by Mia Ford
“I can imagine,” I said softly. “Being so far away, hardly getting to talk, let alone – ”
“And dying,” he added. There was a distant look in his eyes for a moment, then he turned to me and gave me a soft smile before he elaborated. “Mason was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him when he got home. She made him so happy – he practically glowed whenever he mentioned her name. But that obviously, never happened.”
I had no words that could express how terribly sad that was, so instead, I just said, “I'm sorry, Drew.”
He sighed as he opened his front door. “It is what it is,” he said. “Carrie eventually moved on. Last I heard, she was engaged to a banker or a lawyer or something. Somebody who wasn't getting deployed to shithole countries where they get shot at day in and day out – guys who probably had a really minimal risk of dying in an IED explosion.”
We stepped inside and Drew took my coat, placing it on the rack beside the door. We walked down the hallway – the same hallway I'd used to sneak out of his hosue a week or so before – and sat in the living room, on the very couch we'd had sex on. I couldn't help but blush at the memories as they came rushing to the surface. And I could tell Drew was feeling somewhat awkward about it all too. Neither of us said much. We sat there staring at each other for a long moment. And eventually, the awkwardness faded and the silence became – companionable.
Drew pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and smiled. “If I'm being honest, I always wanted what Mason had,” he said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“With Carrie. I always wanted that. That sort of deep, abiding love and stability. I wanted it even though I mocked him for it relentlessly. The truth of the matter was that I wasn't sure anyone would have me the way Carrie and Mason had each other.”
Reaching out, I stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes as he leaned into my touch. “I don't know why you'd think something silly like that. You're gorgeous.”
“And fuck – ”
“You're not fucked up in the head!” I said, cutting him off before he could finish that thought. “Stop that.”
“Sorry, hard to break the thought process, I guess,” he said. “It was a process that started long before I enlisted.”
“I figured as much,” I said. “But we're going to work on that, okay?”
“You're not my therapist anymore,” he teased. “Makes it kinda hard to work on it with you.”
“I don't have to be your personal therapist,” I said. “I can still help you become a better person.”
He looked at me for a long moment and then gave me a warm, genuine smile – the first I'd ever seen cross his face.
“I'd like that, Amelia,” he said. “I'd lke that a lot.”
The way he said my name, as if it was some sort of delicate flower, was nice to hear. After hearing him call me nothing but Dr. Emerson for days, it was refreshing to hear my first name on his lips. Which speaking of lips – Drew leaned forward and kissed me, his soft, full lips pressed to mine as he slipped his tongue intomy mouth. I felt his hand in my hair, gently pulling on it as I kissed him back, relishing in the sensation of his lips against mine.
“Not here,” he said, pulling back.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my desire growing by the second.
I wanted him, and I wanted him right then and there. But if not there, then where?
“Let's go to the bedroom,” he said. “I mean, if you want to.”
This Drew was a different animal than the one I'd met that first night. He was actually somewhat sweet – now that we were looking at something different, something potentially more than just a one-night stand. I could get used to seeing that side of him.
“Yes, please,” I said.
We moved to the bedroom, where Drew laid me down on my back, planting a line of soft kisses all the way down my neck as he undressed me. He moved slowly this time, was more deliberate knowing that there was no reason to rush. No reason to hurry. I wasn't going anywhere, and neither was he.
Drew moved between my legs, placing his mouth on my most intimate parts. My body moved upward as his tongue circled my clit. He took his time and savored my body, kissing and licking and sucking before fucking me with his tongue. When he finally slid his tongue inside of me, I thought I was going to come. My body shuddered and my eyes rolled back in my head. Needless to say, it felt amazing.
The way he used his mouth was magical, sending me to the brink of orgasm within a matter of minutes. The first orgasm hit me hard and fast, and I held onto Drew's head, pushing his tongue deeper inside of me as my body writhed on the bed underneath him.
Just as my orgasm subsided and my heartrate came down to somewhere below somebody who'd just run a marathon, Drew looked up at me, my juices on his lips and smiled. God, I wanted him inside of me. Neeed it. And in that moment, that's the only thing I wanted, so I pulled him up until he was on top of me, his cock pressing against my opening.
This time, I managed to say, “Wear a condom, please,” before he plunged into my depths.
Drew reached over to his nightstand, pulled out a rubber and slipped it over his cock, which already had pre-cum brimming at the top. He reached back in the drawer and pulled out some lube – for which I was grateful – and stroked it down the length of his shaft until it was glistening.
It was going to be a whole different experience with this bit of preparation – but I knew it was going to be just as amazing. Of that, I had no doubts.
Once he was wrapped up, I reached out and took him into my hand, stroking him before placing him against my opening once more. He pushed himself inside of me, stretching my pussy as it swallowed up his big, thick cock. My entire body shuddered as he entered me and I let out a low groan. I raised myself up to meet his thrust, our bodies becoming one as the pleasure took hold of me.
He stared down into my eyes as he gently moved in and out of my warm, wet pussy, taking time to get used to one another and enjoying every second of it. He was raised above me, his strong arms holding him up, his body already covered in sweat from fucking me. I leaned upward, kissing him as I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on for dear life.
Together, we found a rhythm that worked perfectly for us. He thrust inside of me as I moved up to meet his body, as we groaned with pleasure in unison.
“Drew, oh Drew...” I said, my head thrashing from side to side.
It felt so nice to say his name – to know his name – before having him inside of me again. If I'd thought what we shared before was amazing, this time was ten times better. The intimacy, the connection between us was deeper, stronger – and that always made the sex way better.
And that's how I came a second time, with him on top of me, staring down into my eyes like I was a Goddess – and in that moment, I truly felt like one too. When I was with him, I felt like there was no other woman but me for him. I never caught him sneaking a peek at the tight ass of some sweet, young watiress, or some chick on the street with a top cut so low, her tits were hanging out. When he was with me, I felt like the only woman in the world for him.
As he pumped his cock into me again and again, I let out a scream and he held onto me. My orgasm subsised soon after, but he continued moving in and out of me with an expert pace. I writhed underneath him and scratched at his back as he fucked me, unable to control myself as I called out his name over and over again.
“Yes, Amelia... Oh God, yes,” he said, his body beginning to tremble.
The way he said my name – with such a depth of feeling – and the way he looked at me. It was perfect.
Drew groaned, his eyes closing as his breath grew ragged and shallow. I knew he was fighting the need to explode inside of me.He was trying so hard to keep going, to extend our pleasure. And as much as I wanted the pleasure to never end, I also loved knowing I drove him this crazy enough that he couldn't control himself.
I clenched my vaginal muscles around his cock, squeezing him tight as he pounded himself
deep into me. His body shook violently and his eyes flew open as he stared down at me, a look of near panic on his face as he completely lost all control.
“Oh God...” he moaned, his words becoming nothing but animalistic grunts and groans as he thrust that big, beautiful cock deep inside of me one last time.
Seeing the look on his face as he thrust himself deep into me made me come again. Hard. We came together as one, our bodies thrashing wildly as we lost all control, letting the pleasure take hold of the both of us. And we stared into each other's eyes, reveling in the look on his face, as we experienced one of the best orgasms of my entire life.
Drew collapsed beside me, letting out a deep breath. “Wow,” he said.
“Wow indeed,” I replied. “Though it seems like a vast undestatement.”
We both stared off into space for a moment, reveling in that post-sex glow. But then he turned and kissed me. Deeply. Passionately. There was a lot behind that kiss – a lot more than just sex. It was a kiss with real feeling. And real meaning.
“Thank you, Amelia,” he said.
“For what?” I laughed. “I should be the one thanking you.”
“Not for the sex – although I should, it was pretty amazing,” he said and laughed. “But for coming back. For not running away from me.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to say in that moment – as ridiculous as it sounded.
I really had no words to say to that. I was happy that I came back too. This wasn't just for him, it was for me as well. I was getting chilly, so I pulled the covers up and nestled myself down deep into them. His bed was so cozy, so soft, and so wonderfully warm. I could probably die right then and there – after mind-blowing sex and in the most comfortable bed I'd ever been in – and have been perfectly happy.
“Promise me one thing, please?”
“What's that?”
“Promise me you won't sneak out in the middle of the night again,” he said. “Because I'd really like to make you breakfast this time.”
“That sounds nice,” I said. “Really nice.”
And Drew pulled me close, my head resting on his bare chest, and I thought to myself – I could really get used to this.
SEDUCED BY TWO
SEDUCED BY TWO
If someone had told me that December twenty-third was the day my life was going to change forever, I wouldn’t have believed them. In fact, I probably would have laughed. Despite always being kind of a Pollyanna, my friends have always told me that I’ve got a very cynical sense of humor.
But I’m getting a little away from myself now. It was a Friday evening, and I was sitting at the kitchen table, working on homework. I was twenty-two years old, and I had no idea what was about to happen.
“Kristin, sweetie, how’s it going?” Mom slid into the chair opposite from me. Everyone always said we looked like twins, but I didn’t see it. She was tall where I’ve always been short for my age. Her hair was blonde to my brown, and her skin was a perfect rosy color whereas mine always looked tinged with yellow, like I had jaundice. Still, we did have the same round cheeks and pouty lips. I always thought Mom was beautiful, like an angel. But when I looked at myself in the mirror, I always wished that I looked like someone else.
“It’s okay,” I said lamely. I showed her what I was working on – a paper concerning the architectural history of the Florentine Cathedral.
Mom nodded. She squinted, looking over her glasses at the page below me. I cringed – I knew she was judging my handwriting.
“Sweetie, don’t use that word,” Mom said, pointing down at the page. “It doesn’t make you sound very smart.”
I nodded. I knew it was probably unusual for Mom to be helping me with my homework now that I was in college, but it didn’t feel weird to me. Mom and I had always been close. Back then, I was a bit sheltered.
Well, okay. Maybe a lot sheltered. But I didn’t mind it – I actually kind of enjoyed being naïve. It was like being safe. I never had to worry about things – Mom and her husband, Dean, took care of everything.
“Okay,” I said, erasing the word and writing a synonym down instead. “Is that better?”
Mom nodded. She smiled, standing up from her chair and walking across the kitchen. “You know I don’t want to help you cheat,” she said. “But I always want to make sure you have good grades. How’s your GPA right now, Kristin?”
I gulped. “Three point nine,” I said quickly. “It’ll be four point zero before the year is up, though. I promise.”
Mom stared at me. “What did we say about letting that drop?”
My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and I glanced down into my lap. “Um,” I stammered softly. “That it wouldn’t happen.”
“And what else?”
“No matter what,” I added quickly. “That it wouldn’t drop no matter what.”
Mom nodded. She didn’t look happy anymore – she looked stern, like she did when she was upset.
“Well, what happened, Kristin?”
I took a deep breath. At least she’s not using my full name, I thought. I knew that whenever I heard “Kristin Mae Calloway” that meant I was really in trouble!
“I missed a question on a quiz last week.”
“And that was enough to drop your grade?” Mom crossed her arms over her narrow chest and stared. “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”
Just as I was about to go into a passionate defense of my own studies, the door swung open and Dean walked in.
“Hi, all,” Dean said. He nodded at me, then walked over to Mom and kissed her on the cheek. As soon as I saw his expression, I knew something was up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it, Kristin,” Dean said. He glanced down at me. “Everything okay?”
Mom sighed. I prayed she wouldn’t say anything, but she opened her mouth anyway. “Kristin’s grade point average slipped a little,” she said. She looked at me and smiled. “But we talked, and it’s fine. She’s going to get it back up. She’s working on that right now.”
I could have sighed with relief but instead I smiled back, grateful for such a wonderful, supportive mother.
“Ah,” Dean said. I was surprised that he didn’t have more to say – normally, he was more strict about making sure that I did well in school than Mom was.
“Honey?” Mom turned to Dean. “What happened? You’re home so early.”
Dean shrugged. “I got a call,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes on me. “You know. About Andrew.”
Instantly, my ears perked up. I couldn’t wait to hear what Dean was about to say – if I was lucky enough to be allowed to stay in the room, that is. Andrew Medina, Dean’s son, was my stepbrother. He was five years older than me, and endlessly cool. I’d always had a little…well, I don’t really know what to call it. But as soon as he walked into the room, my eyes always went right to him. It was like I couldn’t look away. Not because of anything bad, though. While I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, the way I felt about Andrew was almost like I had a crush on him.
Honestly, it was hard not to feel that way. He was so handsome – sexy, messy dark hair that stood up in cowlicks all over his head. Dark, intense eyes. A chiseled jaw covered with dark scruff. I especially loved the way he looked at people – almost like he could see right through them.
The first time I met Andrew, I was sixteen. He was twenty-one, and finishing up college in Boston. I didn’t know anything about him – Dean had always talked about “my son” this and “my son” that, but it wasn’t like the anecdotes were actually personal. It was stuff like, “my son loves oranges,” or “my son hated doing this, too.”
So I was completely unprepared when I actually met Andrew. I hadn’t really known what to expect. Dean himself was a pretty normal, stand-up guy – the exact kind of guy I always saw Mom going for. I imagined that his son, Andrew, would just be like a tiny version of him.
Needless to say, I was really shocked when Andrew pulled into the d
riveway and swaggered into the house. There were no other words for it – he was just cool. He had longish dark hair that he kept pushing away from his forehead in a messy, practiced gesture. His dark eyes sought out all of the movement in the room. When he saw me, he stared. First his eyes traveled down my face, then my body. When I realized that he was lingering on my breasts, I blushed bright red.
“So you’re Kristin?”
I nodded. My mouth felt dry and I was getting weak in the knees. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m Kristin. You’re Andrew?”
Instead of answering, Andrew licked his lips (they were surprisingly full, for a man) and gave a brief jerk of his head. His dark hair went flying and my palms itched – suddenly, I was desperate to know what it would feel like if I ran my fingers through his dark locks.
Andrew smirked. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”
I licked my lips. “Fun?”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fun,” he replied. He leaned closer, putting his hands on the dining room table until he was mere inches away from my face.
“I study,” I said. A peculiar feeling was spreading through my limbs – a blend of excitement and arousal and the odd sensation that Andrew was making fun of me, even though he hadn’t said anything to that effect.
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Studying,” he drawled. “Yeah, that does sound fun.” He peered intently into my eyes and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “I bet you really know how to throw a party, Sis.”
My cheeks burned flame red and I shook my head fast enough to make my brown curls obscure my vision.
“I can’t really go to parties,” I said. I was mortified – my voice was barely above a whisper. I desperately wanted Andrew to think I was cool, too, but I was doing such a piss-poor job of it that I might as well just give up and slink upstairs.
“Well, here’s the thing with good ole Mom and Dad,” Andrew said sarcastically. “They only know what you tell them. So if you wanna have fun, you gotta do that on your own time.”