Chapter 1 #3
“Mickie—” I protested but she ignored me. I was surprised by her sudden affection, she’d never kissed me before. And even if she’d once thought herself in love with me, enough years without any contact had passed, that I didn’t think she thought of me that way anymore.
“Mikayla,” she corrected, licking a long line down my neck and back up. She sucked on my lower lip before darting her tongue in and out of my mouth.
I kissed her back, my mind spinning and my heart torn. “Not now,” I whispered, even though every part of me wanted more. She had a head injury and stitches, and I didn’t want to hurt her physically or otherwise.
She seemed to misunderstand me because a look of rage flickered across her features, and she slammed her feet to the floor. “Fine. I’m tired anyway.”
“Go lie on the couch. I’ll wake you up in two hours in case you have a concussion. It’s better to play it safe.”
“Whatever.” She pursed her lips at me and rolled her eyes.
It seemed like typical bratty behavior, but I let her off the hook this time. She’d had a hell of a night, and I would have plenty of time to correct her attitude tomorrow if need be.
“Don’t push me, sweetheart. You’re stuck here until they clear the roads. I’d hate for you to stand up the whole time to avoid sitting on a warm bottom.” I tossed a threat in her direction to see how it landed.
“Fucking try it,” she stated firmly. “I’m not a little girl anymore.” She shot me a look and then left the room, no doubt to do what I had told her to. Damn, her eyes sure tempted me to give her hell right now.
I followed her out to the living room and handed her another blanket as she settled into the cushions.
She said nothing as I helped wrap the warm fuzzy blankets around her.
“If you weren’t injured, babygirl, I’d flip you right across my thighs where you belong.
Then I’d remind you that I won’t tolerate your bratting. ”
“I might have totaled my car, and my best friend’s wedding might be in three days time, but I can’t stand being back in this town right now!”
“You can’t stand this town, or you can’t stand being here with me?
” I brushed away her sudden tears with the pads of my thumbs.
Her gorgeous chocolate brown eyes sparkled as I did it.
I missed our interactions more than I realized.
She spoke the truth, partially. Mikayla wasn’t a little girl anymore.
She was all grown up, but I had an inkling that there was an inner Little who desperately needed some attention. At least, that’s how she acted.
“I couldn’t stand being stuck here without you,” she admitted, then bit her lip. “Please kiss me?”
“No, darling. Not when you might have a concussion. But I enjoyed your kisses and would like to revisit this later.” I set an alarm on my watch and got comfortable on the couch. Mikayla wiggled herself up to rest her head on my thighs, and I laced my fingers in hers. “Go to sleep.”
“Thank you for helping me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mikayla
Resting on the couch half on Sam should have been enough to settle the thoughts flying through my head.
The way he was playing with my hair and whispering sweet things should have reminded me how much he cared.
Just like his gentle touches should have made my brat settle, but it didn’t.
None of that was working. Being in his arms, an overwhelming sense of protection surrounded me—as if nothing bad could reach me here.
Instead I decided to see how far his patience would stretch.
Shifting a little, I pressed my lips briefly against his jeans. “Sam?”
“Your lips are dangerously close to my—”
“Mm-hmm?” I snaked my fingers out of his and boldly ran them down over his crotch, tracing the head of his cock.
“Mickie…” he threatened, but whatever admonishment he was about to deliver disappeared when I ran my tongue along his inner thigh. I wet the denim with my mouth and continued upwards until I reached his hardness now bulging against the tight fabric. With a wicked grin, I tugged his zipper down.
Sam clasped his hand over mine. “We’re not doing this right now.”
I pulled my hand back as if he had burned me.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Mickie. I’m worried about your head.”
“I’m more worried about yours,” I said, throwing even more sass into my tone. I didn’t like the way the snark fell out of my lips, but it happened all the same. My defense mechanism roared and I sat up.
“Not tonight.” He reached out for me. “Lie back down. We have plenty of time.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted, staring at his hand. What was the real reason he’d broken our kiss and now refused a blow job? I fixed his zipper but didn’t take his hand, so he reached around my waist and pulled me completely on top of him. His arms looped around me, and he kissed my forehead.
“Please don’t be embarrassed. I’m not upset that you touched me. Everything is fine.”
I nodded into his chest, once again happy to be against him as I tried to sort out the emotions stirred up inside me. “Sam…”
“I love you, but if you don’t settle down—”
I hooked my hands behind his neck. “Sorry, I’m done, I swear!
” He’d just told me he loved me, and honestly, that was enough to get me to finally ease the commotion in my brain.
I had known he cared—he’d said as much throughout the years—but he’d never said it so clearly.
Though there were many different forms of love.
Which did he mean? “Okay, I know I said I’d stop, but what do you mean?
You love me like I’m an annoying but endearing little sister? Or you love me like—”
“Stop spiraling, sweetheart. I’ve always loved you. Even when you were a little bundle of ribbons and lace. But the whole town did. You probably don’t remember, but your mother went out of her way to make everyone feel special. My parents used to invite the two of you over all the time.”
“So you were a teenager stuck babysitting a toddler?”
“Cut that narrative right now. I wasn’t stuck doing anything. I’ve always been about doing things for others. It’s kind of my thing.”
“Yeah, I know. I cried when you got deployed. I thought you might not come back.”
Sam sat up completely. “I’m shocked you remember that.”
“Of course. You were always someone important to me.”
“That makes me so happy. You’ve always been important to me too.”
He shifted me so that I faced him. Why was he surprised?
My much younger self hadn’t understood why he was leaving, but someone had told me the risk of him not returning.
It had scared me, and when he had come back, I had been the first one in line to hug him.
He’d always been special to me. I needed to know what he remembered about my mother, though, and I refocused on his point.
“Can you please go back to the story about my mom? I don’t remember her at all.”
“Yeah, of course. She used to help Nana, my mother, at her bakery on the weekends. I don’t know if your grandparents told you, but she started going to college when you turned two. She wanted to make a better life for you.”
“Where was my dad?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure if I really wanted the answer. Sam had mentioned the two of us coming over a lot, but the man whom I didn’t even have a photo of had not been brought up at all.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but he took off before you even introduced yourself to the world.”
The news hit me hard. Why hadn’t my grandparents told me? My grandfather was the only father I’d ever had, and this added information made me miss him even more. “Okay. Did bio-dad come back for her funeral?”
Sam clenched his jaw and released it, as if unsure how to reply. “No, babygirl, he didn’t.”
“I can’t believe he abandoned us!”
Babygirl. The sweet endearment made the blow a little softer.
He had said it earlier but I thought my ears were playing tricks on me.
I loved the way he said it like I was his.
After all this time, could that become real?
Leaning my head against his chest, I kept my face buried not wanting him to see my tears.
“You had a whole town watching out for you. Besides, someone like that doesn’t deserve to be in your life.”
I wiped the tears off my cheeks and looked up. “I’ve loved you for a really long time.”
He smiled sadly and cupped my chin. Sam laid us back on the couch, mindful of my injured arm, and draped his arms over me. “I love you too, sweetheart. Let’s get some rest now.”
I nodded into his chest, satisfied with his answers but upset over the revelation of the way my father had acted before I’d even been born.
Maybe just maybe after all this time, I might change my original plan and move back home.
Because now it seemed like I had someone worth moving to.
Someone who had loved me as long as I’d loved him.
Even if he hadn’t acknowledged my feelings all those years ago, we could talk about everything.
Deepen our connection. Dare I hope that we could get into a relationship?
If only I could get my brain onboard we might have a shot at it.