Page 70 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

“Do you have any more kids?”

His body tenses. “I have a son. From my first wife. Our relationship is rocky.”

First wife? “You’ve been married twice?”

He pulls his arm away from me. “Don’t sound so judgmental.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

“I have a history. And when you’re in your forties, you’ll understand, because you’ll have a history too. Let’s hope yours goes better than mine did. ” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I don’t like my history, it’s not one I’m proud of. My son—I had him when I was young. I married his mother because that’s what was expected. I was dirt poor, but I had potential. Through loans I paid for medical school and spent my days and nights studying and taking care of a baby with a woman that I grew to hate. We resented each other. So, since we were so young and miserable, her parents agreed to adopt our son, raise him as her brother, and we divorced.”

“Her son…was raised as her brother?”

“Well, it didn’t work out so well. He got into some trouble as a teen, and the officer had his file out. Brennon saw his last name was originally Hall. Lots of questions came up, and she told him the truth. He went to therapy, and we all did therapy together. That’s why I moved to Lumberton.”

“Your son goes to Lumberton?”

“No. A town nearby, but I’m closer to him this way.”

“I thought my family had secrets.”

Roland nudges me with his shoulder. “Every family has secrets. Everyone has secrets. Adds for an interesting history, don’t you think? Nobody can ever say your life was boring.”

“What’s your secret, Roland?”

“I’m more attracted to you than I have been to anyone in my life.”

With no more words, I allow my eyes to close and instincts take over. His lips caress mine. Then his hand cups the back of my neck, lightly massaging it. I slowly ease back on the couch, and he follows me down, never breaking contact. My shirt and shorts are removed, along with his button up and slacks.

Roland might be older, but he has the body of a young man. Ripped muscles with a light dusting of dark hairs on his chest. His black briefs cling tightly to him as his erection feels like it might break through.

“Denise,” he says between kisses, “are you sure? I need to hear you say you want this.”

“I want this.” I sigh, as I lose myself in the warmth of his body.

“Then I’ll give it to you, if you’ll let me. Can I have you, Denise? If I take you, then you’re mine.”

“Then make me yours.”

He shoves his boxers down, and I feel him. I’m not experienced, but I know he is blessed in that department. His hands help me to relax, but at the same time, build me up. Slowly, he inserts himself between my thighs.

“It’s going to be a little tight, but trust me, I’d never hurt you.”

I nod as his hand comes between us. He works me into a frenzy and slowly eases in further. Roland whispers loving words and pays attention to every part of my body.

“Roland,” I sigh.

“God, it sounds so good to hear you calling out my name.”

He picks up speed and begins moving with more force. I feel him starting to lose control. A thought occurs to me, I’m not on birth control. “Roland.”

“Yes, say it again.”

“Roland.”

“God, yes!” He moves faster and faster.

“I’m not on birth control!”

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