Page 36 of Embracing Us

“Yes, with a beer to steady my nerves. I hope the flight is better this time.” She places the phone down, propped against something which gives me a view of our room in the hotel. I watch as she walks over to Jackson’s cot and leans down to lift him out. “Do you hear that baby? Daddy is coming home. We can’t wait to see him, can we?” She returns to the phone with our son in her arms.

“And I’m desperate to see you both. It’s been a long trip.”

“But necessary, and you won’t need to set foot back on English soil until we all have to return. Together.” My heart swells with the word together. It feels incredible to be part of an actual family unit again. “That was good news about the apartment, the first viewer taking it on.” Jackson lies in one of her arms as she shakes a milk bottle which had been left lying on the bed in preparation. She pops the teat into his mouth, and his eyes close as he begins to suckle. Her curves rock gently from side to side. “What time do you expect to be back with us?”

“Eight this evening, as long as there are no delays.” I glance at the departure board. “So far so good. It says we will be leaving on time.”

“Excellent. We will be here waiting for you. Dinner on the table and all that.”

“We live in a hotel, Linda,” I say with a chuckle.

“I didn’t say I would be doing the cooking.” Her tongue pops out between her lips in defiance. “Are you trying to get into an argument before you get home?”

“Depends what the making-up process will include. Sometimes falling out is worth it for the enjoyment of becoming friends again.” Her cheeks pink as she drops her eyes to our child. “I can’t wait to see you, Beautiful.” As she goes to open her mouth to reply, an announcement sounds across the bustling departure lounge. My flight being called. “That’s me. I better go. See you soon.”

Disconnecting the call, I slide my phone into my pocket and jump down from the bar stool. I grab my holdall from the floor, swing it over my shoulder and stroll off towards the passport control desk. People line up, one behind the other. I waltz past them down the priority boarding aisle. The woman at the desk holds out her hand but doesn’t look at me. I pass her my passport which she scans, then glances up to check I am who it says on the screen. Her face is sullen, it is obvious she doesn’t want to be here. Without a word, she hands my document back to me. “Have a great day,” I tell her, walking past and down the corridor towards gate forty-two to go home.

The orange and white plane sits in the stand, waiting for its cargo to board. The hordes of passengers climb up the stairs and into the metal tube that will take us to Spain. The flight is fully booked. I find myself beside a bubbly brunette heading off to a hen weekend. The rest of her group is seated five rows behind us. Even though they can’t be seen, they can be heard clearly, excited for the party ahead of them. On my other side is an older Spanish gentleman. He nods politely in greeting then opens his newspaper. Our journey is relaxed; we don’t speak, each of us lost in our own thoughts or entertainment.

Two and a half hours later, the plane drops onto the tarmac at Malaga Airport. We have barely come to a stop before everyone jumps up and starts to pull bags from lockers. People cram into the aisle, desperate to be first off the plane and out into the warm Spanish air. I squeeze myself into the departing line to make my escape. With no checked luggage to collect, I simply leave the airport, jump in a taxi and instruct the driver to take me home.

As I arrive back at the hotel, the sun has started to set over the ocean. The sound of the waves lapping onto the beach fills my ears as the smell of salt touches my nostrils. I breathe in deeply as I step out of the car. A few people are milling around enjoying the last of the evening sunshine. Most, I expect, will be inside for their evening meal.

The familiar door sits open in welcome for both residents and guests. I walk through into the bright foyer. My aunt sits beside her desk, poised at her computer as always. Her fingers type furiously. I wonder what she does. Neither Linda nor I plan to be stuck in that position for the duration of time she is. I suspect a lot of her time is spent doing something else. What, I don’t know. She glances up at the sound of my footsteps, her face splitting into a wide grin. With a tilt of her head, she signals to the bar, and I move in that direction. She rises then follows me.

On stepping through the doorway, I spot Jackson’s pram in the corner. When I go to it, I find it empty, and my eyes scan the room for my son. He’s snuggled in his mother’s arms, sleeping soundly as she sits on the sofa chatting with Crystal. Her gaze lands on me, and my chest strains. Hell, I’ve missed them. Crystal stands as I approach, allowing me space to sit beside my family. She wraps me in a quick hug. “Good to see you back, Maxy,” she says then leaves. I sit down next to Linda, leaning forward and kissing her gently. Her eyes close automatically.

“Hi,” she says when our mouths part, her eyes reopening. “It’s good to have you home.” I smile softly, then drop to my son, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“It’s good to be home,” I tell them, though Jackson doesn’t understand. “I’ve missed you both.” Linda’s breathing hitches slightly as I trail my fingers across her bare shoulder. She looks beautiful wearing a simple thin strapped summer dress, pale blue decorated with daisies. The material skims her body, highlighting her figure but not clinging to her skin. Her nipples bud beneath the fabric. I place my lips at her ear and whisper, “Are you not wearing a bra, Mrs Gordon?” Her mouth twists into a cheeky smile.

“I’m not Mrs Gordon,” she says. “You must have me confused with someone else.” My free hand moves to her bare knee, laying my palm over her skin. “My fiancé is due back soon. He won’t appreciate finding a random man pawing at me in a bar.” My fingers settle on her inner thigh and slide upwards. I press my lips to her cheek.

“I could imagine he may get a bit jealous if he found you in this situation. Another man’s hands on you wouldn’t go down well I don’t think.” She giggles, her chest rising and falling the way it does when she knows we are going to have sex. The sound speaks directly to my cock, which hardens. “I need to stop touching you, Beautiful, or everyone in this room is going to know what I’m thinking about.”

“And what would that be?” she asks, her voice husky.

“All the things I’m going to do to you once we are alone and Jackson is asleep. I hope you had a good night’s rest last night because tonight is going to be a late one.” Her eyes widen, triggering her pupils to dilate. “Can I give my son a cuddle?” She nods, then passes him to me. My heart rate, which had been rising, steadies as I watch my sleeping son, calm and sated, happy in the world he’s found himself in.

“Will we go upstairs?” Linda asks.

“What’s on offer?”

“You’ll only find out if you come upstairs,” she says with a smirk then stands. “I’ll see you in our room.” She shimmies past me, deliberately turning away so her pert behind passes across in front of my face. My aunt, who took her position behind the bar earlier, signals for me to come over as I stand. I move over to her.

“I won’t keep you long,” she says. “I’m sure you’ve other places you want to be. Did everything go all right in London? Linda said there were complications.”

“Marina,” I tell her in answer, and she nods in understanding. “But everything is fine, and my apartment already has a confirmed tenant. Just know, I am glad to be back.”

“Good,” she says with a smile. “Well, good night my two favourite boys.” She looks between me and the baby in my arms. “We can speak properly tomorrow.” I take that as my dismissal and turn in the direction of our room.

When I arrive at our doorway, the door sits ajar and soft classic music plays in the background. As I enter, Linda is nowhere to be seen, but I hear water running in the bathroom as if she is in the shower. Jackson’s changing table is set up ready to use. The heat hangs in the air as I remove his Babygro before changing his nappy then place him in his cot covering him with the soft wool blanket Crystal knitted.

I wander out onto the roof terrace, moving to the balustrade which looks out over the ocean below. Fine arms wrap around my waist from behind as her hands splay across my chest. Linda lays her head against my back. I never heard her approach; she must be barefoot. “Welcome home,” she whispers. I move to turnaround, and she tightens her grip on my body. “Face the front,” she orders. One hand trails down my stomach and rests over my crotch, my cock springing to life under her touch. She cups my balls gently through the material of my shorts, and her other hand descends to meet the first. We stand there, her holding me, unmoving. The sexual tension builds without saying a word.

Silently, she moves in front of me, then crouches down, sliding between me and the wall. Her nimble fingers unbutton my shorts and let them drop to the floor. My cock strains against my boxers, desperate for skin-on-skin contact. She removes the barrier and changes her position to be kneeling with her lips level with my dick. I glance around. Luckily, no-one looks onto the roof terrace. My hands move to her head, grabbing a handful of hair in each.

“Are you going to tease me, Beautiful? Or pleasure me?” I ask her, becoming impatient. She snorts quietly, amused. Linda has a love for delayed gratification, which is as infuriating as it is arousing.

“Both,” she says, then flicks the tip of my cock with her tongue, taking me by surprise. I place gentle pressure on the back of her head to encourage her forward. She takes me between her lips, letting me slide in. Her mouth is warm and wet, utter bliss. “Move,” she mumbles, and I flex my hips in answer. When I look down, her dark curls spill in all directions. It’s only then I notice she is naked, I think. All I can see is clear golden skin. My hips continue to work, enjoying her mouth, increasing in speed. Her hands move to my backside, sharp nails digging into my flesh.

“Linda,” I say, breathless. “I'm going to come.” She glances up at me with dark aroused eyes. “If you don’t want me coming in your mouth, we need to stop now.” She releases my cock.

“I want to taste you,” she purrs, then sucks me in once more. Taking my permission, I work faster. She holds tight as I thrust deeper, further than we’ve ever pushed before. The tell-tale sensation peaks, and I shoot my load between her lips. She doesn’t pull away. I watch on as she drinks it down, savouring every drop. Without a word, she stands and walks over to the waiting sun lounger. She lies down, with her knees bent and legs parted. “You’ve quenched my thirst,” she calls over sexily. “Now come over here, and I’ll satisfy your hunger.”

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