by S. Layne
“Drive safe,” Donovan says, and reaches out to shake Ben’s hand.
“I will.” Ben returns the handshake without hesitating.
And I stand back, tears in my eyes, and wonder how in the hell my life has changed so quickly…so easily…and hope like hell the other shoe doesn’t drop anytime soon.
“Yes,” Donovan groans, and his hands grip my hips tighter. “Fuck, Talia. Ride me.”
I’m breathless above him, straddling his waist, his cock deep inside of me.
One of my hands is on his chest, and I rock against him, up…down…rolling my hips.
“You feel so good.” I’m trying to stay quiet. It’s virtually impossible as my body heats.
When I woke up this morning, Donovan sleeping peacefully behind me, his erection against my backside, I couldn’t help but roll him over and taste him.
His hand had fallen to my hair, holding me, and I looked up to see his sleepy eyes barely open but his jaw was clenched tight as if he were restraining himself.
I wasted no time pulling him into my mouth, sliding my tongue along his shaft. When I sucked one of his balls into my mouth, his hands reached to underneath my arms and he pulled me up until I straddled him, squealing in surprise.
Then he slid his cock inside of me and told me to take my pleasure.
I love having this control.
My blond hair falls like a curtain to my sides and I can only see his chest and his eyes.
They’re intensely focused, his teeth gritted together.
I lift off his shaft, my eyes teasing him as I move slowly.
“Fuck me,” he growls, and slams me back down on him. “Do it, Talia, or I’m taking over.”
The thought of giving him control sends a spasm to my sex and I groan. “Donovan.”
The thought of sending him over the edge is more enticing.
“Yes,” I whisper, rocking against him. I speed up, until my thighs are shaking and my arm is trembling. Donovan meets me thrust for thrust, rocking into me and pulling me against him.
“Get there, Talia. I’m coming.”
“Ahh,” I cry, his admission sending me over the edge. With a final thrust he rocks into me, pulls me down against his chest, and everything inside me tightens and convulses around his cock as he spends himself inside of me.
“Holy shit,” I gasp, my breath wild, our skin hot and sweaty. “You’re amazing.”
His hand slides up and down my back and I feel his heartbeat racing against my chest. “I think that honor goes to you this morning.”
I chuckle softly, turn my head into the crook of his shoulder, and bathe him with gentle kisses.
“Need a shower,” Donovan says, his hand in my hair now, running through it. “And we’ve got a busy day.”
I sigh, relaxing into him. We do. I have appointments with a contractor, I need to see my dad, and mostly I need to fill Marisa in on everything so she can get the ball rolling on hiring new therapists.
Everything’s changing so quickly.
“I don’t wanna move,” I whisper against his skin. “Can we stay like this all day?”
We can’t. But I love seeing Donovan’s pulse speed a bit at the idea. His cock pulses inside me and I know he’s getting hard again.
I smile and press my lips to his pulse.
“I wish.” Then he jackknifes up, sliding out of me, but he doesn’t let me go. He wraps my legs around his back, and then swings his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up. “Let’s think about that idea in the shower.”
I tighten my hold around his neck. “I don’t really like to think in the shower.”
“I do…I’m already thinking about sliding my fingers into your pussy. Fucking you from behind, your skin wet from the water, and how good you’ll feel when you’re milking my cock.”
“Oh.” I smile again, press my lips to his cheek. “If that’s what we’re talking about..show me what you have in mind.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” We reach the bathroom and he doesn’t set me down as he slides open the door to his shower and turns the water on.
Then he sets me on my feet, giving me space to brush my teeth and get ready for the shower.
When the room is beginning to steam from the hot water, he takes my hand and pulls me inside the stall.
Shivers slide down my skin, from the warm water and from his hands that slide slowly down my arms. Grabbing a loofah, he fills it with soap and begins washing my body. “You’re beautiful. Every single inch of you.”
My knees tremble slightly and I slide my fingers through his hair. “I think you’re pretty perfect too.”
He slides the loofah against my stomach, looking at my skin as goose bumps trail in his wake, and then he drops the soapy sponge and falls to his knees. His fingers go to my slit, and already I feel primed, ready for him.
My head falls back out of the water. The combination of the spray hitting my breasts, his fingers sliding through my sex, and the sight of Donovan on his knees in front of me is overwhelming.
“I love your pussy,” he says, and leans forward to lick my clit. “Back up against the wall.”
I move carefully so I don’t fall. Donovan follows, his hands on my backside until I’m against the cool, wet tiles. His hand slides down my thigh and his lips move, bathing my skin with his kisses as he lifts one leg over his shoulder. I grip onto him to keep my balance. He looks up at me and smiles a smile that would make me want to drop my panties if I wasn’t already naked.
God, he’s beautiful. And all mine.
“I want to see you come, feel you pulse all over my tongue.”
Yes.
He leans forward, licking my slit from back to front before his tongue drives me crazy, making slow circles around my clit.
“Donovan.” My head falls back against the shower wall and I’m already shaking. He turns me on in seconds, and when he slides his fingers inside of me, hooking them to rub against that sweet spot inside, I come around him, just like he wanted.
He laps me up like I’m his favorite dessert as my hips rock against him, and I take every ounce of the pleasure he gives me when he stands up, turns me around, and slides his shaft inside of me with one thrust.
“Yes,” he hisses. “Damn it. You always feel so fucking good. So tight around me.”
I arch back, making it easier for him to move, and as he begins rocking into me, quickly, hard and fast, my entire body quakes with pleasure.
Our moans mix together as he thrusts, filling me completely, and it’s only minutes before one of his hands grips my shoulder, his other on my hip, and he’s pushing inside of me…powerfully…perfectly…
“Talia,” he groans as I begin to clamp around him. “Hurry.”
“I’m there,” I whimper. I am. He can wring an orgasm out of me in minutes, and I already feel my peak climbing as he slides his fingers to my front, pinches my clit, and then I shatter.
My screams are muffled by the shower and I press my forehead against the wall as he thrusts into me one final time, shouting my name against my shoulder and chasing his own climax.
“How is he today?” I ask Dr. McGarry when I enter my father’s room.
His eyes are open but hazy, yet as soon as I speak, his head turns in my direction.
One side of his lips lifts slightly while the other side droops low. But it’s progress, because at least he recognizes my voice.
“He’s doing great.” She smiles kindly and slides a clipboard to the end of his bed. “His therapy is going really well—although he’s probably tired because we just got done with the physical therapist.”
“Wonderful.”
She leaves the room and I walk to the side of my father’s bed, taking his hand in mine.
He squeezes it. “Baby girl.”
My chin trembles and I fight back tears. “You’re getting better.”
His head nods and I can’t believe how much he really is improving in just a week. I have so much to be thankful for, even w
ith all the unknowns.
“Tired,” he says, and I see him fight to keep his eyes open.
I lean over and brush my lips against his cheek. They’re pinker than they were just weeks ago. More alive.
Tears burn my eyes as he turns his head so my lips brush against his. “Love you.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
He nods once before his eyes close, and it’s only minutes before he’s asleep, but I stay next to him for another hour, waiting for him to wake up.
It’s quiet and peaceful in his room, and feels warm and cozy. Outside, the leaves have changed colors—a sure sign they’ll be falling soon and winter is coming.
And while it’s generally my least favorite time of year, this winter will bring a lot of excitement.
Earlier today, after a quick stop at the office—where Marisa and I had spent an hour going over requirements for new therapists and created an employment ad—I had then met with the contractor in our new space. He’d assured me that he could remodel the old fitness gym into what we need and have everything open by the end of the year.
Eight weeks.
My dream is occurring before my very eyes, and most importantly…my dad is healing. I had almost given up hope.
When it’s clear he’s going to be sleeping awhile, I brush my lips over his again and tell him I’ll see him soon. Now that he’s awake more often, I want to figure out a way to coordinate my schedule so I can be around during this therapy, learning how to help him get better even quicker.
I’m just reaching my car in the parking lot when my phone rings. I answer it quickly when I see Marisa’s name on the screen.
“What’s up?” I ask. “Need me to bring you back lunch?”
“No. But you need to get here.”
My pulse thumps in my ears and I quickly unlock my door and slide into my seat. “What’s going on?”
“Cops are here. Looking for Ben.”
“Shit.” I shift the car into drive. “What do they want?”
“He wants to search the place. Says they’re looking for him.”
My mind spins. I wish I had the time to call Donovan or even Jensen to see what I should do, but if Ben’s stepdad is there, I don’t have time, and I’m fifteen minutes away.
“Where’s the cop from?” I ask, already knowing the answer but hoping I’m wrong.
“Centerville.”
“Dammit. That’s his stepdad.”
“Sort of what I figured. I excused myself to your office to call you, but he’s steaming mad out front. What should I do?”
“Kids around?”
“Just a few. Spencer and a couple others.”
“Let him search,” I tell her. “I’ll call Jensen, but I know he’s going to say without a warrant we don’t have to let him in. But if you can get him in and out before I get there, that’d probably be best. He knows me from the other night, so I don’t want him to see me. If you cooperate they shouldn’t be there too long.”
“Are you sure?”
No. My hands are shaking and I could be totally messing up. “Just do it. Call me when he leaves.”
I hang up with Marisa and instantly call Donovan. While I’m driving, he assures me he’ll call Jensen. After scolding me that I shouldn’t have let the man inside my business without a warrant, something I already know, he apologizes and says we’ll get it figured out.
I knew it was only a matter of time before a cop came to the center looking for a missing child. When I get to the office and there’s no police cruiser in sight, my nerves begin to settle.
Without knowing who I am, or who Donovan is, there’s no way for Ben’s stepfather to figure out where he is.
I rush inside, finding Marisa at her desk like it’s a normal day. “Is everything okay?”
She nods and smiles easily. “Yeah. I had all the kids come downstairs while he searched, and he was only here for a few minutes. Spencer even spoke up and said that Ben hasn’t been here since last weekend.”
I heave a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful. Remind me to give the kid some extra ice cream later or something.”
She laughs but sobers quickly. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Haven’t the faintest idea,” I tell her honestly. “This could all blow up in our faces any day and I could be in hot shit, but if we can get Dick off our backs that will help.”
Marisa snickers at Ben’s stepdad’s name. It’s fitting, completely, because the guy is a total dickhead.
“Okay,” I say on an exhale. Tension releases from my shoulders. “What else is going on today?”
With one altercation done, we push it from our minds, slide back into work mode, and it’s hours before I think about Dick again. And even then, it’s in passing while I’m sitting at the dinner table with Donovan, Jeremiah, and Ben.
The boys give each other crap about Ben beating Jeremiah at basketball.
Donovan challenges them both to a game after dinner.
And for one of the first times in the last month since Donovan and I reconnected, their dinner table is filled with laughter and easy conversation, despite the heaviness and uncertainty surrounding us.
“So you did have a guest house at some point,” I murmur to Donovan as we walk across the driveway to his mother’s house. His childhood home is definitely more like a castle. Above a four-car detached garage there is clearly another floor that looks like an apartment. I can’t help but think of the first time I saw him and compared my house to his guesthouse.
By my quick calculations, the guesthouse is larger than my home.
Donovan squeezes my hand in comfort. “Did. Not anymore, never again. You doing okay?”
It’s the tenth time he’s asked me. I smile tightly. “Just great.”
“Hey.” He tugs on my hand, pulling me to him until I have to brace myself with my hand against his chest. He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “Don’t let her get to you today, okay?”
“You don’t sound like this will go well.”
“I no longer have any blinders on when it comes to my mother. I’m trusting she has something up her sleeve, but I guarantee I won’t let her hurt you.”
“I know you won’t.” In fact, knowing that is the only thing keeping me calm.
“I love you.”
I grin and step away. “I know you do. I remember you screaming that very thing this morning in the shower.”
Since Ben has been staying with us, the shower has become my new favorite place to have sex. Even though his house is big and the boys’ rooms are separated from ours by a large distance, I can let myself go more easily if our lovemaking is muffled by running water and an extra locked door.
“I didn’t hear you complain,” he reminds me with a wink. He reaches for me and takes my hand in his.
“I never will.” Changing the subject, I ask, “Did you talk to the boys about what we’re doing afterward?”
We reach the door and he knocks, using an elegant, lion-shaped knocker. I frown, thinking we could have just headed in, but I don’t say anything. I’m still stuck on my question about later today. Bentley has rented a moving truck and after brunch, Donovan and I are meeting him at my house to move out everything I want to keep. After talking to him more this week, and with everything going on, we’ve decided to simply sell my house; and while Donovan’s house is fully decorated, I miss my stuff and want to make his house ours by combining our things. There won’t be much, but when I called Mrs. Bartol yesterday, she said she’d spend some time there last night and this morning packing up my clothes and some of my favorite things.
I’m going to miss her tremendously, but thankfully she’s only twenty minutes away. She’s made me promise to continue our Saturday mimosa mornings, which there was no way I could decline.
I will miss the crazy woman.
I’ve had Donovan and the boys in stitches all week telling them stories about her—some of the more teenage-appropriate stories that don’t involve
talk of Viagra and penile implants.
“They grumbled but agreed,” Donovan finally admits right before the door swings open.
Claire stands in the entryway, a plastic smile plastered on her face and her eyes glimmering until she sees me standing next to Donovan, his hand firmly holding onto mine.
“Mother.” Donovan nods.
“So good to see you, thank you for coming.” She brushes an air kiss across his cheek and turns to me, her smile faltering. “Tanya.”
Donovan growls. “Talia. Do we need to leave before we even get inside?”
She steps back, opening the door while looking completely unapologetic. “Of course not. I just forgot. Good to see you, Talia.”
“You too.” I smile, even though she greets me like I would greet a rattlesnake in my living room.
I see Donovan scan his mother’s face before he hesitantly steps inside, his hand around mine tightening as he leads me into the kitchen.
“Fucking Christ,” he mutters when we reach the doorway and spy two young women at the dining table, their backs to us.
My heart stutters in my chest as Claire walks around us. “Well, I just thought it would be lovely to have more company today to enjoy this beautiful morning. You know how much I love having family around.”
And suddenly, as the two women turn their heads in our direction, I finally have to bite back a laugh.
This is just too funny.
Cassandra, I instantly recognize. I’m not actually surprised to see her sitting in his childhood home, looking as if she’s still family. I figured Claire had some reason for wanting Donovan and I to meet her for brunch.
But I am shocked that next to her, is the woman who slept with Laurie’s husband, James. Becky, also known as Laurie’s best friend since high school—well, ex-best friends now.
It’s too hilarious, and I quickly cover my mouth as a giggle escapes.
Donovan tugs me backward. “We’re leaving. Now.” His anger is palpable.
My laughter turns audible and I look at Donovan to see him giving me a staggering look. “Let’s stay,” I whisper, my mouth hurting from the grin. “This should be fun.”