Page 22 of Merry With A Milkman

With a harsh chuckle, he teases the head of his cock over my clit then positions himself. “At your command.”

He plunges hard and deep and joy fills my cry. Lifting my chest from the counter, I push back into his thrusts. No words intrude on this moment. Only the sounds of our bodies coming together. Our grunts and moans as we discover new pleasures, explore new angles, reach higher for release.

Cupping my mound, Rhone teases my clit and I bite back my scream.

“No, wanna hear. Uhh, scream for me…”

I will deny this man nothing and cry out his name. He presses hard and high inside me. I’m so sensitive I feel the jerking pulses of his release along with the low, groaning vibrations of my name. My second orgasm follows right on the first and we moan in unison. Hands braced on the counter, Rhone hovers over me, kissing my shoulders, and whispering what might be words. I’m so far gone in the aftereffects of a double orgasm, I’m not sure.

His sigh blows cool breath across my back. “Don’t move, honey.”

I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I do whine my disappointment when he pulls his marvelous cock from my body.

“Sorry, sweetness.”

“’sokay. Just don’t go far.”

His chuckle almost covers the sound of the trash can lid closing. Then he’s behind me again. “Can you stand?”

“I don’t know.” I ease back so my feet completely touch the floor then straighten and turn although I’m leaning a bit to one side and can’t seem to correct my stance. “Looks like I can.”

With a doubtful look and a chuckle, he wraps one arm around my shoulders, the other under my knees and lifts me into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you.”

“You can’t do that.” I give a half-hearted wiggle. I really like how it feels to be cradled in his arms.

“Why not?” He moves toward the bedroom.

He says he likes my curves but looking and lifting are two different things. “I’m too big. Too heavy.”

“Obviously not since we’re here. Would you throw back the covers?” He leans far enough I’m able to grab the blanket and sheet and toss them to the end of the bed. “Thanks.”

After laying me on the mattress, he circles the bed and climbs in next to me. Once under the covers, we face each other, our legs tangled together, and share easy kisses and soft, undemanding touches until he falls asleep. One more kiss to his relaxed lips and I snuggle closer. “I love you, Rhone.”

“I love you, too, sweetness.”

eleven

Rhone

Tegan said she loves me. My sex addled and half-asleep mind didn’t think twice about responding with my own declaration before sinking completely into luscious dreams about her. In the morning I knew she didn’t need to be up early while I had cheese I needed to attend to, so I slipped out while she still slept.

Like a chicken-shit, I didn’t say anything about love on the note I left. I’m not convinced I actually heard her say the words. It could have been in one of my dreams. Hell, my response could have been part of a dream as well. Why bring up something so important when you don’t know what’s real.

My love for herisreal. There has never been a doubt in my mind about that. Attraction, lust, those are part of what I feel for her. My feelings go far deeper than those surface levels. I never knew how fathomless my emotions could run. She-who-I-won’t-name had never inspired anything close to what Tegan brings out in me. I’d thought I loved that self-involved woman. I couldn’t have been more wrong about someone who was so far from what and who I needed.

My ex wanted to be pampered and taken care of. She didn’t think she needed a job when she had me—or whatever sucker she’s involved with now. There was nothing of value she brought to a relationship except her presence—which she thought too highly of.

Tegan helped build and runs a successful business with her brother. She’s taken on the task of helping others do the same. She doesn’t need anyone for financial support. After growing up with the mindset that the man is the breadwinner, the thought she doesn’t need me in that respect should concern me. But it doesn’t. Her strength and determination are part of why I’ve come to love her more every day.

We’ll be equal partners and provide for each other. We’ll share our successes and deal with those inevitable failures along the way. That’s life. Life with Tegan will be more than I ever imagined.

Tegan needs to know this. Once I make the deal with Mr. Omata—or not—I’ll tell Tegan how much she means to me. How I need her. How deeply I love her.

The moment is fast approaching. The building owner will be in town this weekend. By Sunday I should know what direction my business and my love life will be taking.

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