by Wendy Owens
I lower myself to my knees, leaning in and kissing his side, his hip. Releasing the top snap of his jeans, I pull them open slowly, pressing my lips against the flesh that had been hidden by the denim. He moans as he exhales, and I feel a shiver run through my body. He lifts his pelvis toward my face to pull his jeans from under his bottom. Once they are free, I take it the rest of the way, pulling them from his legs. He leans forward, slipping off his socks, and I can’t help but giggle at his eagerness.
Licking my lips, my eyes shift to his erection, then with a grin, I look back into his eyes. There’s an intense longing in them that excites me. He shifts and moves toward me, reaching around, and with ease, he unhooks my bra, pulling it from my shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor. Lifting me by my upper arms, he places me on the couch next to him.
Gladly, I relinquish the reins to him. He lowers himself on top of me, our skin pressed against one another’s, the only barrier at this point the underwear we each wear. His lips caress my neck, my shoulder, and as I take in a sharp breath I feel him take my nipple into his mouth. There’s a comfort between us; I’m his and he’s mine.
I rock my hips, pressing his hardness deeper into my thigh, wishing there were no longer a barrier between us. I moan, thrusting upward again.
“Oh God, Dean, please, I…” My words trail off into a deep breath.
He lifts his head from my breasts. “You what?” he asks with a smile.
“I need you.”
One of his hands shifts down and slips inside my panties, and he begins moving two fingers. My body convulses, as he once again takes my nipple in his mouth. One finger slides just inside me, while his thumb begins to massage my clit. My face is hot, and I feel like I am teetering on the edge of a cliff, ready to plunge over. The sensation is building deep inside of me.
He doesn’t relent with my moans; this only inspires him to increase the intensity. As I writhe beneath him, I shift my hand from the fabric it was gripping and take a sizable hold of the hair on the back of his head. I pull until he lifts his head and our eyes meet.
“Fuck me,” I command, not recognizing the sound of my voice. His hand slips away for a moment, and he wiggles on top of me. I realize he’s removing his underwear, so I move, tugging at the waistband of my own. Propping up onto his knees at the foot of the couch, now completely naked, he lunges forward to assist me. I lift my bottom, and he slides off the black lace in a flash. My stomach is no longer fluttering, but instead it’s aching with desire.
Leaning forward, I take his length into my hands and guide the head of his cock until it's pressing against my folds. He’s leaning over me now, staring into my eyes, and I can no longer hold him at bay. I want him as much as he wants me. He presses in ever so slightly so that my guidance is no longer required. But he doesn’t move any farther. He’s simply looking in my eyes, and I wonder what he’s waiting for. Does he want me to beg for it, because at this point I will.
I give a nod and realize that is exactly what he is waiting for. An indication that I am ready and that he is welcome. My thoughts scatter as I feel him thrust deep inside of me, taking in the full length of him in an instant. The tightness of me around him renders me in a state of complete bliss.
A glimpse of Travis flashes in my mind, but I don’t panic this time. I close my eyes and bite my lip and pull Dean flat against me. My chin is pressed over his shoulder. I whisper both to Dean and to my Travis, “I’m okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
As the words leave my lips, I can feel Dean collapse deeper into me. I dig my fingernails into his back and squeak, “Oh god!” Warmth floods me as my abdomen begins to pulse. Feeling my release, Dean pauses and pulls away, our eyes meeting as he allows the pleasure to overtake him, thrusting and pulsing deep inside me.
I can’t look away from him. The moment envelops us in a cocoon that I never want to end. After he collapses to the side of me, the first instance of sadness occurs when I feel him pull out of me. It’s an emptiness I don’t want to feel again, but I take comfort in knowing I will, many times.
“Wow,” he laughs, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Yeah,” I giggle in agreement.
Our bodies press up against each other, side by side on the couch. He’s staring at me. “What?” I groan, covering my face for a moment. He pulls my hand away, still looking at me.
“You’re beautiful.” When he says it I believe it.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I joke, before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss.
Propping himself up on one arm, he hovers over my face and asks me, “Are you happy?”
I smile, pleased to share the answer, “More than I ever thought I could be.”
Licking his lips, he continues, “Until this moment I never felt like it, but now I can see, I really am the luckiest man alive.” His fingers trace the outline of my cheek.
Taking in a deep breath, I slowly press all the air out from my lungs. Until this moment I hated when people talked about luck, but from Dean, a man who knows what it means to be stuck between hope and doubt, it is one of the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.
Three years later…
The initial sign is staring at me, but I wait impatiently for the second test result to materialize. I can’t say anything to Dean until I’m certain. What do I say to him if it’s positive?
“Baby, you’re all I want, your love is all I need, and when I’m with you, I feel like I’m in my personal heaven.” He spoke those words to me two weeks ago, and I’d never felt so thankful Dean had come in and turned my life upside down. “Mac, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He had asked in front of our restaurant full of patrons. After, he joked that it was his clever way of forcing me to say yes.
I can already see the plus sign begin to materialize.
My heart rattles in my chest as there’s a knock at the door. I stand and open it. Dean is staring back at me.
“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” he asks. I’m puzzled by his question at first. But then I realize tears are streaming down my cheeks.
I open my mouth and try to speak, but no words come out. I look back at the sink, and his eyes follow mine. He sees the pregnancy test, and it suddenly becomes clear. I brace myself for his reaction.
“Are you?” he begins, his voice full of excitement. “Jesus, really? Are you sure?”
I nod, still sobbing.
“That’s amazing! We’re going to be parents.”
My crying becomes heavier; Dean wraps an arm around me and guides me to our bedroom, helping me to the bed. He sits next to me, and I wonder if he thinks I’ve finally lost my mind.
“Why are you crying, sweetie?”
I can only manage one word, and I hope it’s enough for him to understand, “Katie.”
He pulls me in tight against his body, smoothing my hair, and I hope I haven’t upset him. I can’t imagine what it must be like to experience life events in the way he has had to endure. As soon as he escapes from Travis’s shadow, now our child must deal with that same weight of Katie’s memory.
I feel his lips press against the top of my head before he pulls away from me.
“This is a good thing, I promise.”
“But what about Katie?” I ask, knowing full well I don’t make sense.
“What about her?”
“I don’t want her to think I forgot her,” I say, pinching my nose for a moment in an attempt to stop the snot flow.
“Macaroon, that will never happen. Our babies will know all about Katie, and we’ll make sure they know that one day, after they have lived their full lives and have great-grand-babies of their own, it will be time to go and meet their big sister in heaven.” Dean’s words make my chest ache. I look at him and, in my gaze, I know he can see how much he means to me.
“Well, you do have this nifty tattoo to make sure she knows you’re always thinking about her.” His fingertips run over the lines. “But, I think the only thing we can do is make sur
e Katie is everywhere around you all the time.”
“And how do we do that?” I ask in a nasally tone, my eyes stinging.
“Come on,” he says, standing up and pulling me up by my hands. “This calls for some fresh ink.”
“What?” I gasp.
“Well, not you silly, you’re pregnant. No tattoos for you for nine months.” He smiles, pausing and turning to face me. Pressing my hair behind my ears, he delivers me a gentle kiss. “I’m going to get a tattoo for Katie, so that whenever our baby sees it or you see it, you will know she was a part of you then, and will therefore always be a part of us.”
“Seriously?” I chime in disbelief.
“Yeah! What? You don’t like it?”
“Dean Johnson, I do believe I am the luckiest woman alive.”
“Absolutely.” He smiles. “I’m quite sure you’re right about that. I mean, I’m a catch.”
Even though he’s joking, I know it’s the truth. I really am the luckiest.
As always, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my readers, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You all have shared my books with other readers, purchased my books, and left reviews. I couldn’t do any of this without you; I’m still in awe every day.
Thanks goes out to my editor, Madison Seidler, fantastic job as usual. I’m a royal pain in the ass who never meats her deadlines and has about a million panic attacks yet you still keep on supporting and pushing me.
Thanks as well to Rare Bird Editing for polishing up the final product. You have been an awesome addition to the team and I look forward to working with you on future projects as well.
A shout out to Stacey Blake for formatting my book and making it look pretty and clean. My wine drinking diva, you are a blessing.
I also want to thank Sarah Hansen, of Okay Creations for really cranking up the heat on this one and making an awesome book cover. It is beautiful and complements the series perfectly.
I can’t forget my community of Indie Authors who supports me daily. There are far too many of you to list, but you all know who you are and how important you are to me.
To my husband, Joshua, I love that you love all the broken pieces of me. You’re my rock and without you I couldn’t do any of this. To my three amazing children, mommy is so proud of you. And thankful you understand why we always have a messy house and a back up of laundry around deadline time. I love you to the moon and back.
Wendy Owens was raised in the small college town of Oxford, Ohio. After attending Miami University, Wendy went on to a career in the visual arts. After several years of creating and selling her own artwork, she gave her first love, writing, a try.
Wendy now happily spends her days writing—her loving dachshund, Piper, curled up at her feet. When she’s not writing, she can be found spending time with her tech geek husband and their three amazing kids, exploring the city she loves to call home: Cincinnati, OH.
YA Paranormal
The Guardians Series (Complete)
Sacred Bloodlines
Unhallowed Curse
The Shield Prophecy
The Guardians Crown
Contemporary Romance
Stubborn Love Series
Stubborn Love
Only In Dreams
The Luckiest
The Wandering Hearts Series
Do Anything
It Matters To Me COMING WINTER 2014/15
Jack’s Redemption COMING SPRING 2015
Dystopian Science Fiction
Trilogy coming in 2014 and 2015 - more info to follow at the links below
For more info on Wendy’s novels visit:
http://wendy-owens.com/
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