by Abbi Glines
“’Bye, Jimmy. And thanks,” I called out.
He blew me a kiss and closed the door behind him.
I waited a moment until he was away from the door before answering.
“Hello.”
“You think you have him, but you don’t. He was fucking me before you, and he’ll be fucking me after you.”
I held the phone in my hand long after the woman had ended the call.
An hour later, Mase called to tell me he was home safe but he was exhausted. He’d call me tomorrow.
The next morning, I refused to think about the strange phone call. It could have been a wrong number. She never said Mase’s name. I shoved it aside and finally called Blaire Finlay to set up a meeting with her for the next week about cleaning her house. Then I went to the store and paid my bills for the week.
I came back to the apartment and cleaned it from top to bottom. By the time I had to meet with Dr. Munroe, I was better. I had gotten myself together, and I knew that when I called Mase that night, all would be well.
I was just missing him.
That was all this was.
Mase
I undressed and lay back on the bed while listening to Reese read me her newest book. She seemed off tonight or nervous. I wasn’t sure which. I had to help her several times. Once she reached the end of chapter two, I was going to let her stop. This book was more difficult, and she seemed tired.
“Do you want me to keep going?” she asked.
“That’s good. You’re doing so much better, baby. I’m so proud of you.” And I was. She was reading on a fourth-grade level already. Dr. Munroe said it was because she had tried hard to learn in school, and she had learned. She just hadn’t been shown how to deal with her disability. Now that she was working with it, she was picking up quickly and utilizing things she’d already been taught.
“My writing isn’t the best, but I wrote a letter today. It wasn’t a real one. I was supposed to write a fake one to someone thanking them for a gift. I only messed up two words. Dr. Munroe was pleased.” The pride in her voice made my chest tighten. I loved knowing that she was proud of her accomplishments. She should be.
“I’m waiting for you to write me a letter,” I told her. I could keep it tucked in my pocket all day and pull it out when I needed my Reese fix.
She laughed softly. “Not ready for that yet. Let me get better at it. I don’t want Dr. Munroe correcting a letter I wrote to you. So it will have to come to you unedited.”
Nothing she gave me could be less than perfect. Because it would be her. What she wrote. If she mixed up every letter and every word, then that was the way they were fucking meant to be. Because she would have written them for me.
“Don’t care how many mistakes are in it, Reese. It would be from you. That’s all that matters,” I told her.
She made a soft little sigh. “You say the sweetest things.”
I could say even sweeter things if she’d let me. I was tempted to try. Swear to God, I could still smell her on my hand. I’d put those fingers up to my nose and inhaled all damn day.
“What are you wearing, Reese?” I asked.
“Your T-shirt, just like I’m supposed to,” she replied. I could hear the amusement in her voice.
“Go lie down on your bed for me.” I was testing her. I’d stop if she balked even once.
“OK,” she breathed. “I’m on my bed.”
Fuck. Yes. She was playing along.
“You lying down?” I wanted her on her back with her legs open for me.
“Yes.” Her response was quick and anxious-sounding. She knew what I was wanting.
“Will you let those pretty legs fall open for me, baby?” I waited, not knowing if she’d go this far.
After only a few seconds, she replied. “Yes.”
I pulled my hardening cock out of my briefs and wrapped my hand around it. The image of Reese lying back on her bed in my shirt with her legs open for me had me ready to get back on the damn plane.
“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Will you? Can I hear you pleasure yourself?”
She was breathing heavily. “Will you?”
“Will I what, baby?”
“Will you do it, too?”
Grinning, I stroked my length. “Already doing it. The fact that you’re on your bed with those legs open wearing my shirt has me so damn turned-on I’m aching.”
“Oh,” she said, then let out a soft moan.
Fuck . . . me . . . she was doing it. “Where’re your fingers?”
“On my . . . down there,” she replied.
Oh, yeah. I closed my eyes and let her voice and the image of what she was doing take over my thoughts. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yeaaah,” she said, with a hitch in her breathing.
“Play with it easy for me. Make my sweet pussy feel good. I’m not there to take care of it. I need you to, and let me hear you. I wanna hear those sounds you make.”
“Ahhh!” she cried out. She loved my words.
“Rub that hard, swollen clit. I want to kiss it. So bad . . . Run my tongue along the tender spots and then suck that hot button into my mouth until you pull my hair and scream my name.”
“Ohhhh, God,” she moaned.
“That’s it. Think about my head between those legs. All open for me. I can lick and lap up all that sweetness. Just me. Right there with you. Just us, baby. Your hands fisted in my hair and my hands . . . my hands on your creamy smooth thighs, holding you open. Breathing you in.”
“Mase! Oh . . . aaaaah!”
Her release gave me my own. I listened as she rode it out and wished to God I was there to see it.
Reese
Over the next week, I didn’t just read to Mase at night. We ended our evenings doing other things . . .
Smiling at my secret, I spent extra time brushing my hair. I had cleaned Harlow’s house twice and met with Blaire Finlay. She was going to need someone three days a week. I had to talk to Harlow about working in her two days and Blaire’s three days to meet everyone’s needs. Blaire’s current house-cleaner hadn’t retired yet, so there was time to figure it out. She had two more weeks.
Jimmy had found out earlier in the week that today was my birthday. He’d decided he was taking me out. I hadn’t done anything more than celebrate all alone most of my life. I remembered having a cake once when I was seven. My mother had made one and invited the neighborhood children over. I’d thought she had done it for me, and for a little while, I had felt so special.
Then, later that day, I had found her in the bathroom on her knees in front of one of the dads at the party. He had been saying things I didn’t want to remember while she gripped his thighs and gave him a blow job. That man lived across the street with his wife and two kids.
I had realized that not only was something wrong with what my mother was doing, but she had thrown this party to get close to that man. Not to me. It was my first and last birthday cake.
Tonight I would make a new memory. Jimmy wanted us to go dancing and eat cake. So we were going to do just that. I would celebrate turning twenty-three with someone who cared about me.
Stepping back and looking into the mirror, I felt like I was pretty. The dress I had on was a soft orange and reminded me of a sunset. It was strapless and belted at my waist with a brown woven belt that fell to mid-thigh. I had slipped on the cowboy boots I’d bought to please Mase. He hadn’t seen them yet, but I used some of my savings to buy them. They were on sale for half-price, so I had only spent a little too much on them instead of a lot.
The knock on the door was followed by an “Open up, birthday girl!”
I smiled and went to let Jimmy inside.
He let out a low whistle and twirled his finger in the air for me to spin around. “I’m gonna have to act straight tonight to keep the men off you. Damn, woman, you clean up fine.”
Laughing, I grabbed the small clutch I�
�d bought last year at a thrift store but never had a chance to use. It was metallic gold but simple, with a wristlet strap. “Let’s go dance,” I told him, as he took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.
“I got moves, girl. You just wait.”
I had no doubt he did.
We headed into town instead of out of it, but I knew there was nowhere to dance in Rosemary Beach. Frowning, I glanced over at Jimmy, who was singing “Born in the U.S.A.” and tapping his steering wheel like it was drums.
“Where are we dancing?” I asked.
“Ah, some place called FloraBama,” he replied, flashing me a smile that was too big. Something was off.
“But we aren’t headed out of town,” I pointed out.
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Gotta drop something off first at the club.”
Well, that made sense. I sat back and watched the small town pass by as we turned into the back entrance of the club where the workers parked. Jimmy drove down toward a shell road that seemed to lead out to the water.
Was he dropping something off at the beach?
“Here we are,” he said, smiling at me as he swung open the door. We had driven down as far as we could go.
“If you’ll just walk down this wooden walkway toward that light up ahead,” Jimmy said, pointing me toward what looked like the top of a small tent from here. There were palm trees in the way.
“Do you need me to drop it off?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was asking me.
“Yep. Only you can drop off you. Happy birthday, Reese. You look amazing. Now, go follow that path,” he said with a wink, then climbed back into his car and drove off. I stood there looking at the path and back to where Jimmy had left.
It was then that it starting sinking in. Jimmy had dropped me off. Me. I turned and headed down the wooden path. Halfway down, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I started to run. I knew who was going to be at the end of this path. I knew who he’d dropped me off to. And I wanted to get there.
Once I broke free out of the palm-lined walkway, I saw him.
He was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of khaki shorts. He stood inside a white tent illuminated by candlelight, with a three-tiered birthday cake beside him. It was a pretty pale pink and sparkled under the dim lights. Silver balloons filled the tent.
“Happy birthday, Reese,” Mase said, smiling.
I let out a startled laugh, then burst into tears and ran for him.
He met me halfway, picked me up in his arms, and buried his face in my neck. “Surprise.”
I leaned back and kissed him hard. I didn’t know how else to express the emotion that was barreling through me. It was so overwhelming, I felt like I might combust from happiness. He’d done this all for me. A cake and balloons. And most importantly, him.
“How did you know it was my birthday?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious: Jimmy. I had thought about telling Mase but worried he’d think I was asking him to come back again. I didn’t want that, so I’d just kept it to myself.
“You should have been the one to tell me, not Jimmy. I never want to miss your birthday. Ever.”
I wiped the tears from my face and beamed up at this wonderful man who for some reason wanted to be with me. “You and your words,” I said, then kissed him again.
His big, strong hands wrapped around my waist and held me there as we tasted and fed off each other. Having him here with me was the best birthday gift ever. Even without a cake and balloons. He was perfect.
“Come on, you have to blow out the candles, and then I get to feed you cake,” he murmured against my lips.
“That’s a lot of cake for just us,” I said, not even trying to pretend I didn’t love that he got me a ginormous cake.
He chuckled. “We’ll eat our fill, and you can take some home, and then we can send the leftovers to friends.”
I liked that idea. “I may eat too much,” I said, looking at the creamy icing and already licking my lips. I would have to walk for days nonstop to burn off these calories.
Mase winked at me. “Good. I like the idea of that hot ass jiggling a little more.”
I really needed to fan myself.
He stuck a candle into the top tier and shrugged. “I was going to get twenty-three candles, but Harlow pointed out that the breeze out here was too much. I’d never get them to stay lit. So I went with the one.”
He struck a match and hovered over the candle to protect it as he lit it.
“Make a wish, baby.”
I couldn’t think of anything I didn’t have right now . . . except for one thing. But I knew wishes didn’t take away the past. They couldn’t change what had been done. So instead, I said a small thank you for what I’d been given and blew out the candle.
Mase began slicing a very large piece of cake and took a fork and looked up at me. “Come sit with me.” He nodded to the white chaise longue that sat in the corner overlooking the gulf.
He sat down and opened his arms for me to sink into. I was half on top of him when his arms wrapped around me.
“That piece is too big,” I said, eyeing the red filling.
“We’re sharing,” he informed me. “Open up.”
I did as he said, and Mase slid the bite into my mouth. The sweet cream of the icing and the raspberry filling were delicious. “Mmm,” I said approvingly.
“I like watching you eat. And feeding you,” Mase said, as he scooped up another piece of the cake. He started moving it to my mouth, but I shook my head.
“Your piece,” I informed him.
“Watching your tongue dart out to lick your lips and listening to you moan is so much better than me eating this cake,” he said, and he rubbed some of the icing on my mouth.
I opened my mouth, trying not to laugh as he slipped in another bite.
“Yeah, there comes that tongue,” he said, sounding completely fascinated with watching me eat my cake.
I finished chewing and swallowed, then shook my head again. “I need a break in between bites,” I told him, laughing while he held another piece up to my face.
“I like your boots,” he said, instead of arguing with me. “I want to see you in nothing but those boots.”
My purchase had been well worth the cost.
“Please eat more for me. It’s so fucking sexy,” he begged, running his nose up my neck.
Giggling, I turned and looked at him. “How is me eating sexy?”
Mase smirked, ran a hand down my back, and squeezed my ass. “For several reasons.”
“You take a bite,” I said, picking up the fork and holding it to his mouth.
He ate obediently, and I kissed the icing off his lips.
“I can see the advantage of me eating it, too, now,” he said when I pulled back.
Smiling, I leaned back against his chest and enjoyed the view of the crashing waves in front of me. My legs tangled with his, and he continued to feed me. I let him.
Because I loved this man.
Mase
Reese had given up on the piece of cake, and I’d finally put it down. I had to admit, just seeing her eat it satisfied me, knowing it was a birthday cake that I’d picked out and given to her.
I shifted so she could settle between my legs. I pulled her back against me before giving her the first present.
“Happy birthday,” I said, picking up the largest box sitting beside me.
She gasped as she took the box. She glanced back at me before looking at the box again. “You got me a present?” she asked, amazed. “I mean, I thought you were my present, but this . . .”
Smiling, I kissed her temple. “No, this is your party, and I’m your only guest, because I’m selfish and wanted you all to myself. And this is your first present.”
“My first?” she asked, and I nodded.
Then she surprised me. She tore into that gift like she was five years old. Watching her open it was more exciting than feeding her cake, an
d that had been pretty damn exciting.
When she had the lid off the box, she pulled out the baby-blue Michael Kors purse I’d had Blaire help me pick out.
“There’s a matching wallet in there, too.”
She touched it reverently as if it were made of fine gold instead of leather. “This is expensive, isn’t it?”
Not really. It could have been worse. But I’d told Blaire to be practical. Reese needed an everyday purse, not something she would be too nervous to carry.
“It’s a nice purse for you to use instead of the backpack,” I explained.
She grinned and put it back into the box, then turned to me and kissed me softly on the lips. “Thank you. That’s the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten.”
This wasn’t over. I reached down and picked up the next present.
“There’s more? I thought you were kidding.”
“You better believe it.”
Again, she tore into it like a little kid, and I found myself wishing I had videotaped this to watch over and over.
She opened the box to find three sets of French silk pajamas. She picked up one of the shorts and held it up and then touched it to her face. Laying it down, she reached for a camisole. The pale pink one with the white lace trim. “These feel so soft,” she said in awe.
They should. They were the best.
“I like the idea of you in my T-shirt. But I also know you like your shorts and tank top because they’re soft. So I got you some other soft things to sleep in. Because when you’re with me, you won’t need my T-shirt to wrap around you.”
She laid it down in the expensive wrapping and let out a happy sigh. “Those are going to spoil me on pajamas for life.”
That was OK. I’d keep her in expensive French silk if she wanted it, for as long as she wanted it.
Again, she kissed me and whispered a thank you against my lips.
I reached for the third box. This one was the smallest. And it was more for me than for her.
“The last one,” I told her, as I handed her the rectangular box.
She opened it more carefully, as if she was afraid she would lose whatever was inside.