by S. L. Naeole
“And…and if I want to keep it?”
Another kiss. “Then there will be no man more in love with you and our child than me.”
A whirlwind of thoughts careened through me as I played the options in my head. If I took the morning after pill then there would be no wait and see, no agonizing over what to do next. Life could progress as it had been, which was a pleasant thought. But if I didn’t take the series of pills and instead chose to wait to see if what had happened tonight did, in fact, make me pregnant, then things would change. Whatever I did would change things. It would change me, change us.
I looked at Mal and I knew that I wasn’t ready for any more change. Not yet, anyway. And I certainly wasn’t ready for a baby. “I want the pill,” I whispered.
Kissing me once more, he nodded. “Then I’ll go and get it.”
Without saying another word, he stood and took me to the shower, yanking the towel away from my body as he did so. Shocked, I could do nothing but sputter as he turned the water on and immediately began to soap me up, washing me, his hands moving in more intimate caresses than my own hands had earlier. And when I was clean and smelling of his citrus soap, he lifted me onto his jutting erection and entered me, my legs wrapping around his waist, crossing at the ankles to lock him in me.
“If I’m going to get that pill, I’m going to make darned sure you need it,” he rumbled into my ear before he began thrusting into me, my back pressed against the tile. I cried out with each rock of his hips, feeling his urgency and his lust compete with my own. It shocked me how quickly I wanted this, how much I wanted him. Right here, in the shower.
It was fast, the water and the tile adding to the sounds of our bodies slapping together, but it was so fucking good. His blunt head scraped inside me, touching parts of me that sizzled on contact. Each plunge pushed me closer and closer to the edge of sensation and as his breathing grew more erratic, I knew that he was near that edge with me, the two of us hanging on the precipice of complete ecstasy.
“Are you there, love?” he panted into my face.
“Yes.”
“Then let go.”
Together we cried out as he filled me and I milked him for more, always wanting more. We rocked into each other, the water our audience, our applause. I felt his shudders move into me as mine shifted into him. Our mouths fused together as we carried each other through the violence of our orgasms, neither of us wanting to separate. Connected as we were, it was as if we both knew that there was no one out there in the universe who could ever be as close as we were.
I read and reread the instructions on the package at least three times before peeling back the foil seal and removing the pill. The glass of water that Mal handed to me felt cool in my hand and as I took a sip, I pinched the pill between two fingers and then slipped it onto my tongue. Another sip of water and that was that.
Along with the morning after pill, we purchased several boxes of condoms and I watched studiously as Mal demonstrated how to put it on him and then take it off. We even practiced a few times before it was time for lunch. The morning shopping trip to the store for the pill and condoms hadn’t included groceries, which meant Mal and I would be eating out for lunch. Our breakfast of sex and oatmeal had faded to nothing by noon.
“What do you feel like eating for lunch?” I asked as I pulled my hair back into a quick braid.
Mal’s hands were rubbing the backside of my jeans as he chuckled. “If I said you, would you mind?”
I turned around in his arms and then shook my head. “No, but then what would I eat?”
Waggling his brows suggestively, he whispered in my ear just what he thought I could have. My cheeks filled with fire at his words and a pool of liquid formed between my thighs. “Well, that would defeat the purpose of all that practicing we just did, wouldn’t it?” I joked even as the idea filled me with curiosity and a strong desire to try it out.
He kissed the corner of my mouth before laughing and tugging at my braid. “Nope. I like practicing with you. I like everything with you.”
“Mmmm,” I murmured with a slow, lazy smile. “I like everything with you, too.”
We somehow made it out of his apartment and down to the garage. The dark car that he’d “rented” to me was there, and it didn’t surprise me one bit that he opened the passenger door to it and waited for me to climb in.
“Where’s the other one?”
Mal gave a lazy shrug. “Lyle drives it to his place. He doesn’t have a vehicle here.”
Awareness dawned on me. “Because his home is in California.”
Nodding, he closed the door and then moved around. Once he was in the driver’s seat and buckled in, he continued. “I spoke to him about my moving here permanently.”
My breath hitched in my throat. So this was real, then. He was actually doing it, leaving his home for me. “What did he say?”
“He said I had to do what made me happy. Work is work, and I can do it from anywhere, so why not do it where my heart is?” He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against my knuckles.
My eyes roamed around the car’s interior, admiring the way everything was just dark on dark on dark. “So you have two cars here and Lyle uses one when he’s not driving you around,” I noted, running my fingers up and down the leather and ebony wood that ran along the door.
Mal grinned as he pushed a button and the car started. “Baby, are we having that discussion now?”
“What discussion?” I asked, confused.
We were out of the garage when he replied, “the ‘how much do you make’ discussion. I’m surprised we haven’t had it sooner, honestly.”
“Whoa. That’s not where I was going with the cars question, Mal,” I corrected quickly, trying hard not to get offended. “I don’t care about how much money you make. I’m not looking to use you for your money.”
“I know you’re not,” he said, sensing my annoyance. “But it is something we should discuss.”
“Why?”
We were at a traffic light, the Saturday traffic heavy and bustling. “Because you need to know what you’re getting into, Victoria. You know I’m rich, but do you know just how rich I am? Do you know what that kind of money can do for you?”
I turned in my seat to face him, trying my hardest not to let my anger show. “Trust me, your money won’t be doing anything for me, Mal. Simply being seen with you nearly cost me half a million dollars.”
His head whipped to face me. Unlike me, he wasn’t holding back the anger. “What the fuck? What does that mean?”
Shit. I hadn’t told him. With him being gone, I’d completely forgotten to tell him.
Sucking in a deep, calming breath, I opened my mouth and let loose the entire story. “After the whole magazine thing with the photos of us together, I was served with papers. Franklyn’s aunt’s lawyers had filed to amend the settlement, saying that my association with you had obviously improved my finances and I could now afford the original amount awarded in her lawsuit.”
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel and I flinched. “Dammit, Victoria. Didn’t I tell you to tell me everything? This is something I could have helped you with!”
I stared at him in shock, his vehemence, his violence unexpected and new. “How? The fact that my lawyer expressly argued that our finances weren’t tied together is the only reason the damn judge threw out the amendment request in the first place. If you had gotten involved, what do you think would’ve happened, Mal? I’ll tell you: I would’ve lost and then my two-hundred and fifty-thousand-dollar settlement would’ve ballooned to three-quarters of a million dollars.”
His anger didn’t abate at my words. If anything, it only increased. “I’m a fucking billionaire, Victoria! That kind of money is nothing to me!”
This time I didn’t try to hide my anger. “And that’s the fucking point, Michael! This has nothing to do with you! This is my life—mine! And my bank account can’t afford to pay that. It can barel
y afford to be seen in public with you!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that those photos that you promised me wouldn’t exist cost me four grand for the attorney I needed to retain. That’s, like, a second’s worth of money for you probably, but for me it’s a painful and dangerous cost because even that amount put down can trigger an investigation into my finances. Shit. Do you even know how I put down the money for my apartment?” When he shook his head, I told him. I told him the whole embarrassing truth.
“I didn’t. I didn’t put down one goddamn cent. Kara and Lara used the money from their college funds. My name isn’t even on the damn deed. Instead, there’s a trust that was created in my name and that’s what’s on the deed. I don’t own anything. The trust does. Even the Clam was put in the trust’s name so that nothing I have can ever be used against me. I don’t control the trust. Kara, Lara, and Vonne do. All of this was set up so that I wouldn’t be left destitute by some angry bitch looking for someone to blame for the embarrassment her perverted husband brought on her family. I spent the past eight years being careful, being frugal, being extremely mindful of every damn thing I do, everything I buy so that she would never have any kind of leverage over me again.
“But one night with you and all that careful planning just went out the window.”
Mal stared silently at me before turning to face the road. Traffic was moving again and he tried to focus on it, the stiffness in his body slowly easing while mine continued to wind tighter and tighter. “Who set up the trust?”
“Del.” It came out as a harsh snap of teeth and tongue.
His continued silence as we drove made me uneasy, mixing with my anger into a dangerous combination as the air in the car grew thick with tension. “He takes a lot of interest in you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. Why, does that bother you?”
Shaking his head, he put his foot on the gas pedal, the car sailing forward as we moved through the traffic. “I’m…trying to understand. You trust him.” He waited for me to nod. “You told him about the lawsuit.” I nodded again.
“He’s a good guy. Of course you’d trust him,” he muttered, the tinge of something I didn’t recognize staining his voice.
“Are you saying that you’re not a good guy?”
Shrugging off my question, he turned the wheel, the car heading down a strangely empty street that was framed with trees. The road wound and curved, and the further we drove, the more colorful the scenery became as fall took over and multihued leaves blanketed the smooth pavement.
We passed long driveways, most gated, and as the minutes ticked by I turned to watch him. A pensive expression was frozen on his face as he held the steering wheel with one hand, the other lifted to his mouth, his finger absentmindedly stroking across his lips. Frustrated, angry, and, oddly enough, horny, I unbuckled my seatbelt and moved toward him, lifting my body up and pressing a kiss against his lips.
“Vic—wha—”
My hand lowered to his pants, the feeling of him semi-hard beneath the wool slacks making me smile. “Shh. You look stressed.” He continued to stutter as my fingers made short work of the button on his pants and then the zipper. I reached into his pants and his boxers, finding the smooth, hot shaft and instantly, my panties became drenched. I pulled him out, the head of his cock shimmering proudly with a drop of liquid lust.
“Sweetheart, you’re not going to jerk me off in the car while I’m driving,” he scolded, his head alternating from looking down at my hand, lifting up to look at my face, and then twisting to face the road.
I smiled wickedly. “You’re right. I’m not.”
Before he could say anything else in protest, I lowered my head and took the bulbous tip of his penis into my mouth. Immediately I was inundated with the scent of him—musky and spicy, with a hint of his citrus soap. My tongue swished over the wet slit at the top, taking in the saltiness of his male liquor. And finally, my ears filled with the whoosh of his breath leaving his body, followed by the inward groan that told me more than words could that I had just made this man very, very happy.
“Fuck, Victoria. Your mouth…what you do to me.”
I smiled against him, taking my time to get used to the feel and fit of him in my mouth. The corners of my mouth were stretched taut, and I could barely fit my tongue beneath the ridge of his cock’s head, but as I relaxed on him, he slid deeper into me, much like he had the night before only a different set of lips were surrounding him then.
I smiled at the memory and he sank in even further. My tongue traced the embossed line of a vein and as he shuddered against me, I knew that I was doing something right. Slowly, I lifted my head, creating a vacuum as I did so and marveling at the hiss that exited him, so long and deep.
Just like him.
Lowering down on him again, my hands pushed at his pants to keep them out of the way. He groaned, and the car swerved slightly causing me to giggle.
“Shit, baby. If I die right now, I’ll die the happiest fucking man on the planet.”
His words were encouragement that I didn’t know I needed, and as my head began to bob up and down, faster, my hands twisted around the base of his cock, sliding up and down, alternating with my mouth, the saliva that oozed from the slight gaps between my lips and his skin providing lubrication that only made his groans more guttural and thick. These were sounds that I hadn’t heard before, sounds that I somehow knew only I had ever heard before because only I had ever made him feel this way.
Twitching in my mouth, I pictured how he’d made his cock twitch while I practiced putting the condom on him. The image made me moan, and the vibration, in turn, made him groan so loud that I knew I had to do it again. Bobbing my head, I began to hum, choosing a song that had seemed appropriate for the occasion. The lyrics in my head were dirty, and as I lowered my humming an octave so that the vibrations were deeper, rougher, he said in that raspy voice, “my dirty, dirty girl,” and I knew I’d chosen right.
Faster my head moved, my hands twisted, and I sucked on him in a way that made lewd sounds in the car to contrast with my wordless humming. He shifted beneath me, his body stiffening as his breathing grew faster and faster.
“Fuck, baby. I’m going to come. You have to let go or else I’ll come in your mouth.”
I let go of him and looked up into his eyes, my lids heavy, my voice a husky scratch. “Then come in my mouth.” And then I dropped my mouth onto him again and picked up the pace.
His hand dropped to my head, cupping me as his hips began to buck slightly, working his shaft into my mouth even as I plunged down onto him. In and out, up and down. One stroke. Two. Three. On that fourth stroke, he grunted and then moaned my name as his shaft jerked in my mouth, swelling before hot jets of salty emissions coated the back of my throat. I swallowed instinctively, licking and continuing to suckle as the sounds he made egged me on. I’d felt him come on me before. Felt the pulses of his cock, knew how much he could shoot out of him, but in my mouth, it felt almost endless as if the mere touch of my tongue and the vibrations of my throat had opened up a fountain deep within him and he couldn’t shut it off.
“Victoria. Baby. Sweetheart. Fuck. Fuucccckkk. Holy shit. Oh fuck, I love you.”
I suckled him until he grew soft in my mouth, and then I released him, my hands moving to my mouth to wipe any residual spit and semen away. His hand was still on my head as he tangled his fingers into my hair and jerked my head to his mouth. His lips and tongue were forceful as they plumbed the depths of me, and though I worried he’d taste himself he made no act of withdrawal until I sighed into him and my body shook from a small orgasm that I hadn’t expected or shot for. It simply happened because I’d done this to him. For him.
“You. Are. Fucking. Perfect,” he panted as he slowly pulled away, our breaths mingling with excited puffs.
“I didn’t know I was going to do it until I did. Did you like that?” I asked, suddenly timid, my cheeks flooding with heat.
&nb
sp; “Like it?” he snarled. “I fucking loved it. Loved it. Every goddamn second of it. You’ve just given me the third most amazing moment of my life.”
Shocked, I pulled back. “Third?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Well, yeah. The second would be last night.”
Frowning, I asked him what his first one was. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and then kissed the tip of my nose. “The first time I kissed you.”
I resigned myself right then and there to stop wearing panties ever again because as the memory of that night hit me, I knew that there was no way the panties I was wearing would ever dry.
Ever.
And I don’t think he’d mind one bit.
I hadn’t even realized we’d stopped moving until I reached to help him zip up his fly. We were parked in front of a large, wrought iron gate. “Where are we?” I asked as I returned to my seat.
“It’s a surprise,” he said before rolling down his window and then pressing a few buttons on the keypad that sat directly outside of it.
After a few beeps, the gate started to swing backward and Mal started driving forward. We drove down a private driveway and soon a large house came into view. It was Tudor in style, with large stained glass windows that seemed to glow from the inside. An arched front door was surrounded by winding ivy, and as we drove around, I could see large carriage doors to the side that hinted at a massive garage. When one of those doors began to lift, all the breath left me. The garage was, indeed, massive. It was also empty.
Mal pulled into it and then turned off the car. The garage was lit brightly by can lights shining down from the tall ceiling. He stepped out of the car and hurried to my side, opening the door for me and allowing me to step out.
My eyes immediately took in the details in the garage, from the shelves that lined the wall beside me, to the cabinets that lined the back of the garage that screamed for a mechanic to use them, make them its bitch. Smiling, Mal took my hand and pulled me toward a low set of stairs with only two steps, and then pressed a code into yet another keypad before opening a door. Following him up the stairs, I kept looking for someone to greet him, but no one did.