by Fox, Ella
He moaned when I ran my right thumb beneath the waistband of his jeans, just enough for him to know where I was headed. The harsh sounds coming from him were all the encouragement I needed. Gripping both sides of the hem to his tee, I started working it upward. “Put your hands up,” I ordered huskily.
His eyes flashed fire as he nodded and then complied. When his shirt was off and I saw his naked chest for the first time in what felt like a million years, I blanked out for a second, like my brain short-circuited from the ridiculous amount of hot I was seeing.
“If you keep looking at me like that, foreplay is going to be over,” he rasped.
For half a second I considered taking that option, but once again the need to show him how much I cared by making him feel good outweighed the desire to go fast. I shook my head as I scooted back off his lap and stood up. I tapped his knees with my right index finger and gestured for him to open his legs. His groan was music to my ears. With his legs open enough for me to fit between them, I stepped forward and then dropped to my knees. When I looked up at him, his pupils were so blown that his eyes appeared almost black. I held his gaze and licked my lips for effect and then traced his belt buckle with my finger before I looked down to see what I was doing. The metal clinked as I undid the buckle. Next I popped the button of his jeans before I looked back up at him to watch his expression as I began slowly pulling his zipper down. He bit out a harsh curse when I got the jeans open and was able to cup his thick, hard cock through the fabric of his boxers.
“Goddamn,” he whimpered.
His breath caught as I reached in and took his cock out. I traced my fingers around every throbbing inch of him before I fisted his length and kissed the head. Opening my mouth, I brought my tongue out and flicked the tip before moving on to the vein near the top that made him lose his mind. When I touched that with my tongue, his fingers slid into my hair and held me in place as his hips jerked up.
After repeating the motion a few more times, I opened wider and sucked him in. The velvety heat of his cock inside my mouth was beyond arousing. My clit pulsed as I bobbed up and down on his dick and my desperation for him built inside to a fever pitch. I moaned and forced myself to take him deeper, opening my mouth wide so that he could control the depth and speed of the blowjob.
“Fuck, baby, I love your hot little mouth,” he praised. “You always look so fucking beautiful when you suck my cock.”
His filthy words made me so wet that I clenched my inner muscles to get some relief. Instead of being relieved, my clit throbbed harder. Needing contact, I slid my hand between my legs and rubbed myself over my underwear.
“Jesus fuck,” he snarled. “You’re playing with your pussy aren’t you?”
“Mm hm,” I answered, humming around his cock.
“Dammit baby, I’m losing it. Do you want me to come down your throat or do you want me to fuck you?”
I popped off his cock and looked him right in the eye so he’d know I had not even an ounce of doubt. “I want you to fuck me,” I whispered.
I set my hands on his knees for leverage and pushed myself up and off the floor. I climbed back onto his lap, fisting his cock in my hand as I posted up over him on my knees. Pushing my panties to the side, I used the tip of his cock to tickle my clit. I was incredibly wet and his cock was soaked from the messy blowjob I’d given him, and the slick heat made the sensation of him sliding against my clit that much more pleasurable.
Anxious for more, I positioned him at my opening, adjusted myself a little, and then started taking him in. We both let out gasps of pleasure as I sank down onto his cock, my pussy clenching as I tried to adjust to his size. It’d been so long that the stretch was borderline painful, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Setting my hands on his shoulders, I used them for leverage as I rocked up and down on his dick in order to get all of him in. When I finally took him to the root, I stilled. He was shirtless, I was still dressed in a top and a skirt, and my legs were open around his thighs. The whole thing was so sexy I could barely stand it. Leaning forward, I kissed him as I sat still, opening and closing my legs and clenching my sex around his cock. He growled, that low tortured sound I knew so well. He’d always loved being buried deep and letting me set the pace. The friction wasn’t enough to come, but it was absolutely enough to feel damn good.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled. “Ride my fucking cock and come all over it.”
His words made me clench tighter around him, causing both of us to whimper. I held onto his shoulders as I went up on my knees before I dropped back down, taking him all the way in. Up I’d go, until just the tip was in, and then I’d go back down, fast, taking everything he had.
“You’re slick, hot, and so fucking wet I can feel it dripping onto my balls,” he rasped. “Be a good girl and keep fuckin’ me just… like… this.”
My fingernails dug into his shoulders as I went faster, causing the slap, slap, slap of skin against skin to fill the room. “Touch my clit,” I whispered. “Make me come.”
He gave me a cocky grin as he reached between us and started fingering my clit in that perfect way he always did. I grew even wetter as I fucked myself on his cock, my words a litany of his name.
“Garrett,” I whimpered, knowing I was close.
He rubbed faster, his thumb going right to the hood. Arching my back, I tilted my head back and bounced on him faster.
“Come, baby. Give me everything.”
I fell apart with a choked scream, my body shaking as I came, and came, and came. Beneath me, Garrett was chanting my name. With one hand still playing with my clit he used the other to hold onto my waist as he moved me up and down on his cock like a doll.
“Fuck… fuuuucccck, Shaelyn, God, baby” he yelled as I squeezed around him. He stilled for a second until the first burst of come came. Once that happened he fucked up into me with no finesse. I loved the way he lost control.
When it was over, I pushed him back so that he was lying down and then I settled on top of him, my head on his chest. Still connected, I knew we were making a mess—I didn’t care because the idea of separating held no appeal. We stayed that way for several minutes before I climbed off his lap to go clean up.
He followed me into the bathroom a few minutes later and turned on the shower. While we waited for the water to warm, he stripped me of my clothes, kissing his way down my body as he did.
On his knees, he placed feather light kisses across my abdomen. I sucked in a breath when he kissed the few silvery stretch marks on my stomach, but I didn’t stop him. I hadn’t been able to be touched there since Melody’s passing, but things were different because I was ready to reclaim my life and my body. I knew there would be moments of discomfort, but I would fight my way through them because life was a gift, not a curse. It wasn’t something to be endured—it was to be celebrated. The rough estimate of the lives lost earlier in the week was in the thousands. Although to the best of my knowledge I had no connection to anyone who passed, I felt like avoiding life was a slap in the face to every one of them.
I planned to make the most of every single day that I was lucky enough to be alive.
* * *
I woke up to the sound of Garrett’s stomach grumbling. After our shower, we’d gotten into bed for a nap, so I was curled up at his side with my right cheek rested over his heart, which had long been my preferred sleeping spot. Yawning, I laughed when his stomach growled again.
“Never been hungrier in my life,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep.
“Your choices are pizza, sandwiches, or Chinese food. Pick one, and I’ll call in an order.”
He yawned as he thought it over. “Chinese food. How about General Tso’s, a bunch of egg rolls, crab Rangoon, Chinese pizza, beef broccoli, and some hot and sour soup, plus all the stuff you normally get. We should get some tea, too.”
I snickered as I disengaged from his arms and sat up. Looking down at him, I raised a brow. “Have you not eaten in the last
few days?”
He grinned as he shifted position and tucked his hands behind his head. “I ate McDonald’s like eight times in the last two days, but I need better fuel for all the plans I have for you.” His eyes raked my body as he spoke.
After our shower we hadn’t gotten dressed, which meant I was naked. I sat still and let him look his fill. My nipples puckered and my core clenched at the fiery expression in his eyes, and I couldn’t contain a soft sigh when he groaned.
“Order the food and make sure you get them to give you a delivery estimate,” he growled. “When you hang up, climb on. You’re going to sit on my face while you suck my cock. I bet I can make you come at least twice before they get here.”
He easily won that bet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Shaelyn— September 2001
After dinner, we sat on the bed together to talk. To that moment, things were amazing, but I could tell that Garrett had something on his mind and I was nervous about what it could be.
We were face to face, his back against the headboard while I sat in the middle of the bed. I’d thought it was a good place to sit, but something in his eyes was making me nervous. I twisted my fingers together in my lap while I looked him over. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“I’ve been keeping something from you and it’s been killing me to wait until we could be face to face for me to confess,” he started.
My stomach dropped like a stone. Oh my god, had he been with another woman while we were apart? On the heels of that thought came a mental slap-in-the-face. I had no one to blame but myself if he had. I was the idiot who left him, who insisted on a divorce, who wouldn’t let him love me. What had I done?
He reached out and took my hand in his. “Shae, stop. Whatever you’re thinking, I promise you’re wrong,” he said firmly. “And really, if you’re sitting there imagining I’m going to tell you I had sex with someone else, I’m damn disappointed. How many times have I told you I took our wedding vows seriously?”
A rush of emotion hit me like a ten-ton truck, and I had to hold back tears to speak. “I know, but… I divorced you. I wouldn’t have any business complaining even if you’d gone out and had sex with every woman under forty in Hollywood. I’ve been so stupid.”
“If you could wave a magic wand and make it so the divorce never happened, would you?” he asked.
I nodded emphatically. “In a heartbeat,” I sniffled as I swiped at the tears under my eyes with my fingers.
“Then your wish has been granted,” he said.
I shook my head. “Don’t give me a pass. I know we’ll get married again, but nothing can erase what I did. Because of me, we’ll be that weird couple that got divorced and then got back together.”
He made a tsk sound as he reached out and cupped my chin. “Baby, when I said wish granted, I meant it literally. We aren’t divorced.”
My eyes went wide as I blinked at him in shock. “Wait; what?”
“We’re still married.”
I pinched my arm to determine if I was dreaming. It hurt enough to tell me that I was awake.
“But we signed the papers,” I reminded him.
“And I saw to it that they were misplaced,” he said. “They’ve not been signed off on by a judge, Shae. We’re still married.”
I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t speak. What I knew for sure was that Garrett Riordan was the best thing that had ever happened to me. When I’d spiraled out of control, he’d been there to save me from myself.
Sitting up on my knees I threw myself at him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too,” he answered gruffly.
“Thank you for never losing faith.”
“Not even for a second,” he vowed. “This marriage is forever.”
“And always,” I answered.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Shaelyn— September 2001
We got up early the following morning and went to rent a car so that we could get on the road. We’d done a lot of traveling because of his work but we’d never taken a road trip before, and I was very excited.
There were about two thousand seven hundred miles ahead of us, but we decided to take our time and enjoy the ride. Partially this was because driving across the country wasn’t an everyday event and we said we wanted to explore, but truthfully, the more significant reason was that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other long enough to make good time.
The first day we went a whopping one hundred and two miles before we decided to stop for the day. By that I mean we knew getting pulled over while I was giving him road head wasn’t something either of us would want to happen, so we found the closest motel, checked in, and spent the rest of the day in bed. We were equal parts trying to make up for lost time and flat out insatiable for one another, and we were going with it.
I was sore in places that I hadn’t been in for what felt like forever, and I was enjoying it. My body was decorated with love bites and little bruises where his fingers dug into my skin when things got wild.
My engagement ring was back on my finger and I felt like the weight of the world was lifted the first time I realized I was able to refer to Garrett as being my husband again. I removed the word divorce from my repertoire, because it didn’t apply. We were married and would remain so forever.
* * *
On the second day of our road trip, we decided not to drive at all. This was because the night before I’d read a pamphlet on the desk about a local attraction that interested me and Garrett declared that it would be fun if we looked at the trip as a vacation instead of a means to an end to get between point a and point b.
With that decision made, we threw ourselves into exploring America. The timing couldn’t have been more profound, either. Everywhere we went was decorated with American flags. From the small towns we drove through, to the motels, to the cars that drove past us on the highway, flags were everywhere. We’d decorated our rental with a window flag and two magnetized bumper stickers along the way, and each night we sat and watched the news for updates.
The aftermath of 9/11 was powerful. Most nights I cried during the news. There was a lot of focus on the sheer volume of flyers and photos posted around the city by people trying to find lost loved ones, hoping against hope that a miracle would happen. The last living person pulled from the rubble had happened twenty-seven hours after the incident, so the focus had turned to recovery. Firefighters from all around the country were showing up to help, and the footage of them walking in and out of what was being called Ground Zero broke my heart.
We’d seen a piece on the CBS news that showed the hotel I’d been staying in. It was a mess, and the reporter referred to it as being unstable. Garrett had a hard time with that, and he held me a little tighter after we watched it.
Each day I called Tia to check in. We’d been through it that Tuesday in New York, and I knew it would be a long, long time before either of us had a day where we didn’t think about what we’d seen.
* * *
Six days into the trip, we’d only made it as far as Missouri. Most of our travel was cheap and cheerful, which we both enjoyed immensely. Generally, I checked into the rooms so that Garrett went unnoticed, which worked like a charm. When we got to St. Louis, he’d declared that it was time for a little pampering and some room service. He was noticed for the very first time when we’d checked into the Ritz-Carlton, but it wasn’t crazy. The front desk staff who realized who he was asked for autographs, which he obliged, but they didn’t make a big thing about it so that he was noticed. It was nice, traveling with him in a sort of anonymity, without the paparazzi popping up to take photos.
* * *
I was pretty blissed out after the manicure, pedicure, and massage I’d gotten in the spa. Garrett had opted for a facial and a massage, so he was feeling the nirvana, too. Back in the suite, we’d napped, made love, and then showered. After Garrett finished drying my hair,
I’d gone into the bedroom while he dried his.
Noticing that my phone was blinking, I saw I’d missed several calls from Goldie. She and Alan had been busy looking at houses since he’d declared his condo uninhabitable. My grandmother and I laughed for a long time over that one. His million-dollar luxury condo was hardly a dump—but Alan was a lot like his brother and his nephew when it came to taking care of his woman. Only the best for Goldie—and apparently, the best wasn’t the condo.
Certain she was calling to tell me they’d found a house, I picked up the hotel phone and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Peanut Breath,” she sighed.
If a sigh held weight, hers would’ve been about a thousand pounds. My stomach dropped like a stone as fear raced through my veins. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yes—”
“Is Alan okay?
“Yes, it’s not—”
“Are Garrett’s parents okay?”
“Shaelyn,” she said, her voice firm. “You need to let me talk.”
Taking a breath, I dropped down onto the bed. “Okay.”
My heart slammed against my chest as I waited for her to tell me what was going on.
“Honey, Jewel is dead.”
I blinked stupidly as I tried to process what she’d said. For some reason I focused on the sound of the hairdryer in the bathroom and for several seconds I got lost in the buzz of the motor. Only when Goldie cleared her throat did I realize that I needed to respond.
“How did she… um, how… did she die?”
“It was a murder-suicide,” Goldie said softly. “Jewel and her boyfriend got into a physical altercation at a restaurant in North Hollywood. He pulled out a gun, killed her and then he turned the weapon on himself. I saw the story on the news, but I had no idea she was one of the victims.”