by Lila Younger
“I’ll come down,” I say at last. “I just want to wash my face first.”
“Sounds good,” my mom says. “I’ll have everything ready. It’s pork chops tonight.”
I wait until my mom’s walking down the stairs to get out of bed. I head into the bathroom and turn on the tap. I let it run over my cupped hands and splash it over my face. The cool water helps me feel not so groggy and gross, but when I look up, I can still see the telltale signs of crying on my face. I wonder how Lachlan is doing, if he’s even thinking of me right now. Tears threaten to well up again, and I blink them away. Hard. He’s not thinking of me, and I shouldn’t be thinking of him too. After a few steadying breaths, I feel in control enough to head downstairs.
My mom smiles when she sees me in the doorway to the kitchen. I can smell the wonderful smell of her cooking, and for the first time, I feel a little stirring of hunger. My dad looks at me, and I can tell he doesn’t know what to say, so I just go up to him and hug him. He squeezes me so hard it forces the air right out of me, and I know that we’re okay.
We sit down at the table, and I’m buttering up a roll when I hear a commotion outside. We all look at one another, and then the doorbell rings.
“Are you expecting anyone?” my mom asks my dad, who looks just as puzzled as she does.
He slowly gets up from the table and lumbers to the front door. A moment later, it opens and closes. Mom and I crane our necks to see, and to my surprise, it’s Lachlan following behind my dad. What is he doing here? And did my dad really let him in???! I unconsciously pat my hair, which is an awful mess. My eyes are definitely red and swollen. I’m wearing sweatpants and my ratty Old Navy t-shirt with a huge hole in the armpit. But despite all that, the look he gives me, the fire burning in his eyes, tells me he thinks I’m gorgeous anyways.
“Sorry to interrupt, but could I talk to Jenna for a minute?” he says in that deep bass voice that makes me shiver.
I glance over at my parents, who give me the slightest nod. I stand up and head to him and I’m so shocked that I don’t have any words. My stomach flips over, and there’s all sorts of emotion battling it out inside of me: anger, worry, sadness, and worst of all, hope. Because even though I thought I could get over him, thought that I could put him behind me, seeing him in front of me has crumbled all of my resolve.
Our house is small, and I don’t want my parents hanging on our every word, so I bring him upstairs to my bedroom. My very pink, never been redecorated since fifth grade bedroom. There’s even a poster of Miley Cyrus on the back of the door, back when she was in Hannah Montana. I really should have torn that down, I think nervously. I have no clue why he’s here.
“So…” I say softly, and look up into those dark gray eyes. I can feel everything that’s happened fall away, as if we were never apart to begin with.
“Jenna,” is all Lachlan says.
I love the way he says it, almost caressing my name. And then I mentally shake myself out of it, because he’s put me through hell, and I can’t just sweep it under the rug like that.
“Why are you here?” I ask him. “Why are you here, in my parents’ house, in my childhood bedroom, of all places?”
“I came to apologize,” he says. “I fucked up big with you, and it’s taken me this long to realize it.”
I’ve been waiting for these words for days, and even though I want to throw my arms around him, I don’t. I wrap them around myself instead to physically hold myself back.
“That’s not enough to erase the hurt you caused,” I say quietly. “Those words in the hotel room, I can’t just forget them.”
Lachlan looks at me, and I see remorse written all over his face. And even more than that, I see agony. I’m shocked. Lachlan’s never ever looked as vulnerable and open as he does with me right now.
“I know that Jenna,” he says at last. “I can’t take back those words. That day I panicked. It’s no excuse for letting you down, for leaving us behind, but that’s what happened. I got caught up in what everyone else was thinking, about my company, about all this other bullshit that in the end, doesn’t matter. If the world looks down on me, I can shake that off. If Buchanan Manufacturing crumbles, I can rebuild. But what I can’t do is go on without you. These past few days have been hell, and it’s because I don’t have you by my side. Because deep down, I know I was an idiot for leaving you.”
His voice is cracking, and my heart is thuds faster and faster. My vision swims with tears, and no matter how fast I brush them away, more come.
“I love you Jenna,” he says. “And I don’t ever want to let you go again.”
“I love you too Lachlan,” I say.
And then I’m flying into his arms, because that’s exactly where I belong. It’s where I fit perfectly. His mouth comes down on mine in a kiss that shows me just how much he loves me. I kiss him back, holding tight onto his shirt, matching him in intensity. And that feeling of belonging, of protection, of everything finally being right in my world… well, I’m never going to let that go again either.
Epilogue
Lachlan
One and a half years later…
“Happy Birthday baby,” I say as Jenna comes through the door.
I’ve worked hard to make her dinner tonight. I’m a terrible cook, and most of the time I burn stuff, but I’ve been practicing these past few weeks, and I’ve managed to put together a meal to be proud of. Granted, the garlic bread came from the bakery section, but I did make the roast salmon and mushrooms all on my own. I knew better than to try to make my own cheesecake. That I got from the cheesecake factory. White chocolate with raspberry, her favorite. I’ve got candles going on the table, the lights turned down low, and even some music playing. Considering that it’s taken me the better part of the day to put this all together, I think it’s pretty good. I even managed to get most of the dishes into the dishwasher, so Jenna doesn’t have to worry about a dirty kitchen.
“Wow Lachlan! Did you do all this for me?” she gasps, her hands coming to her face.
A giant diamond ring sparkles in the candlelight. We got engaged three months ago, as soon as Jenna graduated from college with her degree in interior design. I know she wanted to wait until she achieved her dream, but I’m glad to finally have a ring on her and let people know she’s mine. She’s been planning the wedding in between her clients, of which she’s got quite a few. It started out with small jobs at first, for friends and our acquaintances. But then Ollie introduced her to a TV producer, and from there it sort of spiraled. Now she’s the hot new interior designer for the Hollywood set, and she has to jet back and forth between San Francisco and L.A. a few times a month. It makes me fucking sick to have her away from me, but I know this is her dream.
She turns around and surveys my hard work. I can tell she’s impressed by everything I’ve done, but I want nothing but the best for my girl. Today she’s wearing a beautiful cashmere sweater dress, the soft wool hugging her breasts and hips. I pull her close, my hands squeezing her breasts, pinching her perfect pink nipples to attention. My dick’s hard as a rock just looking at her.
“You’re not even going to wait until after dinner?” she asks, quirking a brow.
“Do you want to wait, birthday girl?” I growl.
“Not really,” she says with a grin.
“Good,” I say as I grab the hem of her dress and pull it over her head. “The foods not ready to be taken out of the oven anyways.”
I walk her back until she’s up against the kitchen island, my head lowering down to suckle at one of her pink nipples. The lace fabric is pathetic at covering her up, and I easily pop her breast out of the cup. I suck on the hard tip, tugging just hard enough to make her cry out. Her his rock against my hard-on, making it go completely stiff. Her body’s so soft, her scent so inviting, and I burrow my head deeper into those succulent breasts of hers. Some days I still can’t believe that I’m the only one who gets to fuck this beautiful woman.
I reach my hands
down, over the tiny g-string that Jenna’s wearing today. It’s practically just string, and her puffy pussy lips have swollen right over the edges. I run my finger over her clit, engorged and quivering, protruding out from her pussy. Seeing it has me salivating, and I drop down to my knees.
“Yes,” she coos breathily as I push the panties to the side.
Her sweet pink cunt, carefully spread apart, reveals itself to me. The walls are a gorgeous pink, deepening into a glistening red towards her hole. I lean in, smelling that female musk, that gorgeous scent of Jenna cunt. I savor the taste of her, my hot mouth all over that quivering flesh. Her pussy is beautiful, and I dive in, running my tongue up and down those lips, swirling over her quivering nub before giving the channel a lick.
Jenna moans loudly, head tossed back, inhibitions thrown aside as I part her slick labia and dive deeper. I kiss her pussy over and over, sucking, licking, tasting, and I’m rewarded with soft moans and whines from her. I love eating her out, my tongue working her over, until she comes, spasming on my mouth, her hips fucking my face as I drink up all her honey. Her pussy quivers, giving it up, releasing waves of her female juice.
I stand back up, and Jenna kisses me. She loves tasting herself on my lips after all. My tongue plunders her mouth, and I lift her onto one of the barstools. Her fingers undo my buckle, and then the button of my jeans, letting my cock spring out. It’s deep purple, veins bulging with lust, already wet with my own cum. I let it drip onto her cunt as I grip onto the shaft, pumping a few times just to ease the ache. I waste no time sliding my huge dick into her sweet pussy, putting pressure behind the thrust. My hands cup her round ass, squeezing the flesh before pulling her even tighter against me.
“Fuck,” I hiss between gritted teeth. “Fucking hell.”
Jenna’s still as tight as the day I met her, and because all I’ve got was my tongue in her, she’s not stretched at all, her pussy walls practically suctioning themselves onto my shaft. I watch all ten inches disappear into her, and I pull out again. Fuck that’s a sight I’ll never get tired of.
Throwing her leg up onto the island forces Jenna back, her hands grabbing onto the back of the barstool. She’s spread as wide as possible, letting me fuck her tight cunt with abandon. She’s crying out with every fuck, the sensation of my cock driving her crazy. Her hot heat enveloping my dick has my balls tightening against me, and I jackhammer faster into her, willing her to come with me. My hand grabs at one bouncing tit, rolling her pink tip between my fingers. Jenna’s screaming out my name, my dick aching with desire, with the need to finish inside of her, own her pussy completely. Those tight walls clamp down all around my cock, shivering as her orgasm rocks her whole body, and I have to hold onto her, keep her upright as I stuff my cock into her one last time. Her pussy’s gushing like a waterfall, and the rhythmic clenching’s too fucking much to take, and I roar as I come, my dick throbbing as I release my seed, hot white jets of cum spurting into her pussy like a garden hose, her tiny sweet pussy just gulping it down, every last bit of milky goodness.
Finally I pull out slowly, Jenna’s pussy still clenching with aftershocks, unwilling to let my dick go. I loved this part, loved seeing her grip onto me, my cock literally coated in our mixed juices. Her pussy trembles, bruised and open now that my cock’s left it, and I see a river of my pearly seed slowly leak out of those delicate folds unable to be contained there was so much of it. And then she reaches down and scoops up a handful and licks it off her finger.
Damn. I know it’s supposed to be her birthday, but I think I’m the one who’s getting a treat tonight. Jenna peers at me between thick lashes, her breasts wobbling from exertion as she struggles to get her breath back.
“Talk about a perfect birthday,” she practically purrs. “Dinner and a show.”
Just then, the timer goes off. I go over to the counter, pull on my mitts, and open up the door. I pull out the cast iron, and to my dismay, the whole top half of the fish is burnt. What the fuck happened to it? Jenna peers over my shoulder and laughs.
“Looks about right for your cooking.”
I shake my head in frustration.
“It was supposed to be perfect,” I mutter. I poke it with a spatula, but yeah, it’s definitely done for. I throw the skillet down into the sink.
“Hey,” she says, turning me around to face her. “Who needs dinner anyways? Let’s just have more dessert.”
Her fingers trace over my chest, headed down towards my cock. Her meaning is clear. Somehow I’ve landed this perfect woman. Somehow, despite everything, we’ve come together.
“I love you Jenna,” I say to her, putting everything I have into those four words.
“I love you too Lachlan,” she says right back.
And then we tumble onto the kitchen floor together.
*****
Can’t get enough of the story? Sign up for my mailing list and get a bonus chapter at http://eepurl.com/ceagmn
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my book, please leave a review and let me know!
Want to be an ARC reader? Apply at http://eepurl.com/cedD7H
Catch my book cover reveals, teasers, and more at www.facebook.com/lilayounger
Please enjoy the first chapter of my book Loving My Best Friend’s Dad!
“Hey, I’ve got a serious question for you Em,” my best friend and roommate Renee says.
“Hm?”
I’m trying to figure out just what Kant is talking about for my philosophy and ethics paper, so I’m not really paying attention. Have you ever read Kant? The guy is hard to understand. And repetitive. And it’s like trying to run through mud getting through this material.
“Have you ever, just… lived?”
The question slowly makes its way through my brain and I look up. This has to be a joke right? I’m trying to get through this stuff. But nope, her sparkling blue eyes are deadly serious. She’s sitting on her single bed, legs crossed, movie paused, just waiting for an answer. I frown. Is there some kind of trick to this question?
“What do you mean?” I ask at last.
Renee leans forward, her pretty face earnest.
“It’s not that complicated of a question Em,” she says. “I’m asking you if you’ve ever lived a little? Let loose?”
Oh. Now I get it.
“Of course I’ve lived a little,” I tell her annoyed that she’s interrupting me for this. Now I’ll have to re-read the whole passage again. Whatever I thought I understood of Kant is gone, not that there was much. Like I said, the guy is difficult. But Renee isn’t giving up.
“When?”
I sigh and throw down my pencil. Clearly I’m not going to get anywhere with this until I’ve satisfied Renee’s curiosity. Why she has to pick a time like this is beyond me. I’m generally good at organizing my time so I don’t have anything due at the last minute, but even I have my academic limits. And I guess it ends with Kant and his convoluted German translated works. I picked pre-med because I’m good with the facts, with logic and reasoning and that sort of thing. But ethics is a required course (which I suppose is important if I’m going to be a doctor), and even though philosophy claims to be logical, it sure isn’t sometimes.
“Tell me about a time when instead of following your planner, instead of planning out every possibility and controlling all the outcomes, you just, just,” Renee dramatically throws out her arms here, “let the Universe take charge?”
Okay, so I like to know what’s going on. I like to have lists and check them off. But I don’t think it’s as bad as she’s making it out to be. After all, it’s helped me land a full ride scholarship and it’s what’s getting me through my pre-med classes. I suppose to Renee though, it must seem like torture. She’s the definition of a free spirit, and in her third year, she still hasn’t chosen exactly what major she wants to be. Not that she needs to worry about that. She comes from a wealthy family, so she can take as long as she wants. In fact, the only reason she’s in university at all is because her grandf
ather made that a condition of her getting her trust fund. Luckily her grandmother never specified which university, because Renee’s grades are seriously bad.
“It’s happened,” I tell her, stalling for time while I think. I mean, it shouldn’t be that hard right? I run my hands through my honey streaked hair. “Remember when we decided to go to Subway and it was closed randomly so we went to Dairy Queen?”
Renee gives me a deadpan stare. I don’t blame her. It’s not exactly letting the universe decide, but still! I didn’t go into a tailspin when plans changed like she’s implying.
“Okay, so I don’t like to let a coin flip decide any life changing decisions,” I tell her. “That doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“No, but it does make you a teensy bit boring, and I mean that in the most loving way,” she says. “I mean, you haven’t even dated since you got to college.”
Ah. Here it is. The real truth behind it all. When I told Renee that I’ve never dated and don’t intend to until I finish med school, she about keeled over in shock. Not that she’s always got a man on her arm, but she just couldn’t believe that someone like me wouldn’t have someone at some point in her life. But I hadn’t. Mostly because I was really focused on academics and got labeled as a nerd in high school, and then I just sort of, got stuck in that frame of mind I guess. I don’t think I’m missing out on much though. From what Renee tells me, college guys are just as awkward and fumbling as high school ones.
“I haven’t found the right person to date,” I tell her. “You of all people should know how terrible the selection is here.”
Renee wrinkles her nose.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” she says, slumping a little. Then she straightens up. “But that’s not why I was asking!”
“So what was your reason?”
“Well, you know how you’re coming with me for Spring Break…? Well, I thought we could go a day early!”
It had taken a lot of convincing on Renee’s part to get me to go. It’s not that I hate the city, or I’m afraid of it or anything. It’s just I had a lot of schoolwork to get done. It wasn’t until she promised that I would at least get to study for a few days that I agreed to go. And I am excited. I come from a small town, smaller than this one, and I know New York will be so much more fun and exciting in comparison.