18. Sarah
Ilocked myself into his bathroom and splashed cold water on my face to cool my burning cheeks. I thought it was so sweet that he invited me to meet his mother. After all, it was the natural thing to do in a relationship, which meant he was actually really interested in me, not just a fling. But the turmoil of my roiling gut wasn’t calmed by his sentiment. My entire body shook with panic after his questions about Emily’s father. I almost choked on a bite of food when I thought he was asking because he’d figured things out.
It had to be obvious to him. If Emily was four, and we’d been together almost five years ago, it was logical for him to put two and two together. A ten-month gestation after our wild night together left the timeline very short for me to have found anyone else, though he had no idea whether I’d been with anyone else.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I tried to calm my racing heart. I was playing with fire—a very hot, very dangerous fire. Tears threatened to come, but I blinked them back. Michael was so perfect in every way. I wanted him so badly, but there was no way he’d forgive me for having lied to him. And even if he did forgive me, there wasn’t a chance I’d move away from Savannah. Life here was exactly what I wanted.
My head dropped and I rubbed my cheeks, trying to remove the blush. I wasn’t getting out of this evening without facing him again, so I had to calm myself down. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, flipping through the images I had. I’d taken dozens of pictures of Emily, though I’d lied to Michael about not having any. What was I supposed to do, just show him? That wouldn’t turn out well. This whole situation was out of control, and guilt needled my conscience. I should have told him right away. It was my fault.
He deserved so much better than me and my secrets. And Emily deserved to know her father, too. But it was so complex, I didn’t even know what to do now, or what the right thing was. To tell him or not tell him—it seemed no matter what I chose, there were horrible consequences waiting, and all I wanted to do was to go back to two months ago when life was happy.
“Sarah, are you okay?” Michael’s voice was accompanied by a light rapping.
“Uh, yeah,” I said as I grabbed a hand towel and dried my face. Then I forced a smile and looked at myself in the mirror to make sure it was convincing. It wasn’t to me, but hopefully, Michael didn’t pry as to why I”d vanished.
I unlocked the door and swung the door open, and he moved in like a breath of fresh air, cupping my cheek. “I was worried. You ran off so quickly.”
“I’m okay. I just got overwhelmed.” I tried to look away, but he had a hand on my face, forcing me to hold his gaze. It was intense, looking right into his eyes while trying to hide my shame.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried about Emily’s father.” He grimaced and added, “It’s Emily, right?”
I leaned into his touch and smiled. “Yes, that’s her name, but that’s not what I was overwhelmed about.” The lie was so easy for me, slipping off my velvet tongue and drawing confusion from his face.
“What, then?”
“Michael, I’m worried that we’re moving toward a relationship that isn’t feasible. You want me to meet your mother, but you want to move away. And then the added stress of what if work finds out. What will our coworkers think?” I let the words hang in the air as he pulled me in for a hug, wrapping his strong arms around me in such a comforting move, I had to stop talking.
His scent enveloped me, surrounding me with musky warmth in a heady mixture of sandalwood and pine. I let him hold me, lacing my hands together behind his back, and he kissed my cheek and tangled his fingers beneath my braid.
“Look, if we’re meant to be, then everything will work itself out. We don’t have to think about the future right now. We just need to be together.” His words were aimed at comforting me, and in an ideal world, they would, but he had no clue about the baggage I carried that negated everything he just said. Still, I let him hold me, and then I let him kiss me. Which turned into a deeper kiss and his hands finding my hips.
“Mike, I…” I wanted to protest this because it was exactly what my heart did not need. More physical connection with him would only make the emotion I felt for him stronger. I was in love with him, fully and helplessly. He made me so happy. How could I say no to him?
His lips claimed mine, parting so his tongue could search my mouth. I didn’t resist his advance because I wanted him. Deep down, I wanted this with him every day. I wanted so much more, too. I just wanted it to be secure and something I didn’t have to fear would be taken away.
And when he slid my shirt up in the back and touched my skin, I lost my train of thought. Those nagging, guilt-inducing accusations that I was leading him on faded. The shame that I’d kept things from him dissipated, and it was just me and him and all the desire we had for each other. It overpowered every other thing until my pants were on the floor and he was hoisting me to the bathroom counter.
His hands, rough and urgent, traveled over the expanse of my body. Each touch was a spark igniting my skin, heating me up till I thought I would burst into flames from the sheer intensity of it. His eyes were dark and brooding as they held mine, expressing volumes about his need for me. At that moment, I knew he wanted me just as desperately as I wanted him.
He stripped himself of his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest and abdomen that were products of years of hard work and dedication. I let my hands wander over his naked torso, feeling the firmness of his flesh beneath my fingertips. Then he pulled my shirt over my head, then my bra. Last were his slacks, puddled on the floor with the rest of our clothing as he reached into his medicine cabinet and took a condom out of the box.
“Not yet,” I told him, pressing lightly on his shoulders. “Eat me, Doc.” My orders seemed to be his sheer pleasure. He laid the condom next to me on the sink and sank to his knees. His hands spread my thighs, thumbs pulling my soft lips apart. He blew a warm breath over my moisture and it chilled me to my core.
“God your pussy is so pretty,” he said before he descended to claim me. His lips were like velvet, his tongue a brand that seared my most intimate flesh with insatiable desire. He was relentless, lapping and sucking, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through my body. As I grasped the edge of the bathroom counter, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, drowning in the sensation.
As he worked his magic, his hands moved up and down my thighs, caressing me gently. It was as if he knew exactly what to do to drive me crazy. My breathing grew ragged as I felt my climax looming on the horizon. ”Mike, I…” I gasped out, arching into him. I rested a foot on his shoulder, and he slid two fingers into me.
“Oh, God, oh, God…” I panted and leaned forward, feeling my orgasm coming, and he growled against my sensitive flesh.
His fingers curled inside me, finding that sweet spot that had me seeing stars. My body tightened. My pulse thrummed in my veins as pleasure took over. I came with a gasp, my body convulsing as waves of ecstasy pulsed through me.
He didn”t stop his ministrations as I rode out my climax. His tongue and fingers continued their sensual dance even as I was left shuddering and sighing from the intensity of it all. Only when I collapsed against the mirror behind me, spent and panting, did he finally rise to his feet.
His gaze held a smoky passion as he looked at me, a sense of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. His fingers were still slick with me as he reached for the condom, tearing the foil packet open with a pointed determination that had me shivering in anticipation.
”Are you okay?” he asked, his voice husky with desire and raw emotion. His hands shook slightly as he rolled the condom on—a sign of his own arousal that sent a thrill down my spine.
I gave him a nod, pushing myself back up to a sitting position. I was breathless, my heart pounding in my chest, but I met his gaze head-on. I wanted this. I wanted him. His hands moved to my knees, gently spreading them, and then he was there, standing between them. With a firm hand on my hip and the other around his girth, he positioned himself at my entrance.
”You sure?” he asked one last time, the heavy weight of his concern making the air thick. I nodded once more, meeting the intensity of his gaze with a certainty that came from deep within my soul.
”Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the thunderous beating of our hearts.
And then he was inside me. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion, my body stretching to accommodate him. My fingers clung to his broad shoulders as he started to move, slow and deliberate at first. He was careful, gauging my reactions, adjusting his pace to my breaths. His fingers dug into my hips as he anchored himself deeper within me, his intense gaze never leaving mine.
“God, your dick is so huge,” I groaned, clenching around him. My hands locked onto his wrists as my hips met his rhythm.
As our bodies moved in sync, I could feel a new wave of desire building within me. Any initial discomfort was quickly replaced with a building pleasure that made me arch against him. His teeth sank into my shoulder as he quickened his pace, and in response, I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him closer, deeper.
His thrusts became more urgent as he leaned over me, our faces inches apart. His breath was ragged, hot against my cheek. His eyes were dark and wild, the beast within him unleashed. I could feel him everywhere—in the roughness of his hands, the heat of his breath, and most importantly, in the powerful thrusts that were sending me spiraling toward another climax.
”You”re so tight,” he murmured into my ear, panting hard. I could only respond with a whimper, lost in the sensations that were overwhelming me.
His hand slid down between us, thumb finding my clit again. He started to rub it in rhythm with his thrusts, and I let out a moan. It was too much. I couldn’t control myself. ”Mike…” I gasped, my voice choked by the sheer intensity of it all. He merely grunted in response, the lust for me clear in his heavy breath and unyielding drives.
With a desperate cry, I clung tighter to him. His fingers worked against me, his thrusts unrelenting, expertly pushing me to the edge of ecstasy. A second orgasm crashed into me, each wave of pleasure more breathtaking than the last. My eyes rolled back and my nails dug into his shoulders as I rode the wave, my body undulating against him in a desperate rhythm.
And then his thrusts slowed, his cock pulsing inside me. I knew he’d found release too, evidenced by his slower movements and soft kisses on my shoulder.
How could something that felt so amazing be so dangerous for my heart? This was pushing me toward a major catastrophe. Michael would find out about Emily and hate me. And for as long as we’d been at this now, and how I’d had every opportunity to tell him but hadn’t, he’d only hate me more. All I could do was cling to him, kiss him, and pray it didn’t destroy my heart when the truth came out. Because I knew it was going to upset his entire life plan.