“Where’s your ring?”
She touched the hollow between her breasts with her fingers. Beneath the material of her T-shirt, he noticed a bump. “That is not where it belongs.”
Her eyes darkened with that uncertainty he wasn’t used to seeing, and did not want to see.
“I wanted to wear it, but when I went to switch it over to my left hand after the cast came off, it just didn’t seem right.” She shrugged, her teeth going to work on her lip, a sure sign she wasn’t comfortable. “Not with things still up in the air between us.”
Hell.He touched her cheek, the faint shadows under her eyes. “I told you I was keeping you, honey girl. Nothing was ever up in the air between us after that.” Her teeth were at her lip again. He couldn’t ignore her question anymore. He’d go through any level of embarrassment to put the confidence back into her gaze.
“I’m sorry you thought differently.” He pulled her lip from between her teeth. “After you left, it took me a while to figure out where I should start.”
“Where did you start?”
He grinned ruefully. “At the bottom of a whiskey bottle.”
“Oh, Mac.”
“Don’t go looking at me like that.” He kissed the disappointment from her lips, lingering to tease himself with her response. Only after her mouth opened beneath his, her breath mingled with his, her tongue yielded to his, did he pull back. “It wasn’t as if I went on a bender. I can’t stand the stuff.”
“Then why did you drink it?”
“Because I didn’t want to go on a bender.”
“Oh.”
“It was rough, Jessie. Real rough.”
She propped herself on his chest. He knew the memories were in his eyes, the remembered helplessness. It was all he could do not to look away. “I got halfway through the bottle before I could bring myself to remember that day.”
“The day you…found your mother?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d you do then?”
He laughed, a short, bitter sound that had little to do with humor and everything to do with pain. “I chugged the rest of the bottle so I could forget the little bit I’d brought forth.”
The expression on Jessie’s face said more than words. “I know, not exactly productive. It took me another week to work up my courage to call a doctor in Dallas. They were willing to meet with me, but I had to wait six days for an appointment, and I only got that because someone cancelled.”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about a psychologist?”
“Yup. The first appointment was a breeze. All he had me do was outline the situation. He didn’t ask me how I felt or anything.”
“I’m assuming they all didn’t go that way?”
“Heck, no. At the end of the first appointment, he gave me a list of books to buy, all dealing with depression. There was even one that talked about the history of treatment.”
She held her breath as she asked the next question. “How did your second appointment go?”
“Like I got my foot caught in the stirrup and got dragged a good mile.”
“That sounds pretty nasty.”
He opened his eyes. “I never knew I could feel such rage, Jessie. It was like a stranger leapt into me and started using my mouth to make conversation.” He grimaced. “And it wasn’t exactly polite.”
“But it helped?”
“Not at first. At first, I was too shocked by the things I said to really understand. I could understand being mad at that doctor who gave her the Valium even though it was common practice in his day. I could understand being mad at my dad for always working, but how could I be mad at my mother? She was sick, scared, and eventually, dead.”
He could tell she didn’t know what to say, but the kiss she pressed against his chest said all she really needed.
He curved his hand over her skull, weaving his fingers into her hair, holding her mouth against him, the heat teasing him through his shirt. They had way too many clothes on. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve been meeting with that psychologist twice a week for the last month. I’ve talked and read until I’m blue in the face and blind in both eyes.”
He lowered his head until he could feel her breath on his lips, soft and hesitant.
“I wish I could have been there for you,” she whispered.
“This is better. Me with you. Whole.” He brushed her lips with his. She smelled of burgers, pickles, and dearly beloved woman. His woman, and he was never going to let her go again. Because it felt so good, he rubbed his lips over hers again. When the tip of her tongue snuck out to moisten the flesh he was playing with, his good intentions went straight down the tube. “Ah woman, I’ve missed you.”
In answer, her arms came around his neck, and her lips parted under his. She tasted like heaven. Like the other half of his soul. He kissed her hard and deep, trying to express how much she meant to him with every brush of his tongue, every nibble of his lips. She leaned into him as if she too needed to imprint him into her being with the same intensity. When they drew apart for air, he asked hoarsely, “Want to know where I’ve been this weekend?”
“Not at this particular moment,” she announced, her eyes on his lips.
He laughed, bouncing her around on his chest as he did so. He curved his fingers through the hair at the base of her neck to stabilize her. “We’ll get to what you’re thinking in just a minute, but first I want to say this.”
“And then you’ll kiss the socks off me?”
He rubbed his bare feet over her equally bare ones. “Since I’ve already done that, why don’t I make a more interesting promise?”
She arched her hips against his and chuckled, and then chuckled some more when her laughter produced the inevitable surge of his cock.
“How about I promise to spank that sweet ass of yours?”
“For what?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Does it matter?”
The blush crept out of the open neck of her shirt to spread over her cheeks. Against his chest, her nipples hardened. He caught one between his fingers, squeezing it until she moaned and arched into his hand, keeping the pressure there as she sighed a “Yes.”
“How about for doubting I was coming back?” He twisted the plump nipple slightly, watching her face. Her breath came in little hitches and her thighs shifted on his. “You’re going to come like a firecracker when we get serious, aren’t you, honey girl?”
She bit her lip, but didn’t avoid his gaze as she nodded. “It’s been so long.”
The way she said it—her body tight with anticipation, her muscles quivering, almost desperate—made him pause. “You didn’t get yourself off while we were apart?”
She shook her head. “It didn’t seem right.”
He sensed the “Without you” that she left unsaid, but he wanted to hear it aloud. Needed to hear it. Releasing her nipple, he slid his hand down her belly, smiling when she stopped breathing altogether as he reached the snap of her jeans.
“Why?”
Her expression turned mutinous as the zipper on her jeans slid down, and he slipped his fingers just under the flap. “Tell me, Jessie.” He tugged the curls at the top of her pubic bone while nibbling at her neck. “Why didn’t it seem right?”
His finger slipped into the crease of her labia. The hard nub of her engorged clit bumped his finger.
“Because you weren’t there,” she gasped, arching her hips up to increase the contact. The tightness of her jeans frustrated her efforts.
“Good. I don’t want you ever coming without me.”
“Did you come without me?”
“Only when I was so lonely for you I couldn’t bear it.”
She frowned at him. “How often was that?”
He kissed the belligerence from her lips. “At least three or four times a day I’d picture you in my mind, and remember how it was between us. How you make that sexy little whimper when I please you just right…”
“And you came for me?
”
“Oh yeah.”
“And it was enough?”
He rested his forehead against hers and rocked his head in a small negative movement. Words would never be able to convey how empty he had felt without her. “Not nearly enough.”
“Good.”
He smiled at the satisfaction in her tone. He acceded to her body’s demands and stretched his finger to touch her clit again. This time he didn’t pull back, just let it rest against the swollen, slick nub, noting the acceleration of her breathing, the narrowing of her gaze, and the rising of her desire. Oh yeah, she liked that.
“Can I finish my explanation now?” he asked.
“Are you insisting on it?” she countered distractedly, her focus clearly lower.
“Yes.” He made the tiniest of circles with his finger. She whimpered the way he liked, the way that made his cock throb and his balls threaten to burst. “But first let me hear that sweet little whimper again.”
He pressed a little harder, a little longer. Her nails sank into his shoulders as she tried to tug him closer. Jessie cried out, her body jerking against him.
Maybe further explanations could wait. “Are you going to come for me, Jessie?”
Her eyes slightly desperate, she shook her head, her gaze flying to his groin, her expression hungry. “I can’t.”
He really was going to have to do something about that hang-up.
He stilled his touch and very tenderly kissed her mouth. “Yes, you can, honey girl. Just let go. You don’t have to worry about me; I’ll come for you whenever you want.”
“Now,” she panted rocking on his finger, her lips nipping at his. “I want you to come now.” He stroked her firmly and she screamed, “Oh God! I need you to come now.”
He shook his head, pulling back. “No, you don’t.”
She arched her back off the bed, her face a mask of frustration. He withdrew his hand.
“Damn you!” she cursed, swinging at him. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss into the palm.
“Shh, Jessie. We’ll get there but right now I need you to undress for me.”
Her fingers curled until her nails pressed into his cheek. He met her gaze steadily. She groaned again and pushed off to stand by the bed, shoving her jeans down. Her thong caught on her thighs. He smiled as she kicked off her jeans and tore off the thong. She reached for her shirt and he stopped her. “Just the bra.”
She frowned at him. “You want me to leave the shirt on?”
The white knit top skimmed the juncture of her thighs, teasing him with a glimpse of her swollen eager pussy, and the long, endless expanse of her legs. “Definitely.”
Her gaze followed his. Her lips quirked and she flicked the hem, giving him full view of her delectable pussy. Then she turned, looking over her shoulder at him, flashing her ass, as she reached up under her shirt to unclasp her bra. He smiled at her antics, letting her play for the moment. She wiggled out of the bra, held it out to the side, tossed him a grin and let it drop to the floor. His smile broadened as he twirled his finger. She turned. The cotton lovingly hugged her curves, making them seem fuller, softer, more lush. He sat up on the bed and crooked his finger. She came, hips swishing, breasts bouncing, nipples perking. One step, two steps until those incredible breasts bobbed in front of his face. While he watched, she cupped them through the T-shirt, squeezing at the base, dragging her hands forward until it was the nipples she was squeezing and drawing out, holding for his pleasure. And hers.
He leaned forward, taking the right one in his mouth, sucking it through the shirt as she held it and gasped, the scent of her arousal softly wafting up to surround him. His cock throbbed and ached. He fought back his impatience and lightly scraped the engorged nubbin with his teeth, catching her hips in his hands as she whimpered and stumbled. Then he moved to the left one and treated it to the same pleasure. When he nibbled it, she fell into his grip, needing him to support her. He took her weight easily, pulling her into the cradle of his thighs. He put a couple of inches between them. Just enough that he could enjoy the sight of the wet cotton clinging to her breasts, delineating their proud thrust.
He touched her nipples. “These are definitely worthy of ornamentation.”
She sucked in a breath. “If you think I’m getting pierced…”
He covered the tips with his fingers. “Hell no.” He stroked them softly, protectively. “I was thinking some danglers might be nice, though. Maybe something with stones to match your eyes.”
She relaxed into his hands, her back arching slightly as she reached and brought her braid around. “How do they stay on?”
“A little noose.”
She looked down as she undid the braid. “A noose?”
He smiled at the skepticism in her tone. “First I get your nipples all hard.”
She smiled. “That sounds fun.”
“Oh, it is.” He tugged her nipples out, twisting them delicately, tempting them to reach for him, for more, and then harder as she stirred against him. “Yeah. Just like that.”
Both peaks thrust out from dark centers under the wet cotton. “Then I slip the noose on and tighten it up.”
She fluffed her long, honey-blonde hair around her shoulders. Tossing the band onto the nightstand, she asked, “Will it hurt?”
Bracketing her rib cage between his hands, he fanned his fingers over the surprisingly narrow expanse. Sometimes he forgot how much smaller than him she was.
“Does this?” He cushioned his teeth behind his lips, caught the base of her engorged nipple in his teeth, and bit down—gradually, deliberately—feeling the resilient flesh compress.
“No.”
He bit harder. Under his hands, her ribs expanded on her harshly indrawn breath. He paused. Her fingers sank into his hair. More of her weight fell against him.
“Don’t stop!” she moaned.
He added a little more pressure. She ground her pussy against his stomach, her movements short and awkward at first, becoming smooth and flowing as her juices slicked his skin. Damn, she was hot. He held her there on that edge, not giving her more, not letting her take less. She stroked against him, frustration making her whimper as she struggled for the relief she needed.
He released her nipple. “It’ll feel just like that.”
She yanked on his hair, her head falling back when she realized the demo was over. “Oh no…”
“Easy, honey girl.”
She bucked against him as he stretched his thumbs in and down until he reached the top of her wet slit. He pressed. She jerked. Her head fell forward to rest on his shoulder. A quick check revealed she was watching his hands on her, her lower lip locked in her teeth. Hoping. Anticipating. He turned his head and kissed the corner of her mouth.
“I’m going to touch your clit now,” he whispered against her cheek, his voice hoarse with need. “I’m going to stroke it and rub it, and you are going to come for me.”
She cut him a panicked glance, her lip sliding free as she gasped, “But I can’t. I need—”
He held her gaze, and slid his thumbs down. His “All you need is me” coincided with his callused fingertip tenderly scraping her aching bud. She blinked, bit her lip, and groaned.
“Doesn’t that feel good?” he asked as he circled the nub, his fingers moving smoothly with the aid of her juices.
She nodded. He stopped. “I want the words. No holding back.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes. It feels good.”
“Then let’s do it some more.” He did, over and over, widening the circles, deepening the pressure, tipping her hips forward, forcing her to rely on him more and more for her balance. Her pleasure.
Her body was taut, quivering with tension. He could feel the fine tremors racing under her skin as her breathing became more and more labored.
“Come for me, honey girl.”
She shook her head, her long hair swishing across his skin like silken fire. “I
can’t.”
“Yes. You can.” He caught her clit between his thumb and forefinger. She was very hard, very swollen. Very sensitive. “Just let it happen, Jessie.”
He tugged gently. She screamed, her fingers locked on his shoulders. He did it again. Her knees buckled. He stroked back to her vagina, keeping his touch featherlight. Circling the small opening, he teased the ring of muscle with the threat of penetration, smiling in satisfaction when it spasmed and clutched at him. He caught the sweet spill of juices as they flooded his hand, carrying them back to the tight rosette just behind, spreading them over that tempting opening as he whispered in her ear, “If you come for me, Jessie, I’ll fuck your ass.” He probed the dark channel, giving her just the tip of his finger. “Don’t you want that? My cock in this tight butt? Parting you? Taking you? Making you mine in every way?”
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