Chapter 13 #4
He sounded so sincere. And yet— “So why Mike? It hurt me so much.” The words came out harsh and raw, against the closed muscles of her throat.
She remembered it so clearly, that day. The magic kiss, as she now thought of it.
Something enchanted, golden. Gone. Like a dream, long ago.
When Amanda’s work proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mike couldn’t have beaten that poor woman up, Chloe had been waiting with Ellen and Nicole.
Both had jumped up to join their husbands, embrace them.
Chloe had jumped up, too, to run to Mike.
And he had taken a step back, eyes shuttered and blank, and broken her heart. Arms that had been outstretched to hold him fell back down to her sides.
He had stood there stiffly, eyes on the ground, thanked her formally, and disappeared. Chloe had stood there, shocked, unable to move.
The others had looked at her, the women with pity in their eyes. Harry had put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you, honey, for what you did,” he’d said and she had nodded, unable to speak. Because if she spoke, tears would have burst out of her.
The rest of the evening had been a blur as they sat back down at the table, without Mike, and finished the food.
Chloe had long experience with feeling out of place, so she’d choked a little food down, spreading the rest around her plate, counting the seconds until she could say she was tired and would like to go to bed.
Where she cried herself to sleep.
And then Mike showed up the next morning, having called up the condo manager and found her a flat on Harry’s floor.
He accompanied her to every furniture store in San Diego, or so it felt, worked alongside the delivery guys bringing in the furniture and, where necessary, assembling it, and had her set up in less than three days.
She’d seen him every day since, and he never touched her again.
“Why?” she whispered.
He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “That’s not important now, Chloe. What’s important is that things have changed. It’s not like that anymore. Here.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
In the shower, he gently placed her injured arm on his shoulder. “There you go. We need to keep it dry.”
Chloe had been washed before, of course. Plenty of times, in the hospital. Hospitals. But never like this.
Mike pumped some minty-smelling soap onto a wash cloth and ran it over every inch of her body, followed by warm water and then his mouth.
Long, sensuous strokes of the cloth followed by long sensuous strokes of his tongue.
Her neck, her shoulders. The warm cloth went lower, circled her breasts while he watched her so very carefully.
Chloe could see the skin move over her left breast, in time with her heart. Did he understand the effect he was having on her?
She looked up to find him watching her carefully, face tight, eyes like blue fire locked onto hers.
Oh, yeah. He understood.
He bent her slightly over his left arm and with his right washed her belly. Chloe felt unbalanced, in every way there was, unsure of her footing. But Mike had her. She wasn’t going to fall down.
He nuzzled the underside of her left breast, the one that was pounding, lips brushing lightly over her skin while taking light little tastes.
A flush went through at each touch of his lips, stroke of his tongue.
And then—oh God!—he was suckling her nipple, long, hard pulls of her mouth echoed in her vagina, internal muscles tightening with each tug of his mouth.
Her breathing became ragged and if she didn’t have his strong arm holding her up, she’d slide down into the tub, unable to stand.
Her hands slid from his shoulders to his head, holding him as he suckled her. His mouth pulled back, he gave her nipple a last lick which she felt down to her toes, and straightened.
She didn’t have to look down to know he was aroused. His nostrils were flaring as he breathed in and out heavily, underneath his dark tan he was flushed and his lips were red, engorged.
His eyes suddenly widened.
“What?” Chloe asked.
Mike gave a half laugh which sounded as if he were choking.
“I can’t believe this. I have not been without a condom in my pocket since I was fifteen years old.
Ever.” He closed his eyes in pain then opened them again, blue and fierce.
“And now I am without a condom. Totally. Don’t even have one in the house.
Haven’t needed one these past six months.
Fuck.” He blew out a big breath. “What are we going to do? I can’t make it to the drug store.
Closest one’s about a mile and a half away.
Just can’t do it. Can’t ask Harry or Sam, either. ”
Chloe stroked his shoulder, then ran a fingernail along the top muscle, hard and bulging, slowly going from the ball of his shoulder up his neck to behind his ear. She wasn’t hurting him but he could feel the bite of it.