Us After You

by Claudia Burgoa

53

  Sage

  It’s almost midnight when we arrive home. The house is empty, there’s no sign of Mae. She’s next door with Alex and Hannah. Silently, we make our way to Tucker’s room. There’s electricity in the air.

  “I was thinking,” I say shyly. “About those things we haven’t tried.”

  He huff-chuckles. It’s a distinctive sound he makes when he’s amused and annoyed, at the same time.

  “We’ve barely done anything, Sage. I still wonder how tight your pussy is and if you can swallow me in just one thrust.”

  I lick my lips and say, “We can try.”

  “Wait, are you talking about…”

  “Maybe,” I say, caressing his crotch, loving how he trembles as I draw circles around his cockhead.

  “Don’t play with me,” he orders, but moans, losing the bossy effect he’s trying to accomplish. “I’m going to explode.”

  I slip a hand beneath his waistband, wrapping my fingers around his long, hard length. “Am I doing it right?”

  He doesn’t stop me as I unsnap his jeans and push them down. Tucker mumbles some nonsense and shivers as I stroke him from the tip of his length to the base, cupping his balls.

  I pull off his shirt and trace the rippled muscles of his chest, all the way down his abdomen, where I feather sweet kisses along the indentations of his abs. I smack my lips as I reach his cock and look up at him.

  “Tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

  “Impossible. Anything you do is so fucking great.”

  “Oh, fuck!” he cries, as I draw the head of his dick into my mouth, sucking him gently. I twirl my tongue around the velvety, delicate skin.

  Tucker thrusts his hips upward, pushing himself deep, then stops. “Sorry, sorry. I forget.”

  “That I’m a virgin?” I ask, releasing his hardness.

  I swear he hums when I take him in again, easing him in carefully. I swallow him inch by inch, watching him with satisfaction, as he arches up, yet again, but forces himself to stop.

  His face amuses me, he’s like a kid wanting to devour the cake but knowing that if he takes more than offered, he won’t be able to finish it.

  His fingers clench in my hair, as I take him deeper and deeper, while I massage his balls. Eagerness overtakes me as I hear him say my name gruffly, his eyes dazed with need. I take him all the way to my throat, loosening my muscles, letting him pump himself inside. Fucking me faster.

  In moments, his breath quickens, and his fingers tighten in my hair as he screams, “Sage!”

  It’s an intense scream, one last thrust as he comes in my mouth. After I swallow, I suck him one more time before standing up.

  He takes me into his arms, kissing me hard. Tasting himself on me.

  “Never leave me,” he says, and it’s a plea.

  “That good, huh?” I try to joke, to diminish the intensity of those three words.

  “No, I love you that much, Sage. It’s not about sex, it’s about you. Not sure if this is too soon or what, but I’m in love with you.”

  I’m frozen, paralyzed by his words, his confession. Is it too soon? How do I feel about him?

  He doesn’t let the words linger for long. He kisses me, pushing me onto the bed. The man has experience undressing women, because it doesn’t take long for me to be totally naked, and his mouth barely leaves mine.

  “Fuck,” he says, after he pushes my legs open. “I don’t have condoms.”

  “What?” I ask, perplexed. “What thirty something-year-old man doesn’t have condoms handy?”

  “The kind who doesn’t have sex,” he responds. “I …”

  He lets himself fall on top of me, defeated, his cock resting along my slit. I move further and push my hips up, inviting him to enter me, claim me.

  “I’m clean and on the pill,” I mumble, lusting for him.

  “Me too,” he says, as he buries his thickness slowly while I move my hips in circles. Each delicious inch spreading me wider until he’s deep inside me.

  “Mine,” he whispers. “Only mine to dirty up anytime it pleases us.”

  “At least you’re saying us.”

  “Anytime you want me, I’m yours, Sage. Sex has to be fun and exciting. Not under some crazy schedule that you set because it’s convenient.”

  I think of Alex who visits Hannah at the oddest times of the day at the office and leaves an hour later with a satisfied grin. There’s no schedule like they claim. It just happens, and they’re so happy.

  That’s what I want, to be happy with Tucker and just do whatever feels right.

  After a few slow and lazy movements, he begins to pick up the pace, and I move right along with him. It’s fast, too fast, but I can’t control it. Tuck’s gray eyes stare at me as he slides with deep strokes, filling me with his body and tending to my soul.

  This isn’t a quick fuck with some guy who claims to own me because he gave me a ring. A man who just pushes himself inside, causing me pain and not caring if I felt anything while he fucks me.

  Tucker’s pace is rapid, but his tenderness remains.

  He kisses me slowly. It’s not just a kiss, more like a way to swirl our souls into a vortex so powerful they might merge and never come apart. He thrusts relentlessly fast. We find our rhythm and move in perfect unison. He draws me close to the peak. I climb higher, higher.

  The energy’s building inside me.

  Bliss draws as I explode, and we both groan each other’s names. His hips slam one last time into me, and he roars. We remain embraced for a long moment. Our bodies braided, rejoicing as we continue kissing and satiating our aching hunger.

  It isn’t until my eyes start closing that I find the courage to say, “You can’t leave me either.”

  54

  Tucker

  “Is it too soon to ask about Thanksgiving?” Sage asks, as I place a thousand small kisses, carefully placed, on every single freckle on her back.

  “What do you need to know about the holiday?” I respond with a question, because I can’t think of anything else but her naked body. I plan on kissing every inch of her until I’ve tasted all of her.

  “Usually, I spend it with my grandparents,” she says, shivering with pleasure as I make my way down her spine. “How? I mean…with Mae, we can’t go to Oregon.”

  “We can bring them here,” I say, not caring much for this conversation. She’s talking about two weeks from now, are we supposed to decide now? “Nana is spending it with Alex’s family, which means Z and Ethan are going to my family’s.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want us to do,” I respond, inching my way to her beautiful ass. “Of course, we can join my family. They like your grandparents. Should we invite your parents too?”

  She laughs and wiggles, and I’m not sure if it’s the question or the fact that I’m nibbling her shapely ass, which is covered by a pair of yoga pants.

  “Just a friendly reminder, we’re not having sex,” she stops me. “I agreed to take a break because it’s almost dinner time, but no sex.”

  “I don’t like your rules, Heywood,” I protest, and she turns herself around, putting her tablet on the nightstand. “Are you afraid of a little fire? I promise not to leave any blisters after I consume you.”

  She grins, rolling her eyes.

  “Let’s invite my parents because I know they won’t come. I’ll talk to my grandparents about Thanksgiving. They might want to spend it with the rest of the family in Baker’s Creek. If anything, I’ll ask them to come over for Christmas if we have to split holidays.”

  “You could spend it with them. I’ll fly you to Baker’s Creek,” I suggest, but I won’t lie, it fucking hurts to think that she won’t be with us.

  “No, it’s Mae’s first Thanksgiving,” she offers. “Our first Thanksgiving together. I wouldn’t miss it—or any other holiday.”

  I sigh with relief, because I would miss her so much if she left. What has she done to me that I can’t imagine my li
fe without her? Is it too soon to feel this way?

  My friends were right. If I ever fell in love with someone, it’d be inexplicably fast and deep. I push myself up and kiss her, gently, softly, slowly. I kiss her like I would drink a nice scotch, savoring her. I inhale her scent, leaving her breathless, before I make my way to the kitchen to get Mae’s bottle ready.

  “That’s unfair, Decker!” she calls after me. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “I’ll take care of you after I take care of Mae,” I reply, soaking in the knowledge that I left a wonton woman in my bed, and if I’m lucky, she might be willing to let me fuck her all night.

  Who do you talk to when you’ve no idea where your relationship is going?

  I had a few choices. There’s Hannah, who is the only one in our group with a steady relationship, but I only go to her when I need a woman’s perspective. Alex, her other half, would be a great choice, but he’s in Denver, dealing with some production issues.

  Ethan has been single—or claiming to be single—for a couple of years. Zeke is rocking the same boat.

  The next best thing is my parents. I choose Matt. When I text him, he suggests to visit me. The moment he arrives, his first question is, “Where is … is she your girlfriend, partner, or still pretending you two aren’t together?”

  “We don’t have a title,” I simplify my explanation. He doesn’t need to know that with one kiss she took my soul or that every day I need her even more. “She went out with Hannah. Mae is upstairs sleeping.”

  It’s been a week since our date, and we behave like a couple. Sage still has her room, but she sleeps with me. We live together with a kid. Technically, we’re a family.

  “I told her I love her,” I say, going to the fridge and pulling out a couple of beers.

  Okay, maybe I do have to give him more information than I’d want to share. If not, how can he help me?

  He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, that’s a big step for cold Tucker Decker.”

  “Why did I call you and not Tristan?” I ask rhetorically.

  “He’s on a date with your mom,” he answers. “I guess I’m your only hope, kid. So, start talking.”

  “A date without you?” I ask, confused, because I don’t understand their relationship.

  He nods. “Every relationship needs nurturing. I love them both, together and individually. To grow as a couple, we need time to reconnect. Always remember that. Never take your loved ones for granted.”

  “Ouch,” I say. “Sorry about that by the way. It was hard to understand her, you know.”

  “Maybe you needed all the pieces, and we failed by just telling you what we thought was convenient,” he answers. “Your mom adores you. Since the first time she spoke about you there’s nothing more than love, admiration, and adoration. Tristan and I were thankful for you. You are the reason she’s with us. Until she knew you were in good hands, she didn’t let herself be happy or enjoy what we had.”

  “They made me hate her,” I tell him. “The way the Callaways talked about her was so despicable, and it sounded like if I became her, they’d hate me all the same. I understand why Mom left me with them. Why she didn’t come back for me, even when she knew where I was. Maybe it’s my age or … Rocco.”

  “Sorry about him,” he says, sympathizing for my loss. “How are you dealing?”

  “I’ve cried a couple of times. The guilt is still eating at me.” I look at him and say, “If I had listened to you.”

  “The past is a learning tool. Use it, don’t fixate on it,” he advises, taking a sip of his beer. “Listen, I’m a ‘live and don’t give a fuck’ kind of man. It happened. You have to grieve, but don’t stop living. Your life made a one-eighty turn. A kid turns your life upside down. We’re here for you. If you want to pay off the grandparents and tell them to fuck off, you have the money to do it.”

  He grins and looks at me. “Don’t tell your mom I gave you that advice. She wants you to mediate and make sure they remain in her life. I don’t think that’s what they want. Tristan and I swear they want whatever Rocco left her.”

  “I have the same theory,” I agree with him. “They’ll be disappointed when they figure out that the money is in a trust. She can’t access the money until she’s twenty-five.”

  “Who did that?”

  “I did. She’s mine. She doesn’t need anything,” I state, knowing I’d do anything to protect her. “Sage is the same, and I think she’s worried about what could happen if the court, the social worker, or anyone in charge of granting us the guardianship learns we’re together. Or maybe she doesn’t feel what I do.”

  “Love is hard to profess; some are ready to say it right away. Fuck, if I wasn’t having issues with Thea and Tristan when we started. They were skittish, and I had to be patient. Tell me about this not-together clause.”

  I explain to him what the lawyers said. While he listens, he nods, shakes his head, and sighs a few times.

  “She didn’t run away, which is a good sign. Mae is her priority—like she’s yours too,” he explains. “I’d say cool this shit until you have permanent guardianship of my grandbaby. One wrong move, and we’re going to be fighting for years.”

  “Okay, I’ll work on cooling it,” I agree, then tell him, “Thank you for this.”

  “Hey, I’m here for anything. I’m your father—” he breathes, the same way Darth Vader does. I can’t help but laugh.

  After the serious talk, we go into the basement, where I’m trying to set up a mini studio. At least a room where I can make some noise and spare Sage and Mae from my music—or my mood.

  It’s good to have this time with him after losing a few years. Maybe more, because when I was younger I was an ass, but who’s perfect?

  At least I am restoring and improving our relationship.

  55

  Tucker

  “What is your relationship?” the social worker, Mary Johnson, asks.

  “We’re co-parenting,” Sage answers. “I met Tucker when my sister got engaged to Patrick.”

  Mary looks from Sage to me and back, studying us for several minutes. Sage sits on the couch while I’m pacing around the room with Mae in my arms.

  Sage and Hannah convinced me to do this. Both said I’m very distracting when I hold Mae. I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I follow their lead.

  “Are you friends?”

  “We’re not exactly friends,” Sage answers. “It takes time to trust someone on a level where you can call them friends.”

  “I thought we reached that stage,” I say, or maybe ask, because what the fuck?

  Last night, after Mae went to bed, we talked about our favorite things. Quirky jewelry for her; her pussy for me. I even explained my favorite positions during sex—such a shame she didn’t let me demonstrate them because we’re abstaining.

  And now, we’re just acquaintances. What the ever-loving fuck?

  Sage glances at me and then goes back to the social worker. “I’m not saying we don’t get along. We’re just not at a point where I’d tell him my deepest, darkest secrets.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if she’s a serial killer or has a sexual fetish I should be concerned about. I want to remind her that for all I know, I already touched all her deep, darkest, and most beautiful parts.

  Then, I remember the social worker can wave her pen and take away our baby. Jokes might be more dangerous than I thought.

  “Mr. Decker, do you think your relationship with Ms. Heywood is strong enough to parent Mae for the next eighteen years?”

  “Eighteen years?” I ask, because I don’t like that she’s giving us some kind of expiration day. “Even thirty.”

  “We just need to know about the next eighteen,” she cuts through my bullshit.

  Well, aren’t we a ray of sunshine?

  I think we both need the same thing, to get laid. It’s been four days since my conversation with Matt, and Sage and I agreed, we have to cool things down until M
ae is officially ours.

  “Ms. Heywood, you moved from Baker’s Creek, is that correct?”

  Sage nods.

  “What’s going to happen to your bookstore? Are you going back once the guardianship is resolved?”

  “The bookstore belongs to my grandparents,” she answers. “I was there to help them. Sienna and I had talked about my life after Grandpa recovered completely. Seattle had been an option. I had to accelerate my plans once Mae needed me.”

  Mary scribbles in her notes, then looks up and asks me, “How about you, Mr. Decker? You have a Colorado address. Why?”

  “I have a couple of houses, including the penthouse in Denver,” I explain. “Before Mae, I traveled a lot. New York, California, Europe. It’s a second home. After Mae, this has become my permanent address.”

  She nods, making more notes. She already walked through the whole house, checking everything from top to bottom.

  “Don’t you think her grandparents are better equipped to take care of her?” Mary asks.

  “No,” I answer. “I know from a good source that they hired nannies to raise their children. They’re sixty-seven, and seventy-two, and please don’t think I’m saying grandparents that age can’t raise their children. But if they didn’t have the time or energy when they were in their late twenties and thirties for their kids, what guarantees that they do now?”

  “You two don’t have a stable home or a serious relationship,” she counters. “Are you capable to commit to this child?”

  Sage and I look at each other, and fuck, if I’m not committed to this family—to us.

  “That was us before Mae came. This is us after her. Fully committed and willing to sacrifice anything for her,” I tell her, marching next to Sage. “Family matters to me. This is my family; it’s unorthodox, unexpected, but ours.”

  Sage stands up from the couch, takes Mae in her arms, and whispers, “This is us after you. We couldn’t be more committed to one person.” She looks at Mary. “My parents aren’t fit to raise her. I know because I lived with them for eighteen years. If you see the letter my sister wrote, she’s very specific about me taking care of Mae because she doesn’t trust our parents. It can’t be clearer than that. Plus, they live in New York.”