Forevermore (8 page)

M / 10
  

Morning sunlight filtered through the teal curtains in our bedroom. The growing heat and brightness woke me fully. Briony slept on beside me. Her hand lay on my shoulder, something she did throughout the night as if she had to stay connected to me at all times.

I rolled onto my side and studied my partner. I loved being able to say that, loved having a partner. For someone as damaged as I’d been, I never even hoped to be in this position.

Wheat blond hair brushed forward over her neck and pushed out behind her on the pillow. My fingers came up to drift down her neck, the skin soft and warm beneath my touch. I traced a path down to the straps of the camisole she was wearing and onto her shoulder.

“Morning,” her husky voice broke my concentration. She tilted toward me and stretched, her golden eyes blinking in the morning light.

“Good morning.” I watched her morning ritual with all the fascination I’d given it the first time we spent the night together.

She smiled and cocked her head, listening for any other sounds of life in the house. It was still a half hour before one of the kids would usually be up. Her smile flared when she didn’t hear anything. Her stretch lengthened, pushing me onto my back so she could cover me with her whole body.

“Hello,” I smiled up at her. My hands gripped her hips then skimmed up her sides, dipping under the camisole to appreciate her lean torso better.

She dropped a kiss on my mouth. “God, it feels like ages since I’ve had my hands on you.”

“It’s only been a week.” Last Saturday night to be precise when both Caleb and Olivia were sound asleep by nine-thirty after a long day of indoor laser tag. My laughter died in a groan when her mouth dragged down my throat.

“A very long week.” Her lips traced the angle of my V-neck shirt. Her hands ducked under the hem and pushed upward. “You feel better each time I touch you.”

I brought her camisole up and forced her mouth away from me to get it off. I took advantage of her raised position and ran my hands up the front of her to cup her breasts. I could never get enough of them. My thumbs swiped over the pale pink buds, bringing them to erect points.

She hissed and swooped down to kiss me. Soft lips and a surging tongue stoked the embers in my stomach. Her hands eagerly pushed at my t-shirt to bare my chest and mimic my caresses. A thigh dipped in between my legs and pushed against my suddenly throbbing center. Before Briony I’d never felt these sensations before. Now, in less than a minute, I could go from tranquil to desperately needy.

I reached down to strip off her shorts and let my hands skate back up over her rear. Desperation fueled my touch, but it warred with the need to drag it out. My breath was already ragged as I strained up against her thigh. Her fingers pulled at my underwear. I helped, frantic to slide my hot skin against hers.

Kisses rained down my chest, headed exactly where I needed. Her lips sucked my nipple into her mouth. My back arched off the mattress, following the suction of her lips. Her masterful tongue lapped and teased. It wasn’t until her husky chuckle that I remembered I had hands and a mouth of my own.

The chuckle died in her throat as my fingers grasped her nipples and tweaked just so. “Oh, yes, M,” she moaned as I repeated the maneuver. “Just like that.”

Her mouth was still making me brainless, but I knew we didn’t have all morning. Leisurely lovemaking had to be left to the nights when the kids were already in bed. A stolen morning meant fast, sometimes hard, but always explosive.

I slid a hand down her side and over her lower back, adding pressure to bring her fully onto me. Her pelvis fit to mine, both legs slipping between my thighs. Her face turned up to look at me with a sexy fire lighting her eyes. She circled her hips against me, fierce and powerful grinding. Little puffs of air pushed against my lips with her efforts.

Thunder sounded in rhythmic pounds from above, halting our motions. If I didn’t know better I’d think a large animal herd was coming down the stairs instead of just one boy. I sighed and Briony groaned.

“Cross your fingers he can entertain himself,” I whispered and rolled my pelvis against hers again.

“I did thank you for insisting we add sound insulation to the bedrooms and bathrooms when we renovated, didn’t I?” Her eyes twinkled down at me.

I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks remembering how Des had reacted when I asked for the insulation on the interior walls. I’d done it as much for the necessary quiet I needed to sleep as for the privacy we’d need to talk without Caleb overhearing and for moments like this. Nothing would embarrass me more if Briony’s son or our foster daughter could hear us making love.

I tunneled my hand between us and cupped her, effectively ending her tease. She was wet and plump and gorgeous in my hand. She wouldn’t last long. After years of making love with her, I could sense her climax almost before she could.

A knock sounded at the door. “Mom? You up yet?” Caleb’s raised voice reached us through the solid wood of the bedroom door. “We’re out of pancake mix.”

Briony gave a long, loud groan. He might have heard that one. “I’ll be there in a minute,” she called back, stilling her hips and shoving up onto stiff arms. She shook her head and gave me an apologetic look. “Dammit.”

I chuckled at her exasperation. We’d been interrupted before, but like she said, it had been a long week. She moved to get up, but my hands gripped her in place. I shook my head and gave her a determined look. My fingers went to work.

“We don’t have enough time,” she whispered and moaned as I zeroed in on her engorged clit.

“You’re almost there.” Adding the pressure she always needed to climax, I circled with one finger before sliding my hand lower. Her hips tilted automatically, seeking and needing what we both wanted. I didn’t make her wait. My index and middle fingers plunged into her silky depths. If we had more time, I would have drawn it out, slipping one then another inside her. Her moan told me she didn’t mind my hastiness. I pumped into her with my hips. She rocked against me, letting breathy sounds escape her lips against my ear. I added a thumb to her clit, rubbing just right. “You need this, Bri. Come for me.”

Her hips thrust hard against my hand. She leaned down to take my mouth in a savage kiss that was both demanding and preventative in keeping her usual exclamations from escaping. I felt the telltale flutters around my thrusting fingers before she went rigid and contractions squeezed my fingers to the sound of her muffled groan.

Her body dropped onto me in a boneless heap as her breath brushed over my neck. Nothing felt better than satisfying the woman I loved. “That was…God, Mabel.” She didn’t seem to have the energy to finish the thought.

I smiled at her sated state. Sparks raced through me every time she used my name. I never liked it, even when Kathryn called me by the name she’d chosen. But now, in these private moments with my partner, one whispered “Mabel” and I’d feel like I was falling in love all over again.

My hands rubbed her smooth back. This always reenergized her. She’d shift and shudder, milking the back rub for every second. Truthfully, I could stay in this position for hours, but we didn’t have that luxury.

“Let me,” she began, hands drifting down my sides.

I stopped their movement. “Not enough time. Somebody needs to be talked out of pancakes.”

“That kid!” she complained mockingly. “Here’s the deal. I’ll get French toast started and join you in the shower where we can finish this.”

I nodded, not counting on her being able to keep the promise because that was the life of a parent. As she pulled on her camisole, I found her shorts and reached for the robe she kept on one of the chairs in our room. I’d lounge here for ten minutes before getting up. Saturdays took some reserve energy to get through.

An hour later, the kids were fed and those special shower promises had been kept. I was still tingling from the refreshing wake up and made a note to set the alarm early for next Saturday so we could start the day the same way.

Caleb finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on. “Whose turn is it today?” He asked this every Saturday morning, even when he knew it wasn’t his turn. He always hoped that we’d forget that it wasn’t his turn and let him choose.

“Olivia’s,” Briony told him in a tone that said she knew exactly what he was trying.

This had been a routine she set up with Caleb after his other mom died. Briony put a lot of emphasis on doing activities together that didn’t involve a television or game monitor and helped to widen his interests. Family time could be anything from throwing a Frisbee at the park to painting mugs at a pottery store to bike rides and countless other little activities that didn’t break the bank. It taught the kids to make their own fun without the aid of television or gossiping with friends.

Changing my usual quiet Saturday plans had been one of those adjustments that worked out well and made me feel like a more complete person for it. I’d always been happy to hibernate on the weekends to decompress and maybe hang out with Willa or help out Hank and Lucille with something around their house. Having to come up with group activities that hopefully everyone would enjoy turned out not to be the pressure cooker I worried it would.

“Six Flags,” Caleb tried to mask his suggestion behind a cough.

We all laughed because he said this every weekend even when it was his mom’s turn to pick. Olivia would never ask for something like that because she was very aware of the cost of things. I understood where she was coming from but didn’t want it to be an issue. Once we adopted her, and I was now almost certain she’d let us, we’d work on getting her to be more of a kid than an accountant.

I waited for her choice. She’d only just begun to pick things she really liked. In the first few months, she’d pick something one of us would always pick like she was afraid that if she decided on an activity that only she liked, we’d have a reason to make her leave.

“Rollerblading,” she said, and while she knew it was one of my favorite things to do, it had become one of her favorites, too.

“Rad! Can Hank come with us?” Caleb asked his mom and ran toward the phone as soon as she gave her usual nod. “Livy, phone for you,” he called out from the kitchen. We all stared at each other because we hadn’t heard the phone ring and no one had ever called for Olivia.

She cautiously made her way over to the phone. I tried not to listen in on her private conversation, but it was plucking my curiosity to know who called. Briony seemed to be leaning toward the conversation as well.

“Hi, Eden.”

My heart pumped faster. I’d never have guessed that seeing my child so happy would transfer that happiness to me. She finally had a friend in her own class. Sure, she knew some of the kids to talk to them, but when I used to listen to her day, I’d want to strangle some of the kids at her school.

I stepped up to her and whispered, “Does Eden want to come with us?”

Her eyes popped. She looked grateful that she could invite her friend and relieved that she didn’t have to ask permission to make the offer.

Briony stopped beside me, gesturing for the phone. “We need to ask her mom first.”

“Dad,” I corrected, remembering Eden’s situation. Since our first meeting, we’d learned a little more about her divorced parents and her mom’s overseas executive job that didn’t give her much time with the kids. For a girl who didn’t see her mom often, she was terribly well adjusted. Her dad must be a super parent.

Briony nodded and told Olivia, “Her dad has to say it’s okay, and I want to hear it from him.”

This was where Briony’s extra practice as a parent came in handy. It didn’t occur to me that we’d need to make sure he was okay with her joining us today. I knew how careful we’d be with her, but of course, he didn’t know us yet so this step would be important. I’d learned a lot about parenting from Briony and everything about being part of a family from her. To see Olivia feeling secure, Caleb eager and ready, and Briony happy and serene, I’d gladly give up my once relaxed Saturdays and so much more.

M / 11

One hour into gardening, the kids were ready to quit. Caleb and Hank were already complaining and Olivia looked wiped out. We’d gotten up early so that we could get this yard work done before the heat of late May overwhelmed us. It wasn’t how I wanted to spend my last weekend before spring semester ended either, but Lucille needed this done and we were five able-bodied people who could do it.

“It’s so hot,” Caleb whined.

“Can’t we do this another day?” Hank signed.

“We’ve already put it off the last two weekends because you guys whined about it then,” I told them.

“We’re not whiners!” Caleb whined again.

I gave him a look. We’d both had to adjust to being part of the same family, and while he could sometimes get away with procrastinating or not doing what he was told with his mom, I tended to wear him down until he did whatever it was.

Olivia was making good progress at clipping the hedges along the fence line, but the boys were dragging their jobs out like they hoped everything would magically get done without them having to work. Lucille had been shaping the ivy, but at sixty-four she actually needed the breaks the two whining teenagers kept asking for.

“I don’t see why I couldn’t go with Mom today.”

I stopped sawing through the dogwood branch I was working on and came out from under the tree to talk to them. As his stepmom, I usually took a reasoning approach with Caleb. Briony could get away with telling him off.

“That wasn’t an option,” I began. “Our friend asked us for our help. No one likes doing this kind of work in this kind of weather, but we do it because it needs to be done. Does that make sense?” That was my best impression of a reasonable parent.

“Why isn’t Mom here helping, then?” Caleb persisted. These kinds of conversations were the first signs he’d turned into a teenager a couple of months ago.

“Your mom has department evaluations to finish and then she’s going to Caroline’s.”