Stroke It

by Ivy Jordan

  Taylor opened the front door while I carried Bailey inside. She still had her face buried into my shoulder, and her little hands clung to me as I tried to peel her from my side. “What’s wrong?” I asked softly. “Don’t you want to open your eyes and see what it looks like in here?” I questioned.

  Her little face pulled from my shoulder, and her eyes widened as she looked around the living room. I had a large screen TV on the wall, and a special small recliner next to the large couch, just for Bailey. A shelf on the wall held books, mostly all kid’s stories that I thought she might enjoy. I’d done my best to make every room kid friendly, with a lot of help from Taylor. “Are those my books?” she asked, staring at the shelf. I nodded.

  She squirmed from my arms and walked to the coffee table, where Taylor had made a Lego building platform and started a pink house and red car. Bailey smiled as she touched the tiny blocks, and then looked up at me with eyes so bright they lit up the entire room. “Do I have a room here?” she asked.

  “Yes, you do,” I said eagerly, extending my hand to hers. Her tiny grip tightened around my fingers as I guided her down the hallway to her room. She let go of my fingers as we stood in the doorway, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree as she scanned the brightly colored room and all its contents.

  “I love it,” she squealed, running to her bed. She pulled herself onto the mattress and ran her little hand over the stitched blue whale on her quilt. “Mr. Whale,” she gasped. My heart raced from her excitement. I’d never known the whale to have a name, but was pleased she found him familiar. The little old lady I found online created it for me in less than a week with the picture I’d sent her on Bailey’s purple beach bag.

  “You’ve got lots of toys, but if there’s anything you need, just let me know, and we’ll get it,” I smiled.

  Taylor slipped in beside me, her hand entangled around mine as she let out a soft sigh. “I knew she’d love it,” she whispered.

  I stepped into the room, showing her everything in her toy box, pulling stuff out one by one. I pulled open her closet door, showing her all the adorable outfits Taylor helped me pick out hanging in a perfect row of bright colors and soft fabrics. “And if you get scared, there’s a soft cushion in here with a flashlight next to it where you can hide,” I informed her, pointing to the pad I’d made on the floor inside the closet.

  When I was little, and my dad was on one of his tangents, that was where I hid. I knew that Bailey’s life was going to be much different than mine, but I still wanted to ensure she had somewhere she could feel safe if ever scared. “I’m not afraid of anything,” she chuckled, narrowing her eyes at me with that familiar crooked smile of mine plastered on her face.

  Taylor giggled, causing Bailey to laugh even harder, and eventually, we were all three standing in the pink room laughing, for what, I wasn’t sure, but it felt amazing.

  “Okay, we need to pick you out something to wear,” I instructed, thumbing through the clothes.

  “Why?” she asked, still breathless from her laughter.

  “We’re going to dinner at the neighbors’ house,” I explained.

  “Who’s the neighbors?” she asked.

  “Clinton, he’s a super nice man, and his wife, Leah,” I smiled, pulling out a pretty blue dress from the hanger. “How about this?” I asked, holding the dress towards Bailey.

  She wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. I watched her work to get down from the bed, and then rush to my side. “Lift me,” she insisted, pointing to the clothes on the rack.

  I obliged, lifting her to my hip and allowing her the freedom to push through the clothes. “This,” she declared, pulling a pink princess dress from its hanger. It was meant to be more of a dress-up outfit than one you wear in public, but I wasn’t going to argue. Who am I to argue with this strong-willed three-year-old?

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Then you’ll need princess shoes,” I chuckled, pulling the play shoes made of plastic, but resembling glass slippers from the top shelf of the closet. Her eyes lit up again as she grabbed them from my hand. She held them close to her chest, rocking them back and forth like a newborn baby as I set her down.

  “Do you need help?” I asked, not sure what level of independence my daughter had at three.

  “Nope,” she insisted with a wide grin on her face.

  “Okay, well, Taylor and I are going to get dressed for dinner. If you need anything, just yell for one of us,” I told her and turned to leave her to get ready.

  Taylor fell onto my mattress as we entered my room. Her smile was wide and her eyes bright as she stared at me walking towards the closet. “You are an amazing father,” she blurted.

  I chuckled. “I’d hardly say that. I don’t even know what to do,” I admitted.

  “You’re doing just fine,” she insisted, raising up to prop her body with her elbows behind her.

  I felt like I was doing a good job, but it always made me feel better to hear Taylor assure me.

  I knocked on Clinton’s door with Bailey adorned in her pink princess dress and glass slippers at my left side, and Taylor in a beautiful blue sundress at my right. Clinton opened the door, his expression immediately filling with excitement as he invited us inside. “I didn’t know we were having royalty for dinner,” he gasped, leaning down to speak directly to Bailey. She giggled and then held her dress prettily between her pinched finger and thumb as she bowed before him.

  Leah reacted the same way Clinton had when she noticed Bailey’s flowing pink gown. Once they both had properly greeted the princess, they turned their attention to Taylor. “So glad to meet you,” Clinton said warmly, shaking Taylor’s hand with a firm grip. Leah pulled her in for a tight hug, just as she’d done me when we first met.

  Dinner conversation bounced from work on the house to Taylor’s work to Bailey’s world, filled with princesses, Mr. Whale, and a new daddy to get to know. They were warm people, Clinton and his wife, and I was glad we’d come to dinner. I enjoyed having them be a part of my world, one so new it still scared me to be in it at times.

  After dinner, Clinton ushered me to his office to enjoy a Cuban cigar, sent to him by his father-in-law who still lived in the country. I sat in the high-back chair, the same one I’d been so uncomfortable in before, and felt strangely at ease.

  “I want to thank you,” I smiled at the older man across from me, the one who’d taken the time to share my father’s last words with me. His eyebrows lifted high on his forehead, and he cocked his head to the left as if he didn’t have a clue what I was thanking him for.

  “If it wasn’t for you dragging me in here, making me listen to that tape, and telling me your own story, I don’t know if I would’ve stayed,” I admitted.

  Clinton shook his head and laughed. “Elijah, your past doesn’t have anything to do with your future. You wouldn’t’ve walked away from that little girl because that’s not who you are; it has nothing to do with who you were,” he smiled.

  His words were always slightly confusing, but comforting and strangely helpful. “Thank you, for everything, Clinton,” I reiterated.

  “And besides, even if it wasn’t for that little princess in there, I highly doubt you would’ve left Taylor,” he smirked. “She’s a keeper.”

  I leaned back in my chair, puffed on the expensive cigar, and smiled at Clinton. He was right. I don’t think I could’ve left Taylor, even if Bailey wasn’t thrown into the mix.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Taylor

  It had been just shy of a month since Bailey stayed her first night in Elijah’s house. I’d barely been at my own house since that night, and always dreaded going back there to water my plants, take out the garbage, or just to pick up more clothes. I’d practically moved in, without the formality of the event. But, I did have a key, and a car seat strapped in the backseat of my car for when I’d pick Bailey up after work to save Elijah the trip.

  I lay in Elijah’s bed, sinking into the soft mattress as I stared at him sleeping
. I didn’t want to wake him, but I knew as soon as I tried to slip out to make breakfas, he’d stir awake. The house was quiet, quieter than it had been for a month. We had a day of hiking planned, where Elijah would teach her some survival skills, some I was anxious to learn myself.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbled into the pillow as I started to slide my leg from the mattress to the floor. I froze in my spot, startled that he was awakened so easily.

  “Don’t even think about what?” I asked, pushing back the giggles that threatened escape from my lips.

  “About leaving this bed,” he growled playfully, rolling to his side and gripping my waist forcefully. The strength of his grip made me squeal with delight as he pulled me back onto the bed and into his bare chest.

  “Don’t you have to work today?” I asked, snuggling into his chest, hoping the answer was no.

  “Later,” he smirked.

  His house in Miami was on the market, and he was working with Isaac from the island. With the six hour time difference, Elijah could start his day at one o’clock instead of seven in the morning, but he was sometimes working until the wee hours of the night. I knew it was hard on him, giving up his daily routine, so he was working hard to make it as normal as possible while living so far away from all the action. Isaac kept him busy, researching clients, doing backgrounds checks, and organizing files, and with his day trading back on track, his weeks were busier than mine.

  “Did you book the trip?” I asked, looking up into his hungry eyes.

  “Yes ma’am, three first class tickets to Miami,” she smiled proudly.

  Bailey was excited to make the trip, and to meet some of the other SEALs, which she still didn’t understand were soldiers, not sea creatures. “The house is sold, so I just have to be at closing, and then we can spend the three wonderful days there enjoying the scenery,” he added with a long sigh.

  The scenery? I tried not to giggle, but one escaped anyway. I’d saw too many movies based in Miami, with old men, all retired and wearing golf pants. I couldn’t imagine much scenery.

  “Hey!” he exclaimed, rolling over onto me and pinning me to the mattress. I squealed with delight as his lips lowered to my neck, and then rolled to my mouth.

  His hand pushed my nightgown up around my hips, and his eyes lit up at the realization I wasn’t wearing panties.

  His fingers searched through my swollen flesh, playfully gliding through my slick arousal as he teased my cunt. The soft moans rolling from his throat vibrated my body, sending tiny shivers of excitement through each nerve ending. His cock rested against my leg, sliding back and forth against my bare skin as he rocked onto me, sending his fingers deep into my pussy with quick, exhilarating thrusts.

  My lips parted, allowing my own moans to escape between them as he leaned down, gently biting my bottom lip. Every move he made, every look he delivered was so sensual, so perfectly delivered, that my body reacted effortlessly to his touch.

  He lifted from me quickly, his weight missed as soon as it was gone. My chest felt light, empty, lonely, and I wanted him back against me, pressing me into the mattress. “Let’s get you out of this,” he grinned, tugging at my silky nightgown.

  I lifted my body, allowing him to slide the material up and over my hips, and then slowly over my breasts, my head, and then onto the floor. His eyes rested on my full breasts, his tongue slid across his bottom lip, and then he lowered for his first taste. I gasped as his mouth clamped onto my nipple, sucking on the hardened flesh until I let out a moan of pleasure. “You taste so fuckin’ good in the morning,” he chuckled, lowering himself between my legs.

  My legs parted, my lungs expelled their excess oxygen, and I squealed as his tongue flicked against my clit. He growled as he chewed on the meaty nub above my pussy, tugging on his hungrily as my body worked into a powerful arousal. I pulled at his head, trying to lift him back onto me, begging him to take me now, to stop teasing me with his mouth. “Breakfast of champions,” he smiled, finally lifting from between my legs. My body trembled from the approaching orgasm he lured closer to its edge as he let his weight fall back onto my chest, just enough to calm me, to soothe me from my overly aroused state.

  My hips widened as he entered me, pushing deep into my body with a quick thrust. I yelped, gripping his shoulders tightly with both hands, and let the rush of pleasure flow like waves in a storm from my breasts to my pussy, and then around his hard cock.

  He chuckled and then groaned in my ear. I knew he loved that he could make me come so quickly, so effortlessly, but mornings were not a time where he could hold back long, I knew.

  My hips rocked into his, grinding my sensitive clit into his pelvis. I moaned from the stimulation and the pleasure, knowing that he was close and that nothing he could do would stop it.

  Teetering on the edge, I reached down, beneath my ass cheeks and let my fingers tease his balls as they tightened from the tickle. One long growl, a quick, forceful thrust, and then he tensed, filling me with the warmth of his cum as he nibbled lightly on my earlobe. “I love you,” he whispered.

  My heart stopped for a second, quieting the room so I could decipher what I’d just heard. Elijah lifted up, his eyes stared into mine, and he repeated what I hoped he’d said once again, this time clearer, louder, and with no way of denying what it was.

  “I love you, too,” I gasped, almost unable to catch my breath. I knew he did, at least I expected, but he’d never uttered the words until now. They were sweet, delicious, and I wanted to taste them from his lips. I rose up, covered his mouth with mine, and let my heart beat wildly against his chest.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Elijah

  Bailey was still bouncing around the house, singing the song from Cinderella, her favorite princess. Besides an overrated aquarium, the beach which couldn’t compare to Molokai’s, a few old car shows, and plenty of golf, there wasn’t much to do in Miami to entertain a three-year-old little girl and a twenty-eight-year-old woman. Taylor was right, Miami was everything she’d said: old men in golf pants, and it was funny to me I hadn’t noticed it before then. So, we made the three-hour drive to Orlando and spent our three days at Disney World, a place that Bailey said she wanted to go to every year for her birthday, and two more times just because. It was crowded, over-priced, and so many people in one place just made for too many options for rudeness, but it made her happy, so it made me happy too. We’d make the trip any time she wanted to go; I was certain of that. I’d find a way to travel to the moon if she told me she wanted to visit.

  “I’ll get it,” Bailey screeched, her song interrupted by a knock at the door.

  I followed behind her, helping her to open the heavy wooden door to find Xander on the other side. “Holy,” I exclaimed, stopping myself from finishing my surprised greeting due to small ears listening.

  “I wasn’t sure if I had the right place,” he smirked, looking down at Bailey. “Who’s this pretty lady?”

  “I’m Bailey, the princess,” she announced, bouncing away from the door and down the hall as her song continued.

  I pushed open the screen door, letting Xander inside. “I thought it was time I visited you,” he said, looking past me with a wild smile on his face. “What a sight for sore eyes,” he gasped. I turned to see Taylor standing behind me, the same wild smile smeared on her face as Xander’s.

  “What are you doing here, in town?” she asked playfully.

  His cheeks burnt red and he shook his head. “I just wanted to see you guys, check on things,” he explained, stretching his neck to look down the empty hall. “So, that’s the little girl?” he questioned.

  “Yup,” I said proudly.

  “You guys look like a regular little family,” he chuckled. “I’m happy for you, all of ya,” he added.

  “I was just finishing up breakfast. You hungry?” I asked Xander, who still had a smile smeared across his face.

  “I’m always hungry,” he joked, following me into the kitchen. He paused to h
ug Taylor, squeezing her tight and whispering something in her ear I couldn’t hear.

  “What are ya makin?” he asked, taking an empty seat at the table.

  “A mess,” Taylor teased, slipping into the seat beside him.

  I rolled my eyes at them as they laughed. “Bailey, breakfast is ready!” I called into the other room.

  Bailey bounced into the kitchen wearing her pink princess gown, glass slippers, and tiara. “You really dressed for breakfast, huh?” I chuckled, amused by her fun spirt. Having her in the house really brightened up the place, and my life. Xander smiled, scooting the seat out for Bailey to sit as he stood, and bowed in front of her. She seemed pleased, as if that was what she expected of him, to treat her as if she were royalty. He did, after all, call her a pretty princess. He had no idea what doors he unlocked with that simple statement.

  I put a platter in the center of the table filled with two large stacks of pancakes, one stack with chocolate chips and one without. The pancakes were surrounded by a pound of crispy bacon, just like Taylor liked, so crispy it would burn if it stayed on the griddle for another five seconds. Bailey didn’t mind it, although she did giggle when it crunched between her teeth. “Bacon isn’t supposed to crumble,” she told me one morning, causing Taylor to break out into laughter.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude,” Xander said, sliding back into his seat between the girls.

  “No way, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been thinking about you, but just couldn’t find the time to make it back up that mountain,” I excused.