Stay(59)

Rolling her to the side, I lean my head down and kiss her soft lips. Her hands thread into the sides of my hair, and she kisses me back with equal fervor. It fuels my passion. I touch her waist, gathering the thin tank she’s wearing in my fists and quickly lifting it over her head.

Her small breasts bounce out, and I cup them in my hands, covering her tight nipples with little sucks, bites, and soothing kisses.

She moans and squirms, and I slip my hand down, sliding it inside her panties, my fingers threading into her, circling her clit.

Her back arches and she holds my face, eyes closed as she rocks against my hand. “Yes…” she whispers. “Right there… right there.”

She’s fucking my hand, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I kiss her cheek, moving my lips into her hair, biting her ear. “Come for me.”

Her head turns, and her lips move to mine. “I want to come on your dick.”

Fuck me, that’s a shot straight to my throbbing erection. “Open your legs.”

She does as I say, and I rip the string of her thong aside, lining up my tip with her core and sinking it to the hilt.

We both groan at the sensation, moving our bodies in time. Her legs wrap around me, and I clutch her ass, working her body as I chase my climax.

“Stephen…” She bucks and rides, gasping as her muscles spasm around my cock.

I don’t take long in following her. “Oh, fuck, Emmy, you feel so good.” I pulse and jerk, coming long and hard, holding her close, never wanting to let her go.

We come down from our amazing high, drifting to sleep in each other’s arms.

On the edge of unconsciousness, my chest swells with a sense of pride. I did this. I made this beautiful woman mine.

The problem with arrogance is you never see your fall coming until your face is planted in the dirt.





23





Emmy


“Dry cleaning doesn’t stop for life.” The sign out in front of Miss Con-Cleaneality this week is more prophetic than Lulabell knows. I take a deep breath and head inside, where a line of customers has already formed.

It’s a Monday, and regardless of Eli’s surgery, we’re slammed as usual. I’m actually glad, as it takes my mind off the incessant worry. On the outside, I’m all smiles and confidence. On the inside, it feels like little ants are eating me alive.

The list of complications of brain surgery is on a scroll in the back of my mind—fluid on the brain… loss of memory… meningitis… stroke… Every time a complication pops into my mind, I say a prayer against it.

I read a few days ago how meditation eases anxiety, so I downloaded an app. Sitting in silence, doing my best not to think about it… I almost had a panic attack.

“I’m praying for Eli.” Lou makes me jump when she touches my shoulder.

She caught me in front of my locker, fighting my thoughts. I immediately plaster a smile on my face. “Thank you.”

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to be strong in front of me.” She pulls me into a hug, but I fight the tears. “I’ll stop by the church in the morning and light a candle. Tell me as soon as you know something.”

“I will.” She releases me, and we hear the bell ring out front.

Stepping to the side, she calls, “We’re closed.”

“Just picking up the wife.” Stephen’s deep voice calms me. He stops at the entryway near us.

She gives him a wink. “Hey, handsome. Why don’t you drop by more often?”

“I would if my stubborn wife would stop walking home.” He leans against the doorframe looking absolutely perfect in slacks and a light blue oxford.

I don’t remind him I’m trying not to get used to all the pampering. Instead, I manage a tease. “No blazer today?”

“It’s in the car.” He studies me the same way he’s been doing since we met with the doctor, watching for a break.

“Well, I’m headed out.” Lulabell walks to the door. “You two lock up before you go, okay?”

“Sure thing,” I call after her. “Thanks, Lou!”

Despite my anxiety, Stephen’s gaze, his presence, manages to light up every nerve ending in my body. Is it possible my anxiety makes me even more sensitive to him? All I know is he swooped in and proved me wrong. He is my hero.

I’ve really got to stop thinking of him this way.

“How’d it go today?” he asks.

“Busy as always.” I pick up my purse, sliding the strap over my shoulder. “It’s good to work. Keeps my mind occupied.”

His lips tighten. I know he hates that I’m worried. It’s just… Eli is all I have. Eli trusts me to do what’s right for him, and if anything goes wrong…

I couldn’t survive it.

Stephen, by contrast, is confident, reassuring. “This time tomorrow it’ll be over, and Eli will be on his way to recovery and a new life.”

“A new life…” I think what a relief, then I realize what that means. “We should start looking at apartments in Midtown. It might take time to find something I can afford.”

“You want an apartment in Midtown?” He waits as I take off my vest and hang it in the locker, slamming the door.