I Made You My First

by Threadgoode, Ciara

  He stood there, watching me with a sexy little grin and said, “Your husband would greatly appreciate your company upstairs” and he couldn’t keep a straight face. I walked into his open arms.

  Pulling back from his chest to see his gorgeous blues, I said, “Hey Mister, would you give my husband a message?” And I batted my eyes for added effect.

  “I sure will, Mrs. Thompson,” he said, giving me a silly grin.

  “Will you tell him that when we were in my bedroom in North Carolina and he told me I’d be happy with him, that he was correct one hundred percent plus ten. Oh and please tell him that I love him more than words can say.”

  He pressed his lips to mine and I felt myself melting into his body. He was holding me so tightly, I could hardly breathe. He finally released his hold on me, slowly covering me with gentle kisses. He took my hand, leading me upstairs. After a romantic candle-lit shower together, our honeymoon officially began.

  Irish had to be at the airport at two o’clock Wednesday afternoon. His plan included flying out, taking care of business, and returning home by seven that evening. On his way home he was going to stop by Judy’s and pick up my suitcases.

  I was finally going to meet his mother while he was away on business. She’d invited me to dinner. Nervous wasn’t even an adequate word to describe my feelings, but when Irish told me that it would be only the two of us, I was relieved. She was going to pick me up at five o’clock, so I was adamant about being ready when she arrived.

  At four-fifty in late afternoon, I heard a soft knock on the front door. When I opened it, Irish’s mom stood there with the sweetest smile. “You must be my new daughter-in-law,” she said. I smiled back at her trying to get used to that title. “I think that you and I have a dinner date, Jurnee” and she held her hands out to give me a hug. She barely came to my collar bone and I caught myself bending my knees a little in the middle of our hug. She smelled so good, I thought, just like my mother.

  I closed the door and walked to her car. I watched as she climbed into the driver’s side and I’d have bet she wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals. We drove up the winding road and into her garage. I followed her through a door that led straight into a huge kitchen. She pointed to an island that must have had ten chairs encircling it. I sat down and watched her put her keys away, then disappear from view.

  After a few moments she returned carrying a medium-sized box wrapped in silver wedding paper, setting it on the opposite side of the island. “This is from me for you and Irish,” she said, “but I want you two to open it together.” I smiled politely. She sat in a chair beside me. When I looked into her face, I saw her son. He’d inherited all of her beautiful features, I thought. I had to smile when I looked into her eyes. She took a deep breath and reached for my hand.

  We sat there looking at each other, and she finally gave me the sweetest smile, reminding me of my Aunt Jean. “I know you don’t know this, Jurnee,” and she leaned in like we might be overheard by someone. “My son has loved you for a very long time.”

  I smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I love all of my children equally of course, but my Irish, well he has the softest heart of all,” and my eyes were fixed on hers.

  She sat back in her chair and her face became serious, “Do you know that when Irish came home from your parents’ funeral with London, he told me he was going to marry you?” I registered surprise, but I was more curious at what else she might be able to tell me about my new husband.

  I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “A few months after your parents’ funeral, John nearly beat the tar out of Irish for taking a picture of you from his house.”

  She looked down at her hands, “Irish came to me and said he knew John wouldn’t allow him to have it so he took it. He knows better than to take things that aren’t his, but it’s my guess he really wanted to have something to remind him of you.”

  She smiled, and I guessed she was thinking of Irish. “He dated so many girls, trying to find one that would make him feel the same way that he did for you. But I think that feelings really complicated things for him and Irish didn’t want complicated, he really just wanted you.”

  She looked at me, and her voice was much softer now. “I told him if he felt that strongly about you that he shouldn’t settle for anything less.”

  She smiled and moved closer to me, “Irish is happier than I’ve ever seen him, Jurnee, and that’s a gift. I’m so happy you two found each other. I want you to know I can never begin to replace your parent, dear, but I love my Irish and if he loves you, then I love you too. You can always come to me for anything, dear.”

  I felt my eyes filling but couldn’t look away. Now I knew where Irish got his strength. She was sitting in the chair right in front of me, holding my hand. Tears rolled down my cheeks. She lifted her hand to my face and wiped a cheek and then touched my nose with her finger. “Those had better be happy tears,” and she smiled.

  “You both had better take care of each other like you are the only two people on earth. That’s all that should ever be important. Never let anyone come between your bond with each other and you’ll always be happy.” I smiled back at her, trying to get my crying in check.

  “I don’t know what your favorite foods are yet, Jurnee, so you’re going to have to forgive me this time. I did pick some of Irish’s favorite foods, hoping that you’d let me slide.” I nodded and wiped my eyes. She jumped down from her chair and walked to the refrigerator, bringing plates of cut-up vegetables and cheeses, smoked salmon, fruit, and some dips. We picked at the plates while she talked about Irish when he was a boy. I felt honored she’d accepted me as her daughter-in-law.

  Before I realized it, Irish arrived. I beamed when I saw him. He walked up behind me and wrapped his whole body around me. He kissed my neck and then looked at his mother, “So Mom, how many embarrassing stories did you tell my wife about me?” And he smiled sweetly.

  She returned his smile and laughed. “I’m saving all those stories and going to string them out one at a time so I don’t scare the poor girl away.”

  He laughed, looking at me now. “Are you ready to go home?”

  I looked at his mom and all of the food. “Yes, but let me help put all of this wonderful food away first.”

  She turned to me and laid her hand on my arm, squeezing it tightly. “Jurnee, I don’t ever want to ask you to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, but you’re family now, and I’d love it, dear, if you’d call me mom.”

  “I’d be honored.”

  I felt Irish squeeze my shoulders.

  “You two go home; dad won’t be here until after ten. I have plenty of time to put this food away. Irish, be sure to take that gift home with you.” She smiled at us and I jumped down from my chair, following my husband.

  At home, I got comfortable on the sofa while Irish ran upstairs. I sat there thinking about how well the get-together had gone with his mom, and how silly I’d been about being so nervous. I also thought about what she’d told me. And about what Irish had told her. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed but when I looked up, Irish was coming down the stairs. His hair was wet, and he’d changed clothes.

  He sat down beside me. “What would my wife like to do?” He asked, tilting his head and giving me a devilish smile.

  He was relentless with this wife thing, I thought. I smiled back at him wondering if I wasn’t the luckiest woman in the world. I raised an eyebrow at him, “The fair opened yesterday, didn’t it?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “I believe it did,” he said reaching for my hand. Pulling it to his face, he asked, “Would my wife like to go to the fair?”

  I punched his arm. “Yes, your wife would very much like to ride the Ferris wheel with her husband,” he leaned in and tackled me, rolling me flat on my back.

  “Then let’s do it,” he said gently kissing my lips. “I do owe you a proper birthday dinner and maybe even a cake.”

  “Shut up and k
iss me,” I said with a splash of sassy.

  He was straddling my body, hovering over me with his hands framing my face and his lips came down fiercely on mine, a much more demanding move to which I immediately responded. I felt every nerve in my body stand on edge when his teeth nibbled along my lip, his tongue swiping over it immediately afterward to soothe the sweet sting. He’d never done that before. My hands pulled at his shirt until I tugged it loose from his waistband and slipped my hands up under it, sliding them smoothly over his skin. His breathing grew heavy and his lips stilled for a second as my fingers trailed up over the lean hard muscles of his abdomen, running over his ribs, and then up to his masculine chest. I could feel his heart pounding as my fingertips skated over him and then grabbed hands full of his chest hair.

  “Jurnee,” he gasped, his face dropping so that his cheek was pressed against mine and his mouth was burning against my ear. “I want you. I want you right now. Please either tell me to stop or tell me to make love to you. I need you to tell me what you want.”

  “I want you,” I whispered, bringing up my hand to wrap around his neck and pulling his face to mine.

  I turned my head so that we were face to face, my nose bumping against his. The heat coming from his skin was overwhelming, and I felt every bit of lust rise to the surface, just under my skin, following the path his fingers traced over my body.

  His forehead dropped to my shoulder, “Tell me again.”

  “I want you,” I managed, my voice breaking on the last word. It was so inadequate, but it was all I could say at the moment. I only knew I needed this man, and I needed him now.

  He stood suddenly and reached down to grasp my hands, pulling me up against his body. When I was steady on my feet his lips pressed to mine again, his hands sweeping down my back to settle on my hips. I whimpered and reflexively moved tightly against him, feeling his hard arousal straining against me. A dizzying sensation shot through me, from the tips of my toes all the way up to my lips pressed against his. My body instinctively responded and I moved against him before I could stop myself, getting lost in the hard presence of his body over mine, lips demanding even as they gave, and his breath coming in shorter pants as I moved against him.

  “Jurnee….”

  “You promised you’d teach me,” I whispered, before swiping at his earlobe with my tongue. His resulting groan made me brave and I ran my fingers through his hair as I spoke again. “I want you to be my teacher tonight....I want you.”

  He jerked at my words and before I realized what he was doing, he bent slightly and hitched me up against him so that my feet were no longer touching the floor. I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms tightened around his shoulders, and I buried my face in the smooth skin of his neck, kissing him as he carried me to the bedroom.

  A few lit candles were already glowing. He’d counted on me being submissive, I thought. He sat me on the bed gently pushing me back and climbing up on me until he was stretched over my body. I groaned quietly in pleasure at the renewed contact, letting my legs slid apart so that he was truly cradled between my thighs. I could feel the delicious pressure of him pushing up against me even more firmly then, but it still wasn’t enough. I unfastened the first two buttons of his shirt and then yanked impatiently at it until he reached back to pull it up and over his head, exposing his naked torso. It looked as good as it felt, and I couldn’t help but run my fingers over him again, learning the smooth hard dips and curves of his abdomen, clenching at my touch.

  When my fingers dropped to the button of my pants, he reached down and caught my hand, then brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “Let me.”

  He undressed me slowly, placing a kiss over every inch of skin he exposed. He was in no hurry as he slid the straps of my shirt down off my shoulders to kiss the upper slopes of my breasts. He gently removed my shirt and bra while nuzzling at my stomach, watching me squirm under him. I lay before him in just my panties. He stopped and let his eyes tell me that I was his. “Jurnee, you‘re so beautiful, so perfect, and you’re mine.”

  Before I knew it, he was kissing my hipbones before hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties, easing them down over my thighs as he continued to kiss the new areas he exposed. I gasped when his lips brushed briefly over me there, pressing a soft kiss against my spot, but not going any further.

  “You’ll tell me to stop, if you want me to?” I could feel his hot breath driving me crazy. I didn’t say a word. The panties were slipping over my ankles as he kissed his way down the inside of my thigh, over my knee and calf, and then back up the other leg.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered when he reached my face again. I could feel the fabric of his pants rasping against my skin and I reached impatiently for the button and zipper. This time he let me, and I unfastened everything quickly. He trembled when my knuckles rubbed over his erection and then he quickly pulled his pants and boxers the rest of the way down his legs. When he settled back between my legs again, nothing lay between us, just skin against skin.

  He slowed again, stilling my eager movements under him, letting his lips make their way back down over my sternum before settling between my breasts. He placed several kisses there and then skimmed up over one, and kissed around my nipple before slowly licking it and then pulling it firmly into his mouth. I gasped immediately at the sudden increase in sensation as his teeth grazed lightly over the sensitive flesh, following it with several slow strokes of his tongue. When he’d worked it into a hard throbbing peak, he let his tongue trail down and over, repeating the action on the other side.

  I was on fire burning hotly, already exploding into a million pieces. When his fingers stroked me lightly, I could feel my wetness. I went rigid and quivered against him as he slipped a finger inside me and then let his thumb rub against my spot at the same time. When he pulled his finger out of me, his thumb moved down only to push back up when his finger sank in again. He repeated the sweet push and pull until I was gasping and ready to shatter. I was already aching and desperate to feel him inside me. He was so hot and hard, and everything I needed was right there, and my patience was rapidly evaporating. I wrapped my hand around him, and he immediately flexed his hips forward, pushing into my fist.

  “Is this what you want?” he moaned, making me shiver. “I missed you so much today; I want to slow down and make this last but I can’t.”

  “I don’t want you to wait,” I said, reaching down to cup his hips in my hands, trying to angle him firmly between my legs.

  Settling his weight onto his forearms on either side of me, his lips found mine. I bent my knees and felt the very tip of him slide over me. I was so unbelievably aroused that even that slight contact made my lower abdomen clench and my body feel like it was going to explode. It wouldn’t take much now and he knew it.

  When he settled and began a long slow push inside me, the sensations became too much. The thick drag of him as he slowly entered me was the last spark I needed. I couldn’t have stopped my reaction for the world, and my hips jerked as I felt him watching me now. I threw my head back as he continued pushing steadily into me through my throbbing walls around him, the pleasure stealing my breath away.

  “You feel so good,” he groaned, fully surrounded by me as the last pulses of my body gripped him tight. “Jurnee, I believe that this class is just about over, my love.”

  My back came up off the bed as I arched under him, hot tingles already bubbling to the surface. He repeated the action several more times and then captured my lips, sliding his tongue in and out of my mouth to the same rhythm that his body set in motion. I was moaning nonstop.

  “I love you,” he muttered, before increasing the speed of his hips, rubbing firmly against my spot with each thrust. I stiffened against him and dug my fingernails into his shoulders as he dipped down without ceasing his movements. He pressed his forehead against mine.

  “I can feel how close you are, Jurnee, and I want to watch you come this time. Keep your eyes
open and look at me while you climax.” It took only a few more firm strokes as his fingers and lips also moved over my body, and I exploded around him, tiny firecrackers popping inside. He kept moving as long as he could, his eyes locked on mine, before his eyes finally closed and he let out a strangled moan. He thrust harder and faster, and then jerked, and I watched his face now as he came. He held still for a moment, panting against me and then pressed another passionate kiss against my lips. He crumbled down, and we were lying beside each other on the bed, panting and sighing.

  “I’m so sorry,” I gently kissed his shoulder, looking into his face. “I’m probably going to have to retake that class, maybe again and again until I’m able to ace it.”

  He smiled still breathing heavily and said, “Oh you aced that one, Jurnee. You’re a very enthusiastic student. I just need to find a way to slow down my lesson plans.”

  I smiled and lay my head on his chest. “I love you, Irish.”

  When I woke up, I looked over to see him sleeping soundly. Looking at the clock, I eased myself out of bed. It was seven am, so I quietly made my way to the bathroom to shower.

  When I finished and opened the bathroom door, Irish wasn’t there. As I made my way down the stairs, the smell of coffee floated in the air with each step. With Irish’s back to me, I was hoping that he hadn’t heard me enter the room. He wore a robe similar to the one I’d worn in San Francisco, and trying to be sneaky, I tiptoed up and tapped him on the shoulder gently.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” he said, turning his face to me and looking for my lips. I guess he’d heard me coming, I thought. He wasn’t at all surprised.

  “Good morning, teacher.” He handed me a cup of coffee and moved to the refrigerator to get the whipped cream. I stood leaning against the counter watching him. He looked like he was deep in thought. After topping my coffee with cream, he took my cup and the can, setting them on the counter beside me. Pushing his body directly in front of me, he pushed his weight into me, holding me against the counter.