me on his bed, he stepped back and fisted his black sweater and T-shirt over his head in one fluid motion. My eyes left his in pursuit of a perfectly carved torso and rigid abdomen. Clothed, this man was sexy; naked, he was unbelievable. His jeans hung low on his hips, exposing deep V’s and a trickle of light brown hair that took every bit of moisture I had left in my mouth and shot it between my legs.

  “Scoot back,” he demanded.

  Without hesitation, I shimmied up the bed as he kneeled on the edge and crawled after me. His biceps and chest flexed as he held his weight over mine. I felt his eyes penetrating into mine, but I had yet to look back up, consumed with his bod
y.

  “Ready for me, doll?”

  His seductive words turned me on and panicked me all of a sudden. My thoughts were invaded with scrolling questions. I wanted this. My God, I wanted this. I did. But really, was I capable of a casual fling? What exactly did I have to offer? Could this just be hot sex?

  How had I not thought about this?

  Casual was the word that clogged the spinning reel. It wasn’t just Guy, there were children. Children could never be casual.

  “Jules,” left his lips. He was waiting for me. He was asking.

  Aroused and feeling exposed, even though he had no idea what was going through my mind, I finally met his gaze.

  His hooded stare was hungry. For me. Dipping down, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth before dragging wet kisses straight to my chest. Pulling my bra down he swirled his tongue over my nipple, teasing and licking until the tiny pearl tightened to an almost painful level. Then he continued the delicious torture on the other side.

  I could do this. Even if it was just this once. I was a grown woman. Grown women had hot, consensual sex at six in the morning without a drop of alcohol. Yep, it was all good.

  I arched into his mouth as his kisses dropped lower, stopping right above my jeans. He popped the button and slid the zipper down.

  “Gorgeous,” he groaned, shimmying my jeans down and tossing my boots to the side. Starting at my arch, he nipped and licked his way up my legs, burying his face in one inner thigh then the other. Then continued his assault up and over my hip bones and across my abs, staying clear of the spot I needed him the most. My breathing quickened and shivers traversed my body, causing my legs to tremble. The anticipation of what was to come had me practically pulling his hair out. He lifted his head and looked up at me with a huge smile. “Patience is a virtue, you know?”

  I released a puff of air and breathed, “Guy,” trying not to sound desperate. But I was writhing on the inside. I was desperate for his touch. He was driving me crazy. Enough that I lifted my hips.

  His playful smile faded into a sexy, determined one when he hooked his fingers inside my thong and inched it down. He sat back and stared. “Jesus, doll.” A blush inflamed my cheeks. I wasn’t ashamed by any means, I was comfortable in my own skin, but I couldn’t remember a time a man had ever taken this much time to lazily peruse my naked body.

  Needing a distraction from his penetrating eyes, I reached for the top of his jeans. He let me pop the button before he rid the remaining layers. His thick erection slid against my thigh, causing my breath to hitch. My hand instinctively reached for him. Soft, yet rock hard. Perfect. I gently squeezed, twirling the wet tip with my thumb.

  “Fuck, Jules.” His reaction surprised me as he pulled back slightly. “You keep doing that and this is gonna be over before it even starts.”

  I bit my bottom lip. I knew the wait was up (thank God). He smashed his ravenous mouth against mine like he wanted to eat me alive.

  Just like animals.

  And I wanted him to.

  He kneaded my breasts, finding my nipples again, circling and tugging them, intensifying the ache in my core. But as starved as he seemed, he had no problem letting his hands explore every inch of my body. Screw patience. I had none. I needed to feel something ... anything ... more.

  When he dragged his fingers through my wetness I was unable to swallow back my moan. I spontaneously curved my hips looking for that more. More pressure. More friction. More, just more. The top drawer squeaked open.

  I silently screamed. Please, please. Put it on now. Now.

  He broke our kiss growling something about needing a taste. Before I could fully process, he was between my legs. And the ache I thought was intense before crescendoed, only easing slightly when his tongue caressed across my folds.

  “Ah Guy,” slipped out through my lust-induced haze, still waiting for that more. And as if he read my mind, he found my opening, giving me the pressure I craved. Dipping his warm tongue in and out at an excruciating pace, I tangled my fingers into his hair, tipping my head back and unable to stop my cry. Pleasure, pain, spasm—all exploding simultaneously.

  I felt him pause between my shudders then I heard his husky whisper. “Feel good?”

  His eyes were on me, I could sense it, but mine were so far rolled back there was no chance of peeling them open. Instead, I nodded, unable to find my voice. “Can’t hear you.”

  Obviously nodding wasn’t working for him.

  A blush crept back up my cheeks when I mouthed, “So good.” Because let’s be honest, all moisture from my throat was obviously somewhere else. He abruptly pulled away. My heavy lids finally blinked open at the loss, and I whimpered, wiggling my hips.

  He laughed.

  Bastard.

  Or maybe I could take that back, because a second later he latched onto my bundle of nerves, sending me directly into oblivion. Wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through me as he tightened his hold on my hips, lapping at me like he truly was eating me alive and taking his time to swallow every last drop.

  It was hot.

  Amazing.

  Focusing on catching my breath and slowing my heartbeat, I heard the foil tear. Then moments later, his thickness was seeking entrance at my core.

  “Jules. I want your eyes when I …” My lids fluttered enough for him to sink into me. We both moaned in unison as he pressed his length as deep as possible. Filling me like no other, he created a rhythmic pace that had me writhing again in no time. So much for controlling my breathing and my heart rate, I was back to a frenzied mess. He had me crazy. Again. I was on the brink.

  He dipped his head, connecting our lips and claiming every inch of my mouth. Somehow, my taste on his tongue only made my desire skyrocket higher. I gripped his ass and matched his every push and pull. I was so exhausted, so energized, so close. He snaked a hand between our bodies and that was all I needed. I flew over the edge chanting his name unabashedly, milking him with my hips.

  “Ah fuck,” he growled when I clenched my sensitive sheath around him. With two more pumps he joined me in our fantasy world. Sighing, he collapsed against my chest, murmuring expletives in between panting “so good.” I was pretty sure I could have come up with better adjectives to describe what just happened. But since I was in multiple orgasm bliss for the first time in my life, I kept my mouth shut and moaned in agreement.

  Hot, consensual sex. I could do this.

  I can do this.

  Holy shit, I did this.

  And fifteen minutes later, when blood flow returned to our fatigued extremities and we found the energy to move again, we showered again just like Guy promised we would.

  “So …” We stopped in front of the hospital entrance. My shift started in ten minutes and I knew he needed to relieve Maya so Max could get to school on time. So … why was he standing on the sidewalk staring at me like this? Mind blowing sex and exclusive relationship didn’t seem like Guy’s M-O. And if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure if I would’ve wanted that anyway. “Thank you again for last night. And this morning,” he said with a smirk. Heat hit my stupid cheeks. “I like how easily I make you blush.” His smirk turned into a full-blown grin.

  “Whatever,” I snapped, acting annoyed even though I was anything but. I liked it too. I liked that I was letting myself enjoy everything Guy right now. He grabbed my hand and stopped me from continuing on. “Guy, I have to go. I’m gonna be late, and more importantly, your sweet boy is waiting. I’m sure his tummy is growling, and he may be going through iPad movie making withdrawal,” I said with a laugh.

  “You’re so right. I’ve got to get him home.” He kissed my cheek and tapped my butt. “You know you’re a natural.”

  “A natural?” I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Your maternal instinct—it’s top-notch, doll.”

  Okay, now I was getting pissed. She had a life—I got that. A career—me too. Hell, I had a family that came first, but I still scrounged up thirty seconds to pick up the
phone. What was her excuse? Four days of incommunicado made no sense, especially after that night. Even more so with the way she lit up for me the morning after.

  I got that we hadn’t spent much time together. But it hadn’t stopped her from making the small stuff matter. She remembered everything, every detail, even things I wasn’t sure I’d said aloud. Not to mention she didn’t have the widower look. Instead of the oh you poor thing, let me make it better look, she had the I sympathize, but it doesn’t give you a reason to be a dick look. That I could appreciate. Hell, I even liked it. So much so, I reluctantly let my guard down for the first time since her. And I wasn’t lying when I told her she was a natural. With Finn. With Max. With me. So whether she was toying with me or just plain not interested, this needed to be resolved. I was too old and had been burned too many times for games. And I definitely wasn’t going to tolerate limbo, especially with my children involved. Letting them hang together was an amateur move on my part. I knew better. This was the exact reason I didn’t date. There was no time for this bullshit.

  I ripped the sweaty blue cap from my head and kicked my feet up on my desk. Two hernia repairs down, a hemicolectomy, and two appys to go. I snatched up my phone and stared at the screen like some text was magically going to appear. No such luck.

  I should let the whole thing go, chalk it up to another life lesson about women, complete with phenomenal sex as my parting gift. But I couldn’t. History might prove I wasn’t the best judge of character when it came to the opposite sex, but Jules seemed different.

  The real deal.

  Hell with it. I scrolled, tapped her name, and hit speaker. She worked Monday and Tuesday night, was off Wednesday, and was due in today at eleven. It was a quarter to, so there was no reason she shouldn’t answer. Great, I sounded like a stalker now. Whatever, they were just cinnamon rolls.

 

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