CHAPTER 41
I’m up early in the morning. I’m supposed to be going to work to start the beginning of my last two weeks, but instead, I called Shantae to let her know I wouldn’t be coming and if she had any tours, she needed to take Mauricio with her. She told me she didn’t have any scheduled for the day and hopefully, it would stay like that for most of the week.
I take a shower, though I didn’t want to wash any remnants of last night away from my skin. After getting out, I moisturize my tired body and touch the passion marks Axel has left on my neck, my breasts, my stomach – all over my body. The sight of them stirs me, giving me flashbacks of making love to my husband. Every memory fills me with need. I desperately want more of him, but I’m going to cook breakfast and push my aching desires to the back burner. I wonder if he aches for me the same way I’m feenin’ for him, or is he used to this? It’s my first time. He’s probably not as wound up as I am.
I throw on a big T-shirt and step out of the bathroom. Axel is still in bed, so I’m careful not to make too much noise as I move about. Quietly pulling the bedroom door closed, I go to the kitchen and whip up a pancake batter. Then I put some bacon in the frying pan. Once that’s done, I cook the pancakes on a griddle and walk to the fridge to remove a carton of eggs.
That’s when I feel his arms wrap around me from behind. His smell – my goodness – it’s an aphrodisiac all on its own.
I smile and say, “Good morning to you, too.”
He doesn’t say a word. He lifts me up from behind and carries me over to the table. I place the eggs down and then, with my hands flat on the table, he pulls up my shirt and connects our bodies so quickly, I didn’t have time to brace myself.
“Ah!” I shriek. “Axel! Oh, my—”
It wasn’t until this moment I realized what people meant when they said pain was pleasure. This was one of those moments, and I was ready for whatever Axel wanted to give me.
He grips me tighter and owns my body with the kind of precision that comes with experience. I feel his love for me as equally as his lust and the primal desire to mate with me all wrapped up in his strokes. This wasn’t the same gentleman from last night who asked me if I was okay and made sure my first time was as painless as possible. No, this was a man who knew what I was able to handle now and treated me as such.
And here I was thinking his desire for me wouldn’t be as potent as it was last night. He must’ve read my mind because this is exactly what I wanted. I just didn’t know it would be courtesy of my kitchen table. It could’ve been the floor for all I cared. I just wanted him. And I have him.
“Ax,” I whimper, standing on my tiptoes while his hands grip my waist.
“Mmmm…Ax…Axel!” My body weakens and turns to mush.
He continued the task at hand, weakening me even further while keeping a steady rhythm that I had no way of keeping up with. My sensitivity leaves me with no energy. He has all the control now.
“Zimyra, baby,” he utters right before emptying and slumping down on top of my back, breathing heavily.
“Mmmm,” he hums, sounding relieved like he just released an ache. A burning desire. And now he struggles to catch his breath while we remain locked in this position.
When he’s finally able to, he releases me, slowly disconnecting us to my great dissatisfaction. He pulls me into his embrace, squeezes me from behind, and then spins me around so that I finally have the pleasure of seeing his face. His eyes. His mouth. His lips.
“Good morning,” he says, grabbing a fistful of my hair before leaning down, licking my lips before sucking them into his mouth. He kisses me deeply, with heavy strokes of his tongue bathing my throat.
When he releases me, I say, “Good morning, Axel.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. I was cooking breakfast before I was interrupted .”
“Go ahead and finish up,” he says, then slaps my butt. “I’ma take a shower real quick.”
“Okay.”
I sit across from him at the table where he just had me bent over. He eats like he hasn’t eaten in days. I take small bites, trying to figure out when to dive in with conversation and decide to just go for it. By the time I open my mouth to speak, he says, “Twice now, I’ve given you my babies. That’s a weird feeling for me.”
It takes me a minute to comprehend what he means. My cheeks redden when I finally understand. I ask, “Why’s that a weird feeling for you?”
“I’m usually protected. I’ve never done that before—never given a woman that much of myself.”
“No?”
“No, and while I love everything about giving it to you, I’m not ready to share you with anyone—not even our own children.”
“No?” I ask.
“No,” he responds.
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t be throwing me across the kitchen table and having your way with me.”
His grin turns into a smile that grows on his handsome face.
I say, “I’ve been on birth control for years. They help regulate my cycle. I won’t get pregnant unless I stop them. Does that put your mind at ease about giving me your babies ?”
“Very much so.”
I eat a piece of bacon and say, “I want children.”
“I know you do. I remember our discussions. I want them, too—just not right now. I selfishly want you all to myself.”
“Even more so than last night and this morning?”
“Yes. Even more so than last night and this morning, Zimyra.”
He cuts into a stack of pancakes, dips it in syrup, and consumes the helping like a starved lion. “You made me work up an appetite.”
Amused, I say, “ I made you work up an appetite? Little ol’ me?”
“Little ol’ you got something that’s not so little between your thighs.”
“Ax!”
“It’s the truth. And you know what—we should probably stop talking about it before I throw it up on this plate. You need a break.”
“What makes you think I need a break?”
He frowns, and was that a growl I heard?
“Stop,” he says.
“What?” I ask, smiling, fully aware of what I’m doing.
“I’m giving you a rest. Trust me when I say you’ll need it.”
I eat a little more of my food and then say, “Tell me more about your real job.”
He clears his throat, takes a sip of coffee, and says, “I handle all matters concerning the operations of the company. I’m second in command behind my stepfather.”
“Peter Bayne is your stepfather?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” I drink coffee, and then say, “Here’s a thought. Why didn’t you two just come down here and be straight with me from the beginning?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“That’s not an answer,” I say, challenging him.
He downs another fork full of pancake and says, “When corporate comes around, people act differently. They do things they don’t normally do to impress the boss. I didn’t want that. I wanted to really know what you were doing to be successful.”
“Did you get what you were looking for?”
“I did.”
“And what do you think I was doing to be successful?”
He grins and wipes his mouth. “I don’t know if I want to go there right now. You always seem a bit agitated when this subject arises.”
“I am, but you can handle it, right Mr. Bigshot C.O.O.?”
“Oh, that’s what we’re doing?” he asks with a smirk.
“Mmm hmm. That’s what we’re doing.”
“Okay.” He lays his fork on his empty plate and says, “You are successful because you care about people. You acknowledge them. You learn their names. Their interests. Then you take care of their needs. When their maintenance requests come in, you stay on top of them until they’re done. You do things the company doesn’t pay for. You organize events. You give people a sense of community that, in turn, gives them a feeling of home. You provide coffee and snacks in the lobby. You are you , and what I learned by watching you, is you can’t be duplicated. You are the only one of you, and I knew from the moment we met that you would be mine.”
“You knew from the moment we met that I would be yours?”
“I did. I didn’t know when or how, but I knew. Any more questions?”
“No. Just a statement.”
“Which is?”
“You ruined my prom. We were supposed to spend the night dancing beneath the disco ball. It was the night we were going to tell everyone we were married. Instead, I was pretending to be having a good time while, on the inside, I was hurt.”
“I know. I’ll apologize for the rest of my life if I have to sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you.”
I nod because I know now that what he’s saying is true.
“My family knows,” I tell him.
“So does mine.”
I smile.
He says, “They want to meet you. I’m hoping we can fly up there this weekend.”
“Okay.”
“No objections?”
I shake my head from side to side. “No. I want to meet the people who raised the man I love.”
“Why are you talking like that? Haven’t you learned your lesson already?”
She giggles. “What lesson?”
“Your words and the way you say them have a direct impact on my craving for you.”
“Do they, now?”
“Yes, they do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”