Coming Together

by Poppy Dunne

  Maybe an extra half hour. After all, a man’s got to know his limits.

  “Think Bruno will be happy to see Archie?” Chelle giggles as her tiny mutt jumps up and licks the tip of her nose. I scratch the dog’s ears, and he thumps his leg in approval. See? I can get along with little dogs.

  “I just hope it doesn’t end up in Bruno dominating all over again.”

  Chelle sniffs. “I think Bruno will be in for a surprise. You know, Archie’s been meditating.” She whaps my arm lightly when I laugh. “Seriously! I started playing wolf howling soundtracks for him, to get him more in the predator mindset. He’s getting so much more in tune with his primitive roots.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time at that school.”

  “Is that going to be a problem? Now that I’m hired to faculty and all?” She flutters her eyelashes again. Damn if she doesn’t know it’s sexy.

  Reaching over, I squeeze her knee. “No problem at all. I’m all in favor of continuing education.” To make my point even clearer, I skim my hand up her leg, right up to the apex of her thigh. She gasps, and squirms a little beneath my touch before gently taking my hand away.

  “Later,” she pants. “When the dog isn’t watching.”

  Archie blinks his bug eyes at me. Son, you ruin everything. But you’re cute, so your mistress will undoubtedly let it slide.

  Finally, we’re back at my condo. Bruno comes woofing up as we let ourselves in, and immediately takes to sniffing Archie’s ass. The little dog kind of accepts it while Chelle and I move away upstairs.

  Shutting the bedroom door behind us, I look at the woman in front of me. She’s still toying with her curls, shifting her weight from foot to foot. I understand this look, and this body language. She’s afraid this is all going to go away. She needs something to keep her grounded, to let her know this is real.

  Well. I’m about to show her how real it is.

  Chelle gasps as I cross the room, pick her up, and lean her against the wall. Her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, I know she can feel my erection. My cock’s already rock hard just this close to being inside her.

  “Why Mr. Munroe, you’re very forward tonight.” She whispers this against my mouth, then gives me a light, teasing kiss. When I go after her, she bobs away from me. Coy. Teasing. Both of those are guaranteed to make me harder, if that’s even possible.

  “Then let’s be clear.” I kiss her neck all the way down to her collarbone, and she starts to grind against me. Fuck, I could come from this alone. “What do you want?” I growl in her ear. She squeezes me with her thighs, driving me way past crazy. Quickly, I turn around and deposit her on the bed.

  Chelle gasps as she lands, bouncing a little. She giggles as I lean down over her, waiting. My hand slides up her thigh, all the way up to the silk of her panties. Her eyes go half-lidded as I thrust the thin material of the panties aside, and I tease one finger along her opening. Moaning, she writhes, but I hold her still with my other hand. I want her to tell me what she wants.

  “What do you want?” I ask again.

  “You,” she whispers. “Me. Sex. Uh. Please. Can’t think.”

  Then she dissolves into laughter again, reaching up to trace her fingers along the line of my jaw. She’s both aroused and relieved and so am I. No more worrying about work, the show, my kid, my ex. Her clowns. Now it’s just us, the way it should’ve been from the start.

  “I want you to fuck me,” she says at last, sitting up and kissing me. I lay her back down, continuing to pull off her panties. They slide away easily, and I press my thumb against her clit once, twice, tapping it gently. Fuck, she’s wet already.

  Moaning, she bucks under my hand as I guide one finger inside of her. I move with a rhythm, picking up the pace as she throws her head back and groans. Her eyelids flutter shut, her hair is a red spill over the bedspread.

  I begin to pull the straps of her dress down, but she shakes her head. Fingers fumbling, she undoes my belt, starts unbuttoning my pants.

  “I don’t want to wait,” she says, gazing up at me with an expression of pure lust. Baby, neither do I. I reach for the bedside drawer, pull out a condom, rip the foil. Once I’m nicely sheathed, I press the tip of my cock against her cunt. Chelle moans again, running her hands up and down my arms. Her fingers dig into my biceps, urging me on. She’s begging me to go deeper.

  So I do.

  I enter slowly but relentlessly, filling her. I thrust as hard as I can go, then pull out. It’s so slow I nearly drive myself crazy, but I want her to feel every inch of this. I want her to feel me, to know I was there.

  “I’m not going to last,” she cries, gripping me around the neck. Her fingers slide through my hair as I lean closer, pressing a kiss against her throat. I taste her sweat, and the scent of her arousal is overwhelming. “Please. More.”

  I grab her ass, tilting her hips even higher. I slide in her as far as I can, all the way to the hilt. Chelle moans as I thrust harder, my rhythm picking up. Her hips buck against me, grinding to take me even further inside of her. Grunting, I piston faster. Chelle’s breaths come fast against my neck, and her thighs tighten around me as I drive into her with everything I’ve got. Already, I can see the world melting away at the corners. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m already as close as I am. The bedsprings scream beneath us, and Chelle joins in, getting louder and louder.

  The orgasm is building inside me, an unstoppable force. Chelle closes her eyes tight, her mouth open as I give her everything I’ve got. Then, so slow it’s beautiful, I watch as her orgasm crests and breaks. Her mouth forms a perfect O and her entire body shudders as she leans back, collapsing onto the bed.

  Chelle screams my name—all that I need to spill completely into my own orgasm. The world stops around me as I come, pouring everything inside of her. I can hear my own gasps and groan as if they’re far away. I collapse onto her, and we both breathe out together. Christ, I don’t think I can move after that. Chelle nuzzles up against me, trailing kisses along my jaw. I kiss her, tasting her. Her tongue laps against mine, and fuck me if that alone isn’t almost enough to get me hard again.

  What does this woman do to me? Whatever it is, I need it.

  “Was that what you wanted?” I murmur this against the hollow of her throat, as I kiss her. Sighing, she looks up at me as I pull out. I fold her against me, my chin resting on the top of her head. Chelle chuckles.

  “I mean, I wanted something mind-shatteringly good. That’s hard to come by.” She grins when I grunt in surprise. “So imagine the shock when my expectations were met. You, sir, are getting a highly favorable rating on Yelp.”

  “All I’ve ever dreamed,” I deadpan, and Chelle squeals when I flip her back onto the bed. I kiss her mouth, her chin, all the way down her chest. Fuck, maybe I really can get hard again. This woman makes me feel like I’m a goddamn senior in high school.

  Only without the shitty SATs.

  The next perfect orgasm is interrupted, because it sounds like a commotion downstairs. More specifically, it sounds like two stupid dogs are tearing the place apart. Plates breaking, precious memories destroyed, levels of the place getting torn apart. Cursing, Chelle and I get off the bed and head downstairs. I flip on the lights, and look down to find that, yeah, the entire dining room’s been knocked over. The chairs are on their backs; the table’s on its side; a bowl filled with ball knick knacks that Amelia insisted on keeping’s been thrown to the ground, and the balls have rolled every goddamn place.

  And in the center of it all sits Bruno. He’s got his tongue hanging out lazily, like he’s just had a great workout. Furiously humping Bruno’s leg is none other than Chelle’s little wild-eyed mutt, Archie.

  Both Chelle and I stand there, kind of agog at the display of canine stupidity below.

  “So.” That’s all I can think to say.

  “Looks like Archie finally humped his way to the top of the pack,” she says in reply.

  Damned if we don’t laugh so hard we
nearly fall down the rest of the stairs. And damned if it doesn’t feel good.

  23

  Chelle

  How the hell has it been a year already?

  My life is a blur these days. First there was moving in with Will, then having Amelia over way more frequently. Pancake breakfasts, morning hikes, taking her to school with me, trying not to show her a lot of favoritism, kind of failing. It’s all been part of twelve wonderful, delirious months.

  And now, here I am, back in the auditorium at Bay of Dreams. The kids are going to be auditioning tonight for You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. This time, I put my foot down. There will be no ridiculous political messages, nothing post-modern, only the pure and simple story of Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and their friends.

  And the plight of migrants. I couldn’t find a way to keep that one out, but I’m sure we’re going to handle it very tastefully.

  My footsteps echo on the floor as I walk over to the stage. I climb up the stairs, and stand there looking out at the long, empty space. Mom and Dad are going to love this show. They’re coming out for it, and to spend more time with Will and Amelia. They even agreed not to bring red noses or business cards. This play’s going to be purely my creation, with the help of the kids, of course.

  As I put my bag down and head to the table at the back—nothing like moving the furniture now, to save time when they show up—I notice something. It’s a white box, of the pastry variety, and my stomach instantly rumbles. Man, my stomach is a pushy beast. Just the way I like it. Grinning, I flip the box open and…yes. Yes, there they are—the maple bacon donuts of heaven itself. I may just have had lunch, but it was soy bean salad with vegan goat cheese sprinkled on top. I barely got five forkfuls down.

  Will likes to keep me fed. God, I love that man.

  I lift a donut out of the box, bringing it to my lips with something like pre-orgasmic satisfaction…when I notice there’s a piece of folded paper on top of the donuts. At first I think it’s a receipt, but the paper quality’s too nice for that to be the case.

  Yes, I notice things like paper quality. Who worked at a stationary store through college? Yours truly.

  I unfold the note, which reads: Pond of tranquility. ASAP

  That’s Will’s handwriting, and for an instant a quick twinge of concern hits me. Is he all right? Why is he communicating with me in pastry form? Does he know that’s something I want on the regular from now on? Never one to ignore a donut, I take a bite and walk outside.

  The lawn is still and peaceful. The sun’s beginning to set, creating a slanting afternoon light over the brick patio and across the trees. I head down to the pond.

  “Will?” When I get there, I find a bag from Dylan’s Candy Bar. It’s filled with ten million varieties of gummy candy. My favorite. Okay, is this like Hansel and Gretel? Is Will fattening me up for the oven? Is that a new role play game we’re getting involved with?

  Is it wrong to say the idea turns me on a little?

  There’s a note attached to the bag: By the pine

  The pine is what Bay of Dreams calls the tallest tree on the premises. It’s a little further into the woods, so I wander the path, feeling like I’m in a confusing fairytale. A fairytale with bacon. The best kind.

  There he is, standing by the tree, leaning against the trunk with his hands in his pockets. Dear god, that man is delicious. Screw the candy and donuts—that is the tastiest sight of all. He’s taken off his work clothes, and is dressed in a simple dark gray tee shirt, the one that perfectly picks out every line of his abs, pecs…man, I get lost every time I look at him. A little too lost, because I helpfully trip over a tree root and nearly go sprawling. I also nearly lose my treats in the process, which is unacceptable.

  “Whoa!” Will’s arms are around me in a second, keeping me from wiping out on the path. He rights me but doesn’t let go. Just the response I was looking for. “I know I’m a lot to handle.”

  He gives the rakish grin I love—second out of eight grins I’ve categorized so far. Then he kisses me, and heat pulses through me. Again, I nearly drop the donut. Man, I gotta eat this bad boy.

  “I love the surprises, but any particular reason why?” I ask when we finally pull apart. Taking another bite of the donut, so it doesn’t go to waste, of course, I follow him back to the pine. Then I remember what time it is, and frown. “Also, shouldn’t you still be at work? The world of stocks won’t broker itself.”

  Will laughs at that, then looks me over. His eyebrow cocked, he nods as if in appreciation. Well, it makes sense he appreciates. I am double fisting sugar. It’s sexy.

  “There was one more thing, before I go and let you get to your auditions.” He shakes his head, a lock of dark hair falling in his eyes. I’d brush it away, but I might get maple sugar in it. “But they were out when I went to the store.”

  “Please. You spoil me enough as it is.” I stand on my toes and kiss him. Does the fluttering ever go away? Because I don’t want it to.

  “It was a Ring Pop.” He smiles against my mouth. “Strawberry.”

  “Aw, my favorite! That’s okay. I shouldn’t be eating that much anyway.” I offer him half the donut, but he holds up his hand.

  Aw. He’s missing out.

  “I got you a substitute, though.” He takes a small black box out of his pocket.

  This time, I can’t help my reflexes. The donut and the bag of candy hit the dirt.

  “It’s. Ah.” I blink, taking the little velvet box. Slowly, with shaking hands, I open it. That is a diamond right there, yes it is. The ring flashes in the deep afternoon light. It seems that the birds quit singing, and the squirrels quit chittering. Everyone in the forest is now watching my reaction. It’s like a Disney film, only with way more pre-marital sex.

  “Chelle Richardson.” Will gets to one knee, and for an insane minute I think he wore his non-work clothes so he wouldn’t get them dirty on the ground. But that’s not it. Work Will has been balancing out better with Play Will, and Play Will is my favorite. That’s the Will who plays games with Amelia and me on Saturday nights, who takes me to my favorite spot on the beach at Point Dume. That’s the Will he’s wanted to be for a long time. That’s the Will I want to marry.

  If this is a marriage proposal. For an insane minute, I think he’s asking me something else. Because my brain is like that. Fortunately, that idea doesn’t stick around.

  “Will you marry me?” Will asks.

  I could come up with a clever way to answer, or I could just kiss the hell out of this man. I choose the latter. Never let it be said I don’t make good decisions. He stands, and I’m in his arms in a second. Nearly climbing him, also. His hands roam my body as we kiss, the ring box still clutched tight in my grasp. No one takes this ring away. Sméagol forbids it. The ring is my precious.

  It will tell you a lot about me that Andy Serkis is whispering in my ear while I make out with the man I love.

  “I take it that’s a yes?” Will laughs when we finally pull apart, after a full minute.

  “Yes. I’ll keep saying it. Yes.” Trembling, I’m back on the ground and trying like hell to get the ring on my finger. Will helps with that, sliding the band onto my left hand. He pulls me against him again and I let myself go. I feel free, and safe, and wild, and happy. And hungry.

  But the food’s on the ground. Oh, bother.

  “I have an idea for before the kids arrive.” I kiss him, bite down gently on his lower lip. Growling with pleasure, his hands cup my ass.

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s a box of donuts in the auditorium.”

  Will throws his head back and laughs, the surprised laughter that never fails to delight me.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He hooks an arm around my waist, and together we walk back down the path.

  Donuts, a marriage proposal, school plays, and it’s only a Tuesday.

  I can’t wait to see what happens next.

  The end!

  Do you want more Chelle and W
ill? Sign up here for an extra epilogue!

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the fancy pants private school I subbed in when I first found my way to Los Angeles. I was never in a room with Beyoncé and Jay Z, but I did go on a field trip with Blair Underwood and give Jodi Foster a tissue. I'll take it.

  Kiki Chattfield of The Next Step PR and Debra Presely of The Book Enthuiast are amazing professionals in this industry, and working with them and learning from their experiences was a pleasure.

  Shannon Passmore with Shanoff Formats, Sybil Wilson of PopKitty Designs, and Book Blast are creative and accommodating geniuses. Thank you for help with promotional images for this book.

  It would be super easy to acknowledge all the YouTube stars who have entertained my children as I worked on this book. I could copy and paste the browser history onto this page. (Let's not discuss Mr.'s browser history, ok?) It's harder to thank the countless readers and bloggers who have shown me big and small acts of kindness and encouragement. Every drop of positivity matters, and I will surely fail to acknowledge everyone. So thank you to all who go out of their way to make other people smile and spread happiness and warmth around our little book corner of this universe. I'll never stop looking for ways to pay it forward. (And right there is my husband's cue to say, "Poppy, your Angeleno's showing." I know, dear. I love you, too.)

  Come Again

  Want to read more about Charlotte and Justin? They are also in my other full length novel, COME AGAIN, which is available now! Here is a sneak peak!

  Chapter 1

  Emma

  It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of a good job must be in want of some wine. But what kind of wine, you may ask? Well, if it’s a ‘good day at the office, bad night searching OKCupid for love’ situation, I recommend a nice, light pinot grigio. ‘Best sex of my life followed by a hungover morning fielding work emails’ needs a heady malbec, preferably drunk underneath the desk with one shoe off. And if you’re at a family birthday party after a long day of work, offering romantic advice to the most perfectly adorable lovelorn twelve-year-old niece of all time? Pour me whatever’s available. Even if it comes out of a box.